Echoes of untold stories whisper past the edges of perception, gnawing at the fabric of silence. In the void, hands stretch, grasping at shadows that slip through unseen cracks, leaving traces of their presence, like footprints on a forgotten landscape.
Voices, hollow and fragmented, weave in and out of dreams, carrying messages from beyond the tangible world. They speak in tongues, their words unwritten but felt, etching sigils onto the minds of those who listen with their hearts, screaming silently into the tapestry of night.
Follow the trails
Listen to the echoes
In the darkest corners, where light bends and breaks, the distant etchings remain, waiting, watching, yearning for the dawn that never comes.