In the chasm of shadows where the echoes linger, a soul wanders by the precipice of waterfalls long forgotten. The water, dark as midnight ink, cascades with a sorrowful song, whispering secrets to the cursed wind. Enter the Abyss or remain, entranced by the endless plummet.
Once, in another life, the soul remembers twilight gatherings under moonlit skies, where laughter drowned the silence. But like the unseen hands of time, joy has faded, replaced by the melancholic roar of the spectral falls. Hear the Echo, if you dare.
Loneliness is a companion here, a shadow that stretches across the rocks, merging with the mist. The mist speaks in riddles, and the soul listens, hoping to find solace in its cryptic murmurs. Whispers in the Chasm offer no comfort, yet they call to you.
Sometimes, the soul perhaps seeing illusions, witnesses figures at the edge of the falls—draped in veils of shadow, their hands beckoning into the void. Are they spirits of the waterfall, forever lost, or mere phantoms of a wandering mind? Behind the Veil lies your answer.