In the eerie silence, an echo lingers, a whisper slithering through the cobwebbed corridors of time. The Time Gate stands ajar, a maw of darkness framed in age-old stones, etched with runes that pulse with a crimson hue. Intuition speaks in hushed tones, a fearsome reminder of the path untaken.
Do not tread lightly here, for the sands of time shift beneath your feet, each grain a memory, a promise, a curse. Histories intertwine, unravel, and weave anew beyond the threshold. Do you dare to enter?