In the realm where the underworld holds reverence, whispers coil like smoke around forgotten stories. You lean in, closer, eyes eclipsed by the shadow-flecked radiant veil, and listen—a journey to the umbra etched vividly on your mind.
In the heart of darkness, an echo of a light you never saw—never imagined—trickles through like starlight seeping through midnight fog.
Seashell symphonies blend with silent sighs. It's a place where echoes of oceanic myths meld with ancient whispers of the umbra's lullabies.
Crystalline arrangements tremble, waiting to be heard as if remnants of a mirage trapped within glass are all too aware of their transient nature.