Day 42 into the Nebula’s embrace, where the silence of the cosmos is louder than any earthly sound. The coordinates, Mira-3A, had promised a veil of dust—but cradled within the dust was a whisper. A signal, faint and flickering, like echoes in a cavern. We thought it depthless silence until we decoded the resonance within the frequency scatter.
Boxes unopened, their seals untouched for decades, cloistering our fragile human colors against the unseen tide. The whisper spoke of an artifact, ancient as the stars, resting at the heart of Mira-3A. We became the seekers, driven by the melody of a whisper the universe never meant to sing.
This is our message in a bottle, drifting through the vacuum. Perhaps it finds kindred souls wandering beneath other luminescent veils. Explore our path: