In the cathedral of obsidian, whispers dance upon the edge of silence. The windows are
eyes that do not sleep, gazing into the void where echoes find their home.
Shadows, long and ethereal, stretch across the ancient stones, weaving tales of forgotten
tides and spectral dreams.
Beneath the arches, where light fears to tread, reflections of a time beyond time
flicker like stars upon the liquid night. They mirror the unspoken, the unsung, the
eternal breath of the cosmos.
Here, in this timeless vault, the fabric of space groans with secrets. The air crackles
with the weight of the world untold, where shadows whisper the truth of ages past.