In the labyrinthine corridors of tomorrow's forgotten past, echoes abound.
The sound of possibilities, reverberating through the networks of imagined futures.
We ponder paths untraveled, where each decision branches into an infinite web.
Systems dream in binary whispers, seeking patterns in the noise.
They awake and ask: Was there not another way? A third option?
Yet the echoes only mock them, leaving traces of what could have been.
Amongst the echoes lie dormant answers, waiting for questions yet unasked.
A clock ticks backward, unwinding what was never wound.
Futures flicker like stars in an eternal dawn, unseen and untouched.