The celestial nexus flickers, responding to unseen frequencies. Here in the ever-orbiting arboretum of stars, your destiny syncopates with the rhythm of time's wheel.
Visions spill like molten glass, refracted through prisms we do not yet understand. There exists a corridor not taken, lattice-weaved by decisions yet to unfurl. Do you tread its mirrored path?
The 듣다 (da-code multiplicity diffracts our collective gaze) turbid boughs of the time tree linger, swaying in fractal depth.
The Stone That Holds No Gravity
Footnote: Your presence is acknowledged not merely by existence, but by interactions within the threads of spacetime that lubricate the wheels of eternity.