In a world where the sun whispered secrets to the moon, a gentle thrum filled the night's calm air...
She asked, "But can you really hear them?" His voice a low murmur, wrapped like mist around her thoughts.
The wind replied, clock-tick-tock tick-tock-clock, in a language only understood by dreams.
Footsteps echoed in the hall of forgotten echoes, where memories were but whispers, faded and broken.
Dream Fragment: "No, not the red door," she said, "the green one is where all stories end and begin."
And there, amidst the shadows, stood a keeper of clocks... but which way did the hand turn?
Continue the journey: Labyrinth of Silence
Find the answers: Secrets of Starlight
Return home: Whispering Doorways