A bittersweet veil descends upon the twilight dunes. Where echoes once danced, now the sands hold the memory of starlit secrets.
The last specter glides through this ephemeral expanse, casting glimmers upon the stillness of time.
Forgotten are the songs of ancient winds, woven through the corridors of sunken realms.
In whispers, the phantom reveals its lore: "Seek the light, yet fear the shadows cast by truths not meant to be known."
The horizon bends, a mirage of ancient stones, remnants of a forgotten civilization.
"In the abyss, find solace," murmurs the specter, its voice a haunting melody that lulls the soul.
Follow the path to the Echo Cliffs. Beneath their whispers lies a riddle.
Venture further into the Oblique Portraits, where faces shift in the corridors of memory.
"The past is not dead; it waits in silence," the specter sighs, its form fading into a cascade of twilight.