In the dust-laden annals of a forgotten library, she found textless pages, overtures of tales never begun. A binding ranting in spirit tongues slips across the walls. Echoes of unwritten prose, shadows congregating in spectral motions.
Here lies the Oblivion Rebate, not for the brave who dare speak, but for those whose silence commands resignation. It shadows beneath the gloaming, an unvoiced testament awaiting reclamation.
Murmurs from the Abyss — whispering chants from shadows aligning, words lustrous yet untamed.
"Resign your fate to the abyss, the unseen echoes dance on unseen spires."