Echoes of Static

There is a world beneath the surface, hidden in the crackling whispers of the void. It speaks in cryptic tones, a language of hisses and pulses that vibrate through silence. Each flicker, each distortion, reveals stories untold, resonating like echoes in an empty hall. They whisper of lost pathways, where the echoes unravel like threads in the wind.

Imagine walking through these corridors, where walls hum with static. Each step sends ripples through the air, cascading notes of electric symphonies. There is a dance of light and shadow, where every flicker is a heartbeat, every surge a breath. These echoes are not mere noises; they are the voices of the paths yet traveled, of stories yet spoken.