In the murky depths of a universe not unlike our own, lies a gemstone, pulsating with an unnatural hue. Here, told in whispers, the the void spins tales of shadow.
The gem does not grant wishes; it reveals reality as it gruesomely twists beyond comprehension. Within its fragmented gaze, echoes of what once was become despair's illusion.
Reflections splinter on the obsidian surface, showing not reflection but distortion, like a reflection in a funhouse mirror — where the wicked smile of destiny gently mocks. Reality fractures, and time barely holds the past and future as one.
Venture into the Labyrinth: Mentruth Calls Echoes of the Hidden: A Silent Requiem