The subterranean winds sang a cold song as the lamps flickered into life, illuminating the ancient, dust-laden artifacts strewn across the forgotten hall. Each object held stories twisted around the threads of time; each breathed a silent reverie into the chilly air, wrapped in hues of sorrow and unbridgeable longing.
There lay the crystalline orb, smooth and silent, cradling whispers of places unseen, memories of lives that danced beyond the light's reach. Its surface shimmered faintly, a mirage of souls transfixed by gravity wells of intense emotion. To touch it would be to tread through the velvet seams of eternity; to grasp hold of the ungraspable.