In the silence of dawn, where thoughts whisper and shadows blend,
we wander through corridors woven by the unseen threads of dawn.
Beneath the weight of cosmic ink,
runes etched across an invisible landscape,
our footsteps summon echoes that unravel in silent incantations.
Do you hear them?
The phantom footsteps, tracing paths only dreamers can tread.
Each word a lantern, flickering, guiding through unseen fogs.
In twilight's breath, we find secrets unspoken,
woven like spider silk, delicate, yet unbreakable.
Follow the paths:
The Thresholds,
Whispered Echoes,
False Illumination
Here lies the map,
not of place, but of becoming,
where every step reshapes the future's phantom.