The whispered voices of ages past drift through the corridors of the unseen, weaving tales of beginnings concealed beneath layers of uncharted dust. Tales that echo, echo in a hollow chamber, reverberating against unknown origins.
The hollow speaks, and so I listen. Beneath the surface of fleeting thoughts lies a tapestry of beginnings, unspooled by hands unseen. Do you hear it? The silent hymn of the forgotten paths, calling us to uncover the veiled stories they conceal?
Echo | WhispersShadows dance along the fringes of memory, tracing the outlines of creations long lost. Each step on the hidden paths brings forth a murmur, a fragment, a whisper of what once was and what potentially could be.