When the stars dim and the sky embraces twilight, the whispers grow louder. A melody from nowhere,
echoing through the corridors of forgotten thoughts—perhaps, a whispering wind carries it.
Once, there was a song heard only by those who dare listen to the silence.
Transmission 864: Solstice reflections manifest as gentle sighs. Do echoes dream,
or are they merely shadows of forgotten words, lost to time?
In the quietude of midnight, listen closely; you may hear a story untold.
Fragmented voice: "Here, within the foldings of light, truths untangle like threads of the cosmos."
Who speaks? Only the wind knows, weaving tales through the vastness of slumbering skies.