In the vast solitude, where silence reigns, there lingers an echo... a whisper of questions never posed, answers never found. Do these murmurs hold meaning? Or is meaning the silence itself, profound and complete?
Imagine the tapestry of existence woven with threads of riddles, each unraveling in a dance of stars and shadows. Consider: if the universe is a question, what are the boundaries of its inquiry?
Stand in this room, before the mirror of thought. Reflect upon the void, and see the reflections it refuses to hold. In this emptiness, find fullness; in the absence of sound, discover symphonies unheard.
Each wall bears witness to the echo's journey, tracing paths beyond sight. Here, mysteries linger, unbending, unbreakable. Find the boundary of enigma, or trace the silence to its source.