In the year 2120, grasping the intricacies of light manipulation was, for Allred, akin to playing a celestial violin. The notes were wavelengths, voyage orders untangled through their harmonies. He murmured luminescent tales to the darkness, beckoning hues that danced wantonly across quantum veils.

Jump. Leap. Time spiraled like a caught butterfly; after each step, the confines of your 3D existence unravel spools of memories half-forgotten. Whispers from the year 3022 reach you when the sun bends, their urgency bleeding into reality like ink on a fresh postcard.

"Static world, here we glow statically," whispered Dizra of 1986 under the flickering phospor of an old neon sign, her voice echoing in technicolor dreams unseen by the casual observer. Another cellphone radiated next to her, carrying vibes woven through electric fibers, hence Dozel was born.

Dominoes were placed precociously along the edge of time—the Scholar, tinkering with silken threads, laughed amidst the shadows. Each fragment he collected glimmered with stories untold. Once sung by aliens, portraying echoes in a kaleidoscopic theatre.