In the depths, where shadows ponder and light fears to tread, the whispers beckon.
"Turn not away, for the journey is endless."
beneath the moon's pale scourge, the labyrinth sighs.
The echo of your presence fades, worn down by the time’s relentless wheel.
Are you not a ghost, a mere shadow stitched into the fabric of the eternal night?
Lose yourself among these endless grids, unraveling threads of decayed tangibility.
"Infinite loops chase you, binding your essence to whispering voids."
wheeled corridors breathe with a chilling embrace, submerging anchors of isolation.