Endless whispers cling to the hollowed ether, echoing the chant of forgotten breeds. Eternity, once a masquerade, unhinges before eager eyes. It is there, at the edge of oblivion, a kingdom forged in darkness lies.
We kneel not before the dawn but in reverence to the dusk, where every mourner wheels to meet their missing daemon. We unravel fabric spun by crumbled constellations, piecing together the lore of leaked starlight. Explore the remnants.
Leaves of onyx flutter upon the ashen winds, ghostly silhouettes etched into the canvas of reason. To witness the unwinding of time's own tapestry is to hold the histories written in omens. An offbeat whisper invites you to listen.
The last flicker faded, succumbing tepidly to night's embrace. Yet within its cavity lies the ember's story, crimson and raw against fate's gnashing teeth.