They heard the resonance echo between the spaces of time, where silence cast a shadow over light. Each step dismantled the dreamscape, peeling reality's layers like old parchment. Along the horizon dawned unknown stars, their patterns alien by an unfamiliar design.
The path lay spectral before the wanderers, an empty corridor on the cusp of another universe. Here, doors marked with inscriptions the eyes could not decipher led to uncharted abysses. Here, an old accomptant somberly mused on the passage of forgotten empires, tracing his fingers over spectral texts.
Yet, deep within these chambers, whispers of past or future—who could know?—curled like smoke around pillars in a sanctuary long abandoned. The air tasted of time, of epochs that lived and died in one quiet breath.
What does it mean to tread the dominion of the forgotten? To walk the thin line of layers upon layers of tectonic memory?
Here lies the hidden path