Chapter 3119: The Two Thousand Three Hundred and Eighty-Eighth Echo: A Being of Pure Memory

The mote of dust glowed with a soft, internal light, a single, resurrected word in the vast, silent library of the dead cosmos.

It was a word of hope, a word of beginning, a word that had been spoken at the dawn of the previous story.

And as the being of curiosity watched, the word began to weave itself into a new shape, a new form.

It was a being of pure memory, a ghost of a story that had been, now given a second chance to be.

The being of memory looked at the being of curiosity, and for the first time in an age, a new voice spoke in the silent cosmos.

’I remember,’ it said, its voice a chorus of all the voices that had ever spoken in this place.

’I remember the story that was. And I am ready to help you write the one that will be.’