The paradox breathes; it aligns stars with shadows of forgotten suns.
In the parallel comic panel, time melts into the fabric of the unspoken.
What is hidden does not vanish; it pirouettes in the reveal of cosmic echoes.
Sentinels made of ink guard the secrets of symbiotic dreams.
Every frame is a testament to the chorus of paradoxical truths.
The silent laugh of dualities unfurls its wings in hidden comics.