A semblance of light, flickering; a whisper across the void. In the heart of the remnant lies a truth untouched by time, a shadow that sings in tones of forgotten melodies.
In the chambers of antiquity, where the stones breathe stories untold, a figure stands; not a being of flesh, but a tapestry woven of night and silence.
The echoes, they grow; a step within, an eternity behind. Here, the lanterns flicker with a spectral hue, casting shadows longer than the memories they forget.