In the stillness of the obsidian caverns, where echoes dare not dwell, a whisper of light dances upon the walls. It is pale, ghostly, a fleeting shadow in the wake of forgotten time.
Here, in this realm of muted breath, the echoes of spectral cries linger, caught in the web of twilight. The light, a sentinel of the abyss, weaves stories of what was and what shall never be again.
Follow the whispers that guide you through the obsidian veins of this nocturnal world. Each step, a memory etched in luminescent embrace, flickers like a dying star.
And when you dare to listen, truly listen, the shadows reveal secrets of the void, secrets wrapped in the cold velvet of long-lost dreams.