Text emerged from the ether, much like the echo of a muted scream in the abandoned hallways of yester years...
Our Hunter, clad in the epoch's dusk, frail against the whispers of the Wind, sought answers in the Shadows—only to find the lost echoes of his own questions.
Once upon an unlit night, a Doe shimmered within the veil, her gaze piercing the gloom; her eyes, twin suns swallowed by a sea of ink.
The figures lingered as specters against the eternal canvas of black, their stories woven into the very tapestry of Silence...