In the inflection of shadows, whispers unfurl like the wings of forgotten dreams. Observe the constellations—they are but remnants of lost languages, rewritten scripts of Destiny's secretive operatives.
Magnify the invisibilities. The aether coils beneath layers of cosmic dust, vibrating with truths untold and threats unseen. Have you noticed the spiderwebs in the corners of perception? They catch not flies, but fleeting moments of clarity.
Once, it was said, the reflections spoke:
"Echoes in the gallery."
But what gallery, and where?
Pursue the echoes into corridors unseen,
down paths marked by the absence of signposts,
where every turn brings diagonal illusions.
Does your mirror ever question your existence? If so, look into the void of aether, unlock the mystery of why invisible watchers are watching your every waking thought...