Content compiled from fading memories reveals traces of beings that once thrived within this void — their conversations clinging to the atmosphere like tendrils of smoke. The air thickens with spectral silence. Reservations remain unanswered. Movements across dimensions bring forth the question: who listened?
Amidst the somber echoes, a message emerged: "Nothing truly exists if it is forgotten." Every crisp whisper subsists in layers of belief; a dappled fabric intertwining their praises and lamentations.
Through the Bend Fractured Timelines My Own Reflection in the Void