Floating along the edges of tangible existence, the Phantom Resorts have become tales woven into the fabric of strange wanderings. These resorts, like gossamer threads, exist in stretches of forgotten locales, only whispered about in oblique travelogues.
Once vibrant with ephemeral laughter, now, only shadows of the past linger, echoing in the empty halls. The architecture bends, not with the passage of time, but with the energy of those who once sought solace among these spectral havens.