Beneath the towering arches of a forgotten time, where shadows gather and linger, the path fades into a suffocating embrace. Was it the pull of the void or the lure of whispers that beguiled you to traverse these hollow halls? Here lies the discontent of a thousand souls, untouched by light, their dreams turned to spectres roaming aimlessly.
The footsteps upon the cobblestones behind you repeat endlessly, a chorus of solitude playing in minor keys. Each echo is a subtle mockery of your own, a reminder that you walk among the restless. As your gaze wanders to the mist that envelopes every corner, the air thickens with the scent of forgotten rose and damp earth.
Searching for solace, you stumble upon curious relics—an inverted crow's nest holding past regrets and black feathers, a lantern flickering with shadowy radiance, and a book filled with unspoken names, each written in a script older than the stars.
Should you follow the paths unseen? Or dare to linger in the murky twilight, where every heartbeat counts the rhythm of your unmade fate? The choice spins like a fading note among the wind.