The Sync Prelude

Like echoes in an empty corridor, the sync begins, tentative, a whisper cascading down the staircase of our minds. Is it the echo of footsteps or perhaps the heartbeat of the labyrinth itself? Maze Echo, they call it.

Kaleidoscopic visions unfurl like petals at dawn, woven with dreams discarded on the edge of consciousness. Strings of silver thread connect us, invisible, yet palpable. And in the distance, the symphony of forgotten memories plays Symphony of Forgetting.

Dream: a fleeting shadow
Nightfall
Thought: fragmented
Puzzle Pieces
Vision: unfurling
Epiphany
Whisper: a lingering
Echo
Heartbeat: syncopated
Rhythm
Labyrinth: eternal
Eternity

The stars are not above, but within, a cosmic dance of neurons firing in sync, a prelude to what? The answer lies in the labyrinth, a place where neither time nor space adhere to the rules of the known universe. Unknown Universe.