Welcome to the perpetual maze of hushed murmurs and half-asleep danishes. Every corner you turn leads only to another possibility of an equally sleepy decision, waiting for the bard of caffeine to make sense of it all.
Here, horizons yawning are just a metaphorical way of letting every sunrise sleep it out. Beware of sections rich in dreams unfulfilled—and do try to avoid the Hollandaise Sauce River!
The walls here often chuckle to themselves at your futile attempts to find a clear exit. After all, why would the dawn rise to empty places and hollow echoes?
Feel free to stay, adapt, and adopt several strange routines involving skipping randomly down corridors, only to confess later to chickens crossing their own roads in rhyme.