Whispers in the Echoing Corridor

Paths are whispers echoing in corridors of choice, each fork a voice, repeating, echoing, never letting go. The question of choice—do we choose, or does the choice choose us? A warden stands at each intersection, watching, waiting, their gaze a mirror to the choice we do not choose.

Silence is just a pause between whispers. In the silence, do we hear our own voice, or the voices of paths not taken? Whispers in the wind speak of choices made, choices unmade. They speak of paths that loop back, like a river bending, flowing, never linear, always cyclic.

Labyrinth Inheritance Obscura Reverie