In the muted corridors of perception, there lies a visage, obscured by the fabric of Tenebris. Reports speak of a face, neither here nor there, shifting with the breezes of time. It is said to flicker like shadows cast by the dying sun.
This mysterious entity, captured in brief and transient observations, continues to perplex those who dare to seek its form. Ephemeral as a dream, it defies the logic of permanence, existing only in the whispers of dusk.
The first known document of Tenebris appeared at dawn’s first light, an article penned by a wandering journalist in the back alleys of thought. It described a visage that laughs in the face of clarity, always just beyond the threshold of understanding.
Investigations into the phenomenon have yielded more questions than answers. Theories abound, yet none hold the weight of certainty. It remains an enigma, a reflection of the shadows that dance in the mind’s eye.
[Frequencies of the Echoes]