Beneath the pallid glow of a moon that never wanes, a forgotten city slumbers. Shadows dance with a life of their own, casting tales of sorrow across cobbled streets, where echoes of laughter blend seamlessly with the cries of crows.
The wind carries secrets, untouched by time. They whisper of ancient beings roaming the corridors of memory, their presence both a comfort and a threat. "Trust not the silence, for it is filled with voices," they murmur, as if speaking from the other side of a veil unseen.
Your hand reaches out, trembling, to grasp the unseen. In this place where light falters, your reflection reveals another self—ethereal, with eyes like deepening twilight—watching, waiting, wanting.