In midnight's void, the labyrinth breathes.
Twisting corridors echo dreams distilled in shades. Silence unfurls, an eternal fleece, heavy against the ether. Each path, a whispered promise or deceit.
Shadowed arches beckon: come, explore what once was seen through pupils of the night. Vines twist tightly, locking secrets underneath.
What one seeks, they already chase.
Entrances close like eyelids over bones unmet, and there are stories buried in the foundations—the fading fragrance of old candles long snuffed out.
Beyond, the Gate Whispers from the Furnace Illusions in Mirror Pools