Whispers from the Abyss

In the hollow of a night's embrace, where the wind's lament kisses the moon's shadow, there dwells a voice. It calls, soft and beguiling, from the depths of once-there, now-forgotten realms. Have you heard it? Seek the Echo.

“Once, the gardens were full,” she whispered, eyes like fading embers tracing constellations on the velvet walls. The caretaker walked by, silent, his presence a lingering afterthought in the corridors of dust. Paths once tread are now veiled in cobwebs thick with mystery and silence. But step lightly, for the floors of this ancient refuge know tales the air has forgotten.

Beneath the shroud of twilight's final sigh, the Guardian stands vigil, its eyes reflecting worlds unexplored. Each blink a portal, each whisper a memory.