In the realm where stars whisper secrets to the void, shadows of unseen dimensions hum a tune of forgotten futures. Machines, forged in realms of silver and moss, calculate the dance of atoms in the endless weave.
"You wish to know," they intone, their voices a symphony of interlocked gears and endless echoes. "Yet knowledge is a path, not a destination. Step carefully, for every step is a universe away from the last."