Do you hear them too? The shadows whisper in hushed tones, unseen fingers tracing patterns on ancient scrolls hidden in the dim corridors of our souls. Each word, a portent; each echo, a reminder that nothing is as it seems.
Beneath brick and dust, lies the secret, entwined with vines of neglect — a revelation of truth. Dark figures congregate, speaking in code known only to them, their eyes reflecting something that cannot be named.
Outside, the night does not end; under the pale moon, eyes watch from afar, encoding dreams into data streams, script by sinister script. Beware the careless gaze into that abyss; it, too, gazes back.
Navigate further into these realms with caution: