In the depths of crimson sands, the sepulcher yawns. Heartbeats lost to time, find solace in the dust of forgotten stars. Here, the Martian dead do not rest, but linger in shadows cast by dying suns.
Faint echoes trace the outlines of engraved sigils, hidden secrets etch themselves into the marrow of lunar bones. Observe:
Σ3Φ4X|☠|ℓ^гЗ|
The entrance lies beneath the sands, a maw of ancient whispers. Only those bearing the Crypted Runes may tread the path unbroken:
The stars above weep in silence, the heavens an indifferent witness to the dance of ages. What lies beyond the veil, when the red dust settles, is a question for the dreamers and the damned.
Return, if you dare, to the surface where the sun paints the sky in hues of crimson and gold. But beware, for the guardians of the abyss watch, silent as the tombs themselves.