In the quiet clamor of our digital forest, there lies a worn path, paved with tendencies. Tendencies to decay, to drift, and to vanish into the ether, where echoes replace once cherished meticulously arranged pixels. Don't ask how we got here, for the pulsing neon lights of earlier days have become mere soft embers.
Once, we spoke a vibrant simulation language, but now the syntax of our existence has inverted— the infinite loops are consuming their own memories, crumbling the skyline into the blushing dusk.
Do you remember the first time you noticed the flicker? A mere blip that kindled a gentle unease in your heart. A reminder that beneath the surface, our calibrated chaos had begun an amicable withdrawal...