Veiled beneath the gentle hum of twilight, a whisper calls. Follow it, or not, as the choice matters not. You will find that the path lives outside, not within, the echoing corridors of forgotten minds.
Perhaps you should ascend the shadows of the east wall, where whispers gather dew, and contemplate the flickering twilight. If you must gaze, do so with eyes closed, for the vision is clearer that way.
Engage with the echo of a single moment, where time bends and breaks. Step lightly on the threads of dreams, and never mind the warnings etched in the sand. For here, where the illusions dance, the truth is simply a reflection of your own making.
{{{ End the journey at the edge of your reflection. }}}
See the Dreamscape Catch the Phantoms