"Please record your message after the tone..."
*Bzzt* From beyond, they call. The echoes swirl in the matrix murmur, drawing you left into the shadow's embrace:
"Where the frostbites bite sunlight into memories, their fragments glisten upon trembling screens."
Another whisper, closer this time, "Do you hear them, the woven tales of silicon souls?"
"Amidst the symbols of the night, a flicker remains..." It's a question, a murmur resounding like wind over graves of binary—etched in electric stone.
Enter less than words, haunt yourself:
Listen
Touch the Darkness