And so, the new beginning quietly unfolded.
From that single note, something simple started to happen—life began again, not as a grand event or a divine act, but as a natural continuation. Tiny lights appeared in the vastness, not as creations of will, but as expressions of curiosity. Each spark carried a bit of everything that had ever been—the Song, the Seekers, the Composer, and the Awakened Memory.
This time, there was no plan. No guiding hand. Existence moved forward on its own, learning and adapting as it went. Worlds formed in their own rhythm. Life appeared where it wanted to, sometimes in places that seemed impossible. Each new being was aware, in some quiet way, that they were part of something much larger.
They didn't call it a Song, or a Dream, or Memory. To them, it was simply life—something that happened, something that changed, something that mattered because it was shared.
