It started with static. A frequency I wasn’t even supposed to monitor. But when I decoded the signal… it was my voice. My voice—twenty years older. I sit here in the observatory, the humming of the servers a constant, lonely companion in the heart of the Atacama Desert. For years, my work has been to listen to the silent, sweeping orchestra of the cosmos, searching for patterns, for whispers of intelligence in the endless dark. The signal wasn't from the stars, though. It was terrestrial, tightly focused, and layered with an encryption so complex it felt organic.
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