Once, in a realm where echoes wore shadows, there was a tale of a wandering whisper.
A whisper of a time, a shadow of a moment, and a dream of a reflection.
Ever it echoed, looping in the corridors of the ethereal.
Follow the echo
"Do you remember the day," it began, "that never seemed to end?"
"Yes," replied the dream, "and yet, it loops, it loops, it loops..."
The reflections mirrored not the faces, but the feelings, the fleeting thoughts.
Enter the hall
In the dreamscape, where time is but a trickster, the stories repeat like
a broken record, yet with each turn, there's a new twist in the tale.
The dreamer's eyes glazed with the endless possibilities of mirrored infinities.
Open the portal