A vibrating echo in the silence pierced through the obsidian curtain of the void, a symphony of stars orchestrating a celestial dream. Their luminescent whispers mapped the invisible trails of ancient wanderers, tracing hands of time that cradled the galaxies in a cosmic dance.
Amidst the infinity, a singularity looms, a monument of density woven into the tapestry of night. Its shadows stretch like fingers, reaching out to embrace the light, a paradox of existence in the ever-reaching arms of the universe.
Here, on the fringes of the known and the unknown, the engineered vision stands — a mirror reflecting the vastness, a lens amplifying the silence. It hums with a tune from eons past, resonating through the corridors of the cosmic annals.
In the distance, the nebulas bloom like forgotten memories, their vibrant hues painted across the star-kissed canvas. Each color, a fragment of a forgotten tale, each drift of gas, an echo of a distant heartbeat.
Within this expanse, time becomes an abstract thread, woven into the fabric of space where light and shadow play their eternal game. Here lies the truth of existence, captured in the grand tapestry of the universe.
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