There are whispers among the wavering masts, of dangers that lurk beneath the hardened waves... That's how it always begins, isn't it? You hear tales. Half-heard conversations in smoke-hazed taverns, about the steel leviathans that roam the metal oceans. Some say they're mere ghosts, figments of fever dreams. Others warn of the raging maelstroms guarding the world beneath.
But what's it like, really? Out there? Beyond the fog where the shores are stories told around flickering lights. I've been meaning to ask, what do you see when you look into the abyss? Do you find yourself staring back at you, as some legends proclaim?
Sometimes solitude calls to us like the sirens of old. It beckons, pulling the heart away from mundane shores. And yet, steel seas have a way of weaving tales of silent dread, stories that cling to your soul.