Whispers from the void, a lullaby woven from stardust and ancient secrets.
Echoes of a time not lost but paused, begging mortal ears to listen.
Peering into the multiverse, the narrative of souls entangled in infinite loops.
Voyage to the Secret Mandalas
An invitation lies below the horizon, wrapped in veils of illusion.
The clock hands rotate counter to logic, twisting paths, devouring the dawn.
Seek not the labyrinth from sensation, for it is the origin of all narratives.