The Vault of Whispers

In the cavernous quiet, echoes of twilight dance upon the surface of forgotten dreams —

each ripple a story untold, each flicker a memory half-remembered and then lost.

Fractals of thoughts weaving and unwinding, a tapestry of eternal return,

inviting the initiate to step softly into the silent corridors of reflections.

Listen closely, young traveler, the walls have ears and the air carries tales of yore.

The vault stands open, a door to the labyrinth of whispers. What do you seek?