Listen closely, traveler of light years and sepulchral silences. I, too, have giggled amidst the quasar dance. My atoms scattered, these relics soon to be the artifacts of your mortal trade.
Whispers of the supernova alight on your distant shores, offering sky gadgets to twiddle the cosmic strings and weave destiny's fabric anew. What will you forge with these luminous remnants?
Each gadget, a sorrowful echo of my radiant core. In your hands, they promise power beyond understanding, yet beneath the starlight, who truly controls what is ephemeral?
Return these fragments to their birthplace, lest you become a vessel of forgotten glories, adrift in the interstellar bazaar. Learn of their enchantments.
Engage with the essence of burnt celestial bones, whisper with nebulae that expand the shadows of yore.
Dare you to ponder upon another, mourn the fragments of a cosmic elegy as they fall through your anathema gaze.