[softly, reflective tone] We stand... in a crowd. Drowning... in the noise. And still — somehow — You might hear it. My trembling voice. [pause] I speak... in borrowed tongues. Where old meets new — a language we invent just... to reach you. [longer pause, fading background noise] Sounds arrive from somewhere unforgettable. They travel like ghosts... carrying the whispers of what’s about to disappear. [lower, resonant] Ancestors murmur on a global frequency. Our alien voice rises... quietly... secretly. [shift in tone — metallic echoes] Through echoes — transformed, through bones of the past — a signal survives. Buried... but built to last. [final section, spacious and questioning] One moment in time, still lost — still out of place. And maybe... our ears will tell us where we are... in space.
