Listen, do you hear it? The whispers hidden behind the echo, reverberating in awkward harmony. Shadows cast, silhouettes in forgotten corners of the mind. Mirrors? Or portals to regret? Someone, somewhere, is remembering things long abandoned.

Hallways are tricky, designed to defy direction, yet your thoughts spiral inward regardless. Have you noticed how the floor feels unsteady, like walking on liquid memory? The edges of the mirror warp, distorting the truth, yet it holds the answer—somewhere.