Silhouettes, abstract and indistinct, linger beyond the periphery. In a maze of choice and consequence, a single truth remains: shadows cast not by the sun, but by a light invisible.
The footsteps of the past linger here. Their cadence a reminder of paths once taken, of whispers echoing through time, again and again.
"Turn left at the second intersection," it said, but who was 'it' exactly?
Silent conversations unfold in the corridors. A presence felt more than seen, breathing life into stone and moss, weaving stories untold.