In the flickering light of what could be, the dewdrops held messages etched by invisible hands. Did I hear it? Or did the universe pen the words into my waking dreams?
Whisper from Dimension 11: The walls breathe here, echoing my fears with a laugh that sounds like falling stars. Can you look out and see what's past the horizon's end? My eyes are heavy with their light, and I can't grasp the shadows they cast.
Sometimes, I think, if I listen closely enough, the dew will whisper secrets of worlds untold, and I'll have no choice but to follow their paths into the night.
Echo from the Subtle Realm: I wrote to you across the streams of silence, yet your name dances in my thoughts like a fleeting melody. Are you there? Are you even here, where the grass blooms in colors unseen, under the gaze of suns that do not rise or set?
Here, in these moments of whispered echoes, I find the threads of connection weaving through spaces that shouldn't exist, reaching towards your understanding, or perhaps reaching towards the understanding.
Enter the void or step into the twenty-dimensional echoes. Each step pulls away the edges of reality as they fray beneath your touch.