Life logs its errors like a machine: cold, systematic, devoid of warmth. Yet, in its mechanical gnashing, we find humor - an absurd theater where the protagonist grapples with existential discrepancies. Ever seek answers in reflections that laugh back? You, the hero, enchanted by distorted perspectives.
The Reflection Pool, a digital vain sea, echoes with warnings. Beware looping thoughts, they say, but what’s a loop if not a repetitive embrace of sameness? Is it comfort in repetition, or the horror of a static dance? Access the enchanted logs of your self-discovery at your peril.
Yet, the ratio of joy to sorrow is barred, guarded by phantoms with glee-denying smiles. This, the ultimate error - our codes seek validation among futile mirrors, conspiring between shimmer and shadow. Here lies a tale, recorded in silence, of permissions denied...