Within the labyrinth of truth and mirage, they spun dialogues. Each word unfurled, rippling into depths unknown.

"Conjunctions of thought, do they not flicker like stars in the precincts of oblivion?" one asked, swirling in dimensions unseen.

Reality here was buoyant, gliding between awakenings as the luminescent echoes of old thoughts abandoned their husks.

The other, a figure kaleidoscopic, replied, "Eris and harmony dance in our spacious circles, and here, every ring finds its plateau."