In the crumbling chrysalis of forgotten lore, where echoes weave tales of sepulchral winds, we stand upon the precipice of the Alpha End. Each whispered lament is a reminder of what once lingered in the hollow chambers of the soul, now a mere specter of existence.
The clock strikes thirteen in this realm, where twilight is eternal and the sun a distant memory. Shadows dance, and the cobwebs of time entangle our being, urging us to remember those halcyon days shrouded in a veil of bittersweet nostalgia.
Beneath the alabaster moon, we trace our fingers over the ancient sigils etched in stone, seeking solace in the familiar yet distant carvings of forgotten gods. They call to us, their voices a haunting melody that stirs the heart and brings forth tears of joy, mingled with sorrow.