In the deep velvet night, where whispers of galaxies intertwine, there lie footsteps on an alien shore. An orchestra of possibilities, conducted by unseen hands, creating a symphony of the cosmos.
Each grain of sand a theory; each wave a question that washes anew, erasing the footprints only to leave echoes of a past yet to be understood.
Consider the pattern of stars, twinkling like eyes through the veil, casting their gaze upon the orchestrated chaos of existence. Do they wonder? Or do they know?
One grain whispers, while another remains silent, forging the melody of time, shaping destinies in the rhythm of its silence.
Theories rewritten, theories forgotten—footsteps across cosmic sands trace paths unseen, journeys unfathomed.
Guide your gaze to the center, where lines converge—a point of singularity. There rests the truth, perhaps.