Beneath the ashen skies, in the void-laden halls, we gather. The microphone crackles with the energy of a thousand forgotten stardust songs. Here, in the mazes without ends, where echoes die before they whisper, sing, or be sung into obsolescence. The lyrics are a map, but the paths are winding.
"In the pale light of a fragmented moon," she sang, "where the stars once shone bright, now only shadows dwell." The melody was chilling, weaving through the spectral audience, each note a silent scream against the eternal night.
Choose your song, but beware, for each selection unlocks a portal to another labyrinthine verse. Wander wisely, the voices of the stars heed no mercy.