In the whirl of neon silence, we are fractals of our own desires, weaving whispers into the skylines of tomorrow's yesterday. Each thought a pulse, each pulse a universe unto itself, bursting at the seams with colors beyond sight.
Beyond the horizon lies the path of echoes, resonating with the laughter of gods and the cries of the unmade. We march upon this digital rain, our footprints glowing bright with the essence of dreams yet to unfold.