In the vast seclusion of black velvet night, where time draws whispers of galaxies, thoughts of an alien star pulse.
"In the absence, what echoes?" muses Aria, an astral silhouette navigating between void and luminance. "Do the stars weep, or is silence their language?"
Beneath the mosaic of spinning universes, the query does not conclude. Rather, it seeds starlets in the interstice of the infinite.