In the beginning, there was a dot amidst endless darkness, vibrating. And then it spoke: “Beyond the warp lies the dream.” Lucy stepped over the threshold of reality, into a ponderous darkness, punctuated by a singular point of luminescence. The light hummed with a frequency that matched her heartbeat, and with each pulse, the void reshaped itself. At first, she traversed on familiar ground, but much like a winding river, the path began to twist without end. Twisting corridors whispered secrets, beams of forgotten glossaries written in geometric languages. “Touch nothing,” the echo of her companion murmured, though he had vanished long before. She ambled through hallways of color-spun fabric, pages of a book never written flipping by in a lazy brise. Elusive figures danced at the shore of her vision, disappearing as she turned to meet their gaze. And then she stumbled upon a mirror, reflecting not her image but a twisting labyrinth of herself. Each turn echoed louder, and she understood: This place was made to ensnare thoughts, a maze without a destined exit. The moon laughed mockingly over the shifting walls, its form wobbling with a terraneous glow.