Beneath a canopy of forgotten stars, Ryn stood at the brink, shadows embracing her like old friends. The void was a silent expanse, but within it thrummed an echo—an unvoiced scream ricocheting off the walls of reality.
With each breath, she felt the particles of perception fracturing around her,
invisible shards of understanding floating in the dark.
They whispered secrets too ancient to hold, too fragile to explore.
These particles, silent yet deafening, swirled in a cosmic dance,
begging to be grasped, but always slipping through her fingers like mist.
Ryn's fingertips brushed against the void, seeking the warmth of understanding. Instead, they felt the icy grip of knowledge, waiting to be unearthed like buried treasure. The particles shimmered, flickering like distant memories, and in their dance, she saw herself— a fragment, a whisper, a scream.
In the distance, a faint light pulsed, a heartbeat in the endless night. She followed it, drawn by its silent promise, through realms of shadow and forgotten dreams. With each step, the particles sang a tune only the soul could hear, a lullaby for the lost and the dreaming.