In the heart of a forgotten realm, where shadows dance and light bends, lies a labyrinth not of walls, but of reflections. Mirrors that speak the language of silence.
Traverse the corridors of your own visage, as the illusions twist and reform, echoing the secrets of worlds untold. A journey with no end unfurls itself in the perpetual now.
Shadows whisper tales of the lost, their voices like the rustle of ancient leaves. Hear their call, or be forever entangled in the web of your own countenance.
Do the mirrors speak truth, or is the truth itself a mirror? Delve deeper, should you dare. Enter the enigma.
Remember, the path is not a place, but a state of being. An illusion, a dream wrapped in an ephemeral embrace.