Upon the renowned Phoebos Terra, anomalies are traced to trodden grounds visible only in the methane-bleached sands. Echoes calculated to ricochet deep within the inner strata; what tune does the orb hum in the company of providential masquerades?
Eons overlay like sedimentary regret, leveraged upon one another. While corrosion beckons alabaster cliffs to succumb, peculiar markings resist synthetic reconstructions. Such petrochemicals leave cryptic inheritances... Or visions of a lost dialogue?
Consider: Is there synergy in attrition?