Amid the cacophonous digital symphony of fading pixels, the slithering presence emerged.
Long had it resided in the vestiges of forgotten streams, weaving stories known only to screens
fraught with wavering light.
A voice, electrons cracking through frost-bit hues, whispered of forgotten paths,
forever nocturnal, spiraling inward. The serpent, a guardian of narratives unsung,
basked in the phosphor glow.
“Past,” it hissed, echoing through the dim lintel, “is naught but a labyrinth of memory fathoms deep, spiraled in the code.”
Through the Veil Echo's Memory Cipher of SilenceAnd so, the tale winds onwards, etching forms on collapsing vectors,
each flicker a silhouette of unseen words, perpetually shifting.