In the cathedral fold of dusk, where the horizon bleeds into shadow, a whisper weaves through empty halls. The air thickens, a tapestry of twilight threads, blurring the line between the seen and the surreal. A solitary candle flickers, its flame a tiny sun trapped in the eternal night.

Across the eldritch corridors, past doors that creak with the stories of long-lost souls, lies the hidden path—a yarn spun of gossamer and forgotten dreams. Here, time itself refracts, bending and twisting under the weight of unspeakable thoughts. Angels and demons dance upon the brinks of sanity, their laughter a distant echo in the cathedral of the mind.

Embrace the night, let it consume you, for in its depth lies the truth of all hidden paths. A realm not meant for the light of day, where shadows live and breathe, and whisper secrets not of this world. Will you dare to follow the yarn?

Trace the Echoes | Enter the Tapestry