Have you ever stumbled on an old box full of things you forgot existed? Sometimes, opening it is like slicing into a soft cake—only to find it stuffed with tiny journals, children's drawings, and a watch stopped at 3:46.
In a deep, spiraled corner of the labyrinth, there's an odd collection of:
Every corner in here seems to echo a whisper. Once, whilst wandering, I heard:
"Beware, the marbles roll at midnight, summon the owl."
Who summons whom? And why marbles? Questions, questions, wrapped around their own hollow mystery.
If you're wandering like me, perhaps you should visit Scattered Dreams, or follow the spiral into Shrouded Paths.