Have you pressed your ear against the heart of the old shell? Listen closely, and it speaks the story of ages. Tides echo and amplify the unseen symphony—woven secrets of graveyard laughter ripple into the bright moonlit air.
Dance, undead! For the whispering winds carry unknown burdens—a waltz confined to our dimming memories is revived, energetically hopping from tombstone to tombstone!
What beat follows now under the watchful stars? An improvised melody chaos sprung from clues coated with dew. Only seashells can cradle the utterances of yesterdays in their timeless storage silos.
Abyss Tales AwaitBeneath the Silent Reeds