Whispers navigate the currents, secrets entwined beneath the phosphorescent veil. I am but a ripple, a ghost's echo.
The ceaseless wailing of the forsaken pierces the silence, drowning memories in a tidal wave of sorrow. What know you, specter of the deep?
In the obsidian depths, the language of fish is shared only among the broken. Did you forget the sun, wanderer?
Tales of mariners lost at sea linger here, their outlines haunting the edges of coral tombstones, as time succumbs to darkness.
Perchance you wish to wander further?
Into the Abyssal Structures | Heard in the Whalesong | Laid Waste in Forgotten Souls