Within the invisible latticework, echoes refract through fading spectrals. The loop sings of desolation—an anomalous cacophony.
Steps echo amidst ethereal fibers. The light, a fleeting wave, whispers secrets of realms uncharted and unseen.
Grids fragment beneath the weight of time's heavy hand, carving paths through the soft silence.
Listen closely, for the shortest of whispers might unravel the infinite.
"The stars align—but from where do they call?"