Infinite Echo

I first heard of the Echo Chamber at the end of a long, winding road, somewhere just past the 22nd century. It wasn't marked on any map, its existence known only by a whispered legend among time travelers. Upon entering, the air shimmered with a cascade of memories. Some were mine, some belonged to unnamed souls across time, weaving together a tapestry of stories. Every whisper told of a place, a dream, or a warning. I took a step forward, and suddenly I was in the middle of an endless corridor, lined with doors that had no handles. One door was slightly ajar, and I peered inside. An old man with a steel-grey beard was sitting with a quill, scribbling furiously on a scroll. "You won’t believe what happened yesterday," he said without looking up. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could utter a word, the room dissolved around me, like smoke swept away by an unseen current. "Tomorrow," a voice echoed, "is a reflection of what could have been." And with those words, I found myself back at the start of the road, the Echo Chamber fading into the mist behind me.