In the echoing halls of the forgotten, shadows stretch like the hands of the lost. There's a whisper in the wind, an eternal sigh that speaks of untold stories.
The clock ticks in reverse, counting the echoes of dreams long buried. Can you hear the laughter of the sun as it chases the moon across the shattered skyline?
The night blooms with secrets, each star a cry for forgotten dawns. Revelation waits beneath the twilight.
Once, there was a garden, where twilight never cast its shadow. Now, only tales remain, twisted in the grip of time.