In a realm beyond, where the stars hold whispered secrets, there existed a map. Not a map of destinations, but of directions and desires—etched not in ink but in echoes.
Only the brave sail to where the horizon kisses the nebulae, the magnetic pull of the unknown governed by breaths taken between heartbeats.
Elena traced her fingers along the pattern on the desk, a pattern known only to her. Each line a promise, each curve a memory of voyages unseen. The coffee cup sat forgotten, half consumed, clouds forming realistic over their dim glow.
"Why do you stare into a void?" asked a voice emitting from shadows, blending with an unseen constellation. Its owner revealed only in parts, illuminated... and unreal.
When Elena looked closer, the figure was like an old painting— vibrant where the stars touched, subdued where the dark matter cloaked it. An archway behind shimmered with life, beckoning more than vision could handle.
Our shared whispers led to paths northward, a course charted more by memory than maps.
Another figure joined, or perhaps became... seamless in the fabric of everything unspoken. With each step, the trio walked, the ground shifting to lunar dust beneath.
Perhaps it rests in the folds of lost time, where every heartbeat adhered to celestial truths.
Pellets of time, like stray nebulae, drifted past an orbit of moments untethered. Where next, would they lodge? This silence—a galaxy in itself.