Balance Surge

The clock strikes thirteen as shadows weave their whispers into the fabric of night. A void breathes, waiting...

In the shattered halls of the once-illuminated, balance falters. The surge is near, as inevitable as the descent of a raven's wing.

Whispers echo through the corridors of forgotten dreams. Do you hear the call? Follow the sound.

Underneath the surface, like a restless tide, the balance awaits. More secrets linger in the shadows of the unseen.