In the age when shadows were fractured into colors, the purple whisper stole through the iron halls.
Contraptions of brass and steel churned tirelessly, their heartbeats reminiscent of an ancient, unforgiving march.
Unseen hands moved levers, turning dials with an emotionless grip, molding darkness into hues that never rested.
The clockwork of fate, as indifferent as the stars, wove destinies in this labyrinth of cold and relentless metal.
Shattering violet horizons