In the corridors of the cosmic unknown, lost whispers of ancient philosophers echo against nebulae spun from shadow and dust. They ponder: Is the labyrinth a mirror of the mind or the soul's unending journey?
As you drift through the maze, time sings an anachronistic lullaby — the past speaking in tomes not written yet, the future’s ghost stretching fingers into worlds unseen. Here, the present becomes a fleeting shadow, a thought lost in empty spaces.
Among celestial arches and star-etched walls, the maze reveals itself: not a physical space, but an experience of existence — every twist a decision, every turn a possibility held in starlight until it fades.