Beneath the purple twilight sky, where old dreams merge with the nascent threads of an incoming dawn, there lies a plane that neither beckons nor shuns. It floats amidst the ethereal; a tapestry woven from gossamer whispers and fragments of incantations thought long forgotten.
An aurora of dualities, this world simultaneously adores and abhors its trespassers, offering solace wrapped in the sharp spice of unrecognizable constellations. Here, where shadows grow long but never fade, the lost whispers of creation reverberate softly, echoing within the web of stars suspended (not ‘above’, not ‘below’). Look now, as your heartbeat syncs to the rhythm of an ancient serendipity.