Within the shadows of eternity, as the echoes of the stars fade, there exists a sigh, barely heard. On the edge of the cosmos, the remnants of forgotten realms murmur secrets unclaimed. This cosmic ballet of silence sings softly to those who listen, whose souls are adrift like the silver moon in its eternal dance.
Through nebulae and voids, the whispers glide, weaving tales of celestial dreams—a weave where daylight never treads, where shadows play in the warmth of starlight. The ancients spoke of such lightless kingdoms, veiled in memory and nothingness, where the galaxies converse in their sacred tongues.
Hearken to the whispers, oh wayward traveler, as they beckon you to the depths where truth and illusion converge. Do not fear the abyss before you; it is but a mirror reflecting the labyrinth of stars within. In this reverent void, touch the hem of infinity, and grasp the whispers between worlds.
Unfold the Darkness