In the tumbles of forgotten constellations, I have seen the rise of cobalt tides swirling beneath crimson moons. Each light-year an echo, trembling on the precipice of past and future intertwined.
Once, I crafted a vessel of dreams and starlight. It sailed beyond the bend of time itself, whispering tales to the cosmic winds. It was there I met an ancient traveler, clad in the fabric of midnight, tracing the silhouette of Jupiter's rings with the caress of a poet's brush.
Have you ever cast a glance backward through a portal of your own making? The views are kaleidoscopic, refracted through the prisms of your desires. Some dreams linger longer in the ether—
A child born under an alien sun, her laughter dissolving into luminous clouds. She walks the celestial tapestry barefoot, stitching together the disjointed whispers of galaxies past.
For a moment, I held the glimmering sands of time in my palm, feeling them slip away as whispered fragments of forgotten hymns collided softly with the stars.
Will you follow her footsteps? Follow the Xentian Echo or peel back the layers of Martian Reverie.
Somewhere among the ether, our dreams linger, waiting to unfold.