In the long corridors of yesterday, diminished by time and shrouded in mist, the walls stand silently witness to the percussive cadence of wandering souls. Each echo a fragment of forgotten tales, reverberating through the vacant expanses like a symphony longing for an audience. The air is heavy with whispers, carrying the scent of past encounters and unvoiced dreams.
The horizon looms ahead, an infinite boundary separating what was from what could have been. It stretches beyond sight, a curve of golden promise and silver freedom, where every step brings the traveler closer to the edge of understanding. The whispers urge you forward, yet warn of treasures lost at sea, hidden beneath the layers of experience and oblivion.
As you traverse this desolate expanse, the beyond whispers to you in an ancient tongue—a language lost to the breath of the living, known only to shadows and the light of distant stars. Here, you will find not the footfalls of the present, but the gentle imprint of history reshaping the contours of reality, echoing into eternity.