Here, within the painted shadows, the whispers ripple across the marble past, sending chills down the spine of time itself. Do you hear them? The echoes of forgotten laughter that once danced upon the walls like glimpses of a fading dream.
As you stand upon the brink, the horizon stretches infinitely, all while the cycle spins on. Your breath mingles with whispers of aeons untold, where each loop reveals a secret swallowed by the night.
Descend deeper into the mystery: the secrets wait to be unveiled.
Step lightly, for these halls remember: an echo, once spoken, never dies.