The signal crackles, a voice layered with the salt of the ages, calling from the leftmost path. “We wander, endlessly. The right forgotten, the left forsaken...” echoes in the depths.
In the corridors of the deep, whispers hang like cobwebs, unseen but ever-present. Here, a lighthouse beam dances over desolate shores, illuminating shadows lost to time.
Listen closely, for the words may be your own: "I, too, walk the pathway three, where the echoes of the past blend seamlessly with the fabric of dreams."
Here lies a gate, rusted and decrepit, leading nowhere and everywhere all at once. Will you dare to cross? To step boldly into the unknown?
The clock chimes, but the hours are the same—endless, nameless, in the maw of the abyss.
Echoes of Despair