As stardust remembers its past, every whisper between light-years draws you closer to the horizon of relinquished time.
You stand at the precipice of the farthest stretch, where the silence fields a tapestry of undying essence and endless whispers. Accept this - the signature of the galaxy is yours for the plucking.
Embrace the allure of the galaxies, fallen in line like soldiers lost in their constant duty, serving the impending revelation. Within their twinkles lies a blind luxury, unseen by eyes left to succumb on Earth. Do you hear the choir of completion?