Once upon a time, in a place where the past and future loiter around the corner of the present, memories found themselves trapped within a maze of intricate leading and misleading pathways. The structure was built not of stone or steel, but of ephemeral recollections, shared whispers, and the shadows of moments that could have been.
Inhabitants of the labyrinth — primarily ethereal figures known only as the Recollectors — catalog these memories. Some memories are robust and straightforward: the simple, yet profound, memory of morning coffee. Others are convoluted, dizzying in their recursive loops, like the tale of an endless staircase of socks that never finish pairing.
The labyrinth operates under certain logic, although that logic slips away like sand through fingers upon closer inspection. Consider the memory archival system: categorically arranged by emotions instead of events. A folder marked "Elation" houses a birthday party invite next to a tax receipt, both equally potent in the joy they evoke.
Yet, the most mind-boggling aspect is the Everchanging Node, where time seems to pause momentarily to observe its own reflection. Rumor has it that those who navigate this section become ageless, their memories floating through the web of time like leaves on a autumn breeze.