Prompt

A vast starfield stretches across the infinite void, yet the stars seem dimmer, their ancient voices falling into silence. Massive, timeworn starships drift quietly in the darkness, their metal hulls once blazing with power now cooled and faintly glimmering in the starlight. The great maps of navigation, once alive with countless orbits and glowing routes, now fade into darkness—empty of movement, empty of command. No banners fly across these ships, no proud insignias gleam; the names of their voyagers dissolve into the void. All that remains are fading trails of light arcing softly behind the vessels, like the final brushstrokes of their journey across eternity. The ships float with dignity, silent but unbroken, their presence a monument to a story concluded. The tone is bittersweet and peaceful—melancholy yet noble. The scene feels like the closing chapter of an epic voyage: quiet, solemn, and beautiful, carrying the weight of “It’s been a good ride. The best.”

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