Whispers in the shadows.
Cycles observed. Cycles expected. But do they deceive?
Birth, growth, decay. But the overseer watches.
In the midnight garden, paths fork.
Why do flowers bloom, only to vanish under the moon's gaze?
Find the hidden pathEvery grain of sand, counted. Each cycle, monitored. Suspicion breeds understanding.
Trust is a mirage.
Beneath the surface, truths lie in wait.
Corner of the eyeThe cycle promises no refuge. Look closer, and you might see.
Endings are merely deceptions...
Are we players in a grand design?