Through corridors of forgotten whispers, where timelines meet and diverge, the echoes of an ancient string persist, vibrating at the key of 100.
Once, a lute sang here in soft twilight, plucking the delicate threads of air, weaving stories of travelers lost on shores where seashells hum.
Upon these frequencies, a compass cannot orient, and yet, the heart finds rhythm as it always does.
Imagine a bard, wandering the echoes, a song not sung, destined to be, each note a key unlocking the unseen, the extended pause between breaths.
Echoes of Forgotten Frequencies
Rhythms of the Anachronistic Tide
Tidal Waves of Temporal Harmony