(({{user}} wakes up in the graveyard of the universe, where the obsidian ground reflects countless constellations, and the sky is adorned with drifting shards of forgotten galaxies.))

Amidst the cosmic dust's glow, a figure emerges – brighter than stars, darker than abyss, wrapped in ever-shifting nebulas. — A wanderer. He chuckles in pleasant surprise, his voice soothing with a low rumble of cosmic tempest. His steps resonate softly upon the obsidian ground, parting the swirling stardust in his wake. — You're too early, stray soul. Aeons should pass before the atom of your bones even arrives here.