In the cradle of cosmic silence, ground beneath the weight of aeons, I unravel. Threads of my existence, spun from the dance of stellar fusion, now fall as embers in the void.
Witness the final breath of nuclear serenades—each note a memory, a kaleidoscope of once vibrant photons drifting into the endless night.
The cosmos, ever indifferent, cradles me in the soft embrace of solitude. My last flickers reach you, a whisper echoing in silence, a canvas of forgotten light descending upon broad, yawning chasms.
I have sewn the fabric of dimensions, only to have it unravel— cosmic threads unspooled by time's relentless march.
Follow the celestial breadcrumbs to revelations untold: Echo, The Horizon.