As you wander, time seems to lose its meaning. Step before step, inch by inch. Paths diverge and converge, but you find solace in the familiarity of their embrace. Echoes whisper of choices made and unmade, of paths not taken. Yet, the labyrinth speaks a language both foreign and familiar. You feel the pull of what was and what might be, an invisible thread weaving through each echo that fills the maze.

Here, in the echoes of the winding corridors, you meet a stranger. Their face is a blur, but their voice is clear. They speak of a door, a key, a truth hidden in the weaving of time. Will you follow their words, or will you let them slip into the never-ending echo?