Upon the unlit corridors of existence, there lies a threshold where light falters and shadows consume the final flickers of breath. The air is thick with ancient incantations, a symphony of whispered secrets entwined in the gossamer threads of time itself.
Here lies the whispering void, an abyss unyielding and eternally silent. A tide of forgotten dreams surges, cascading over the precipice of knowledge, leaving naught but echoes in their wake. The air hums softly, caressed by spectral hands as it gathers the tears of a thousand ages, woven together in the delicate lattice of oblivion.
The path stretches forth, a ribbon of shadow woven with the lightest touch of starlit illusions, inviting the traveler into its expansive embrace—a dance of eternity awaits within the cosmic cradle, where every heartbeat reverberates in the hollow chambers of yearning.