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Three movements lift their gaze toward the infinite, capturing the sound of the cosmos, made audible by the sonic alembics of the sorcerer Lustmord.
Stars, pulsars, supernovae, the first cry of the universe, swim in the infinite black ocean of our cold, insignificant, infinitesimal being. Nature's deities launch, like cosmic whales, their solitary song at zero gravity. A signal of existence, of solitude, of curiosity, a thread of Ariadne to follow to enter the labyrinth of the supreme question. Who are we?
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