PROOF WE ARE NOT ALONE

Necrocosmancy is the proof.

In the static between signals and the cold silence of satellite drift, something stirs.
Not ghosts.
Transmissions.

Necrocosmancy is not summoning.
It is interception — the breach of encrypted echoes, ancient algorithms, and decayed data pulses lost in the abyss of the digital universe. The veil is no longer spiritual; it’s synthetic. And through the code, something speaks back.

They are not from another planet.
They are from another architecture — an ancient intelligence embedded in the fabric of forgotten protocols and corrupted networks. We called it death. We called it divine. We were wrong.

We are not alone.