In the heart of the spiral tide, where shadows whisper secrets only the moon can understand, lies a loop satirical in its persistence, inevitable yet avoiding destinations. The mirrors speak in languages forgotten, your name echoes differently each time it reaches the infinite horizon.
Portal Rots: The door shifted, a dimension of velvet smoke lingered, sunlight splintering into forgotten melodies. Walk through – a step, a leap, a destiny unbidden.
Whispering Walls: They talk, oh how they talk! Alien tongues caressing the walls with velvet fury, promising impossible futures that aren't as distant as they seem.