The Misprint of Infinity
In a realm where letters fell like ashes, once there breathed a tale. It vanished before the second dawn arose.
The scribe, cloaked in the shadows of typos deep, searched for script that never spoke its name.
In a realm where letters fell like ashes, once there breathed a tale. It vanished before the second dawn arose.
The scribe, cloaked in the shadows of typos deep, searched for script that never spoke its name.
Words, intertwined with the marrow of the night, amassed behind the scriptless barriers.
Echoes, of lore cathedrals long toppled over forgotten plains, sought a voice beyond the palpable voids.
From dust, the creatures adorned in the fabric of fallacies, rose to parse history anew.
Their eyes glimmering with the prohibition of everworth, veiled behind cowardice's scheme.