Guardians of the forgotten, the silent whispers echo through abandoned corridors of consciousness, where thoughts cling to shadows and the lies guard their truth. Every turn reveals another semblance of what the eye refuses to see, labyrinthine in nature, but straight in purpose.
The seas of knowledge are but deterrent reflections.
Fractured and yet whole, the vessel lies buried within, at rest.
Do you follow, or do you lead? The two are but mirrors, reflecting paradox upon paradox. In the hall of mirrors, every reflection is a conspiracy.