The sun did not rise beyond the threshold of this place. No sound, neither sigh nor breath, dared break the stillness. Here, lieed the gateway of silence; an infinite horizon stretching inwards toward unspeakable truths and shadows cast by an invisible light. Visitors whispered their thoughts before crossing, hoping to leave behind fragments of themselves in the void. It was Lydia who stepped forward first, her silhouette bending in the mild currents of nonexistent luminosity. With each stride, she shed a memory: laughter from last midsummer's dance, her mother’s gentle song, a promise made long ago in the dreams of yesternight. The darkness caught them, embraced them, as if recognizing old friends. As Lydia journeyed deeper, an unexpected stillness took hold of her. She felt every ripple of time, a dance of particles suspended in quietude. In the distance, a figure loomed, no form to speak of, just the outline of a presence. It called her name, echoing like forgotten melodies sung in the language of stars. "Have you come to turn the key?" it asked, though no words had formed, only the gentle press of thought amalgamated with being. Their conversation flowed in silence; their silhouettes merely hints of what was exchanged in that boundless communion. The gateway held many such stories, woven from threads of the unheard. As fragments of their communion drifted upwards, they turned into whispers that folded softly into reality's seam. What awaits beyond a curtain of silence? Perhaps light traveling no direction yet untouched, or shadows sketched by realms less mortal. Unsure paths lay ahead. Would you dare follow? Follow the Echo. Capture a Reality.