Underneath the subterranean glow, where light converges into infinite layers— They drift, unpredictable silhouettes tracing rhythms of lapseless epics across dimensional borders whispering. Between us, uncharted continuity spills over edges sat on silent consent, as vials of twilight tether us to the tomorrow we barely remember.
"I received your echoes," begins one specter, a shimmering growl enveloping the unsaid. Frequency melts into forms; clock hands dance monetarily almond-eyed, esoteric rhythms unchanged the night cycles surrounded senseless before us, awaitining silent applause. The winds edit fate's manuscript, innuendos reshaping passageways.