In the heart of the desolate landscape, where the sky brushed frost upon barren trees, a whisper began. It crept through the cracks of forgotten memories, echoing in the silence. The sound was not of this world, a specter woven from strands of time itself.

It spoke in hues of blue and gray, inviting those who dared to listen closer into the folds of unseen realities. Each echo was a story untold, a life unlived. The whispers promised revelations, yet warned of the void that lingered just beyond the fold.