Pulse

I could hear it again… a pulse. Every night, it returned quietly, somewhere between memory and dream. Others called it imagination. I called it home. Nobody noticed the silence changing. The air carried a rhythm no one else could hear. Slow. Distant. Alive. I stopped trying to explain it. Some places are not meant to be found, only felt.

Chain

TEZOS

Network

Tezos

Contract

KT1RAzTg4GesDz9UYRJ4V1kiP5eo6TcLAnLu

Token ID

101