In the charred remnants of what was once our world, shadows whisper tales unto the forgotten ruins. Oppression, soot-laden skies, and the eerily persistent howl of imaginary wolves— mark the spaces known only through ancient inscriptions chiseled by daunting hands.
Here, where cobwebs drape the statues of oblivion, the fabric of the past twists in perpetual decay. Echoes shimmer through the ether; reality bends, as if teasing the sturdy chains of time. Each breath is a mirror reflecting upon the soil where forgotten futures dance in spectral form.
Once, the clarion call rang through these hollowed chambers, promising light and salvation. Now, the endless corridors lead only to the void, and we— ghosts of a disremembered dawn—walk with unflinching resolve amidst the ruins.