In the echoes of tomorrow, shadows whisper.
A door opens, creaking under the weight of memory. You step inside, but it's empty. Or is it?
Faces flicker like candle flames, familiar yet obscured. You reach out, and they dissolve.
Once, there were bells. Loud and jubilant. Now, silence reigns, broken only by the rustle of a breeze.
Outside, a mist covers the path you think you know. Inside, the walls repeat what is never said aloud.
Touch the past if you dare, but be cautious. The phantoms watch with eyes unseeing.