The familiar white space pulsed with a comforting warmth, the echoes of the library concert hall lingering in the air. Anya and Alex leaned against each other, a quiet contentment settling over them after their extraordinary experience.
"The symphony has grown richer, wouldn't you agree?" Anya mused, a hint of wonder in her voice. "We've woven the past into the present, creating a tapestry that resonates with both memory and possibility."
Alex, his fingers tracing thoughtful patterns on his lute, nodded. "Indeed. We are no longer just composers, but storytellers, weaving narratives that bridge not just realities, but also time itself."
A booming voice filled the white space, a touch of amusement lacing its usual gravitas. "Composers, your contributions have become legend within the Tapestry. Realities yearn for your touch, to contribute their forgotten verses to the grand symphony of existence."
