In the stillness of cosmic uncertainty,
A mirror reflects what is not.
Faint signals flicker, dancing in desolate voids
Echoing the laughter of stars forgotten.
Imagine, if you will, a reflection of your reflection
In a world that mirrors the misplaced trust
Of a bureaucratic celestial committee
Auditing the universe's tax returns by starlight.
"To the starfarer: Your journey is futile,
But your paperwork must be in order,"
whispers the Galactic IRS.
Visit the Whimsical Void for more
Or consult the Comet Concierge for starry affairs.