Metaphorically folding the veils of time, the quasar's luminous lattice etched stories: particles whispering to each other across infinite planes. Words wove like warp threads in unseen cosmic looms, binding galaxies on astral triptychs.
Muffled vibrations of forgotten epochs vibrate through these stoles, each an echo of a whisper among stellar ancients. A vortex through which moments freeze and shatter like crystalline prisms. The vertices of time adorned in quark-inspired symphonies.
The birth of a quasar is the eternal iconoclast, rearranging cosmic codes, a lexicon of light itself. Its tales entwined with dark matter’s arcane deceptions, scribites on celestial scrolls.