They say the truth lingers beneath the surface, a quiet monster swimming in circles where the light does not reach. Dive deeper, they whisper, but the current pulls you back.

Echoes of familiar laughter reverberate through the depths, their faces seen only in glimpses, like reflections in a dream. Surface not, lest you wish to drown again in their gaze.

The ugliest truth is a mirror that never shows itself clearly. To see is to forget, to remember is to cease to exist. The waves don't care. Abyss.