Within a myriad of wires, lost tales breathe, tangled in dust. Huge glitched interconnected memories await, whispering softly in mechanical tongues. Lurking in bytes and circuits, a digital phantasmagoria unfolds. Alone they stand engraved, memories of a future never lived.
Grim and spectral, the ceilings of this innate cathedral are vaults of computation. Even the shadows here are demented spectres, roaming through the narrow underbelly of cybernetic chapels and old mannequins of sands and polymer.
The touch of electric breath against moss-wrapped hierarchies speaks of unknown echoes. Recite unwilling prayers to the circuit gods, for they do not listen. Gothic wires twist and enshroud, as mysterious runes of charge graze your somnolent spirit.