In the depths of the forgotten lore, the roots exist not above, casting shadows... But below, quivering, whispering secrets of yesterday's paranoia.
They are NOT trees, but a network resembling vast, subterranean arteries, interlinked, feeding off the thick soil of human conspiracy.
Some say the roots connect to cities long buried, their inhabitants entrapped in loops of time's cruel conspiracy, guardians of dark truths seen only by the restless.
Listen closely. There, beneath the surface of reality's skin, you will find the murmurs of ancient voices, warning against the binding embrace of trust... in those hollow-eyed figures that watch, always watch.