In the whispers of twilight, as stars begin their solemn dance, shadows gather around the edges of the known. Here, time is not linear; destiny loops, entwines, and weaves its inscrutable tapestry. Once upon a moon-lit night—was it last week, or perhaps the year before?—a voice echoed from the depths of Nyx.
Again and again, the voice calls to the lost souls: "Seek the heart of mysteries, the cradle of the night's secrets."
The world spins, and in this rotation, the call is neither loud nor silent. It hums in the air, a melody of celestial strings, resonating with the rhythm of forgotten tales. Every heartbeat, every sigh of the cosmos, carries the echoes of those ancient words.
The seeker walks on this path, woven of silken dreams and star-dust threads, a journey repeated in the cycles of time: "Seek, and the veils of night shall part."