In the realm where the flickering neon whispers die, beneath the synthetic symphony's lullaby, the shadows cast their own twilight glow.
Listen closely, and hear the echoes of a world not seen — a harmony of electric hues, a dance across the spectrum's edge.
The luminous phantoms glide, tethered to rhythms of forgotten stars. Each step born from silent reverberations, each gesture lighting the astral tide.
The stars are silent witnesses, mesmerizing grains in the cosmic sand. Witness, O stars, this spectral ballet.
Beyond the edges of the dreamscape, a new dawn awakens — painted in hues only the night has known.