In the shadow of silken veils, beneath whispers of the night's embrace, there lies the treasury of slumber.
Mournful echoes of forgotten reveries twirl amidst the cobwebbed vaults, where hopes are minted into shadows.
As you approach, a spectral teller questions with a voice like moonlight on dark waters:
"Will you deposit your dreams or, perhaps, withdraw a whisper of eternity?"
Deposit WhisperGlistening in the void, spectral currencies flicker. Dreams exchange hands under a bank of haunted stars.
Your gaze catches a ghastly phosphorescence, flickering across the ledgers of perished wishes.
Echo of the Night