In realms untouched by the brush of time, where the infinity breathes in whispers, there lies a lexicon. Its words are not spoken but are lent meaning by the voids that cradle them, a silence that echoes the symphonies of stars unseen.
This lexicon, obscure and enigmatic, tells tales woven into the fabric of cosmic tranquility. Each letter formed by the quiet of a thousand light-years, every word a constellation’s sigh. It is a narration not in syllables, but in the presence of absence, a cadence absent of form yet full of substance.
Dreams, they say, thread through these silent spaces like gossamer threads, binding together the momentary whispers of celestial inertia. Here, in the cradle of the cosmos, the lexicon weaves stories of lost comets and ancient supernovae, romanticized by the stillness of the spheres.
Navigate through the realms of this lexicon, uncover its secrets. Listen, for the silence speaks more eloquently than the thunder of a billion stars.