In the emptiness where galaxies whisper echoes of beginnings, a solitary voice recounts its passage. Observers report a confession embedded within the cosmic fabric, a narrative transcending time and matter.
"I am but a mote traversing the void," admitted the voice, "unable to recall the warmth of stars nor the embrace of celestial kin."
Concealed in the shadow of a forgotten moon, an entity reflects on its creation and dissolution. Its story, dictated through silences louder than supernovae, carries weight beyond realms known to light.
Journal entries, captured by unseen quills on pages made of darkness, detail the existential ruminations of astral beings. These ciphers, though faded with the passage of eons, remain legible to those who read the silence.
"Our solitude is shared," writes another, "an embedded truth amongst the stellar expanse."