I awaken in an expanse of azure, a container of promises and whispering echoes. The world above is a hidden silhouette, shapeless yet familiar. I dance on the currents, awaiting the moment when the tapestry will unfurl, revealing splatters of destiny.
What am I, if not a fragment of the unspoken? A mere tear from a cloud-adorned sky, trickling down to fuse with the earth below. I hear stories from those who have journeyed before me—kissing lilies under the moonlight, entangled in thorns' embrace. Their tales are rich, filled with forgotten realms that tease my essence.
As I slip through the veil, I'm pulled by a gentle force toward a dimension called "sub_phenomena"—a realm obscured and arcane. I am shown silhouettes of the world, shadow dances in a cosmic play. Oh, how I wish to touch those specters, to know their stories as they know mine.
The fall begins. It's not an end, but a beginning. The descent is layered in color, familiar yet strange. I become a tapestry of reflections, weaving through the folds of existence. Will I meet the forgotten echoes, remnants of those who once rumbled before me?
Onward I go, weaving stories of dew-kissed grass and memories of the wind. Each drop a narrative, each drop a silhouette in the ocean of unity. I leave echoes behind, trails of mist and forgotten worlds—a cycle unbroken, the dance eternal. What awaits at the end? Perhaps another beginning, perhaps a story untold.
Trace another thread