As the ancient clock tolls, a sound devoid of resonance, the city begins to dissolve. Streets once bustling, now echo ominous silence, shrouded in the veil of cosmic dust settling gently upon every forgotten artifact—the lampposts, the cobblestones, even the carved wooden doors sigh into oblivion.
Inhabitants wander, or perhaps they wade through the haze of this unsettling disappearance. An old woman's face, a canvas of time and stories, reflects not panic, but serenity, for she now understands the cyclical fate of these urban souls.
Above, a distant horizon stretches into infinity—but it is no ordinary curve of land. Instead, it cradles fleeting constellations brighter than the sun, their cosmic symphony heralding the arrival of as yet unformed cities. These structures whisper promises of dreams, encapsulated in stardust and destined to vanish once more.
Conversations linger like echoes from a forgotten radio station. "Behold the phoenix," says a child, "it dances among the stars." The adults smile, accustomed to prophecies etched in their peripheral vision.