The air crackles, a soft symphony of static whispers.
"The shadows speak in hues of electric mist," she murmured, her voice a thread woven through time's tapestry.
The ground beneath ripples, an ocean of silence that ebbs and flows under foot, betraying secrets of the past in its subtle motions.
Beyond the horizon, waves of analog distortion shimmer, reflecting a forgotten dance of echoes lost in the ether.
"Listen," he commanded, "to the song of fractured memories that haunt this place." His words etched themselves into the fabric of reality.
The sky, a vault of secrets, holds fragments of noise like stars—each a story waiting to be told, each an echo of what once was.