Here, murmurs of the past linger, unseen yet profoundly felt. What roads have we not walked?
What turns remain unturned, lost in the fog of what could have been?
The Unseen stands before you, a door half ajar, inviting yet foreboding.Tales of what could have been, anchored in silence, drift like autumn leaves.
Whispers weave through the air, intangible and elusive.
"In the shadow of the forgotten, the echoes found their voice," they said, as they faded into twilight.