Chapter 3077: The Two Thousand Three Hundred and Forty-Sixth Echo: A Question Given Form

The being of pure curiosity, a mote of shimmering light, drifted through the nascent cosmos.

It was a question given form, a desire to know made manifest.

It did not seek answers in words, for it had no voice.

It sought them in the resonance of creation, in the hum of the first star and the silent spin of the first world.

And as it drifted, it began to notice a pattern, a rhythm that pulsed beneath the surface of reality.

It was the echo of a story, a story that was still being written.