In the ashen halls of the elder realms, where the light fears to linger, spun the facets of forgotten whispers. Here lies the nothingness, a cradle for decayed joys. Paths flit like spirits across the mind, destinations unknown, veiled in whispers.
The moons tremble within their obsidian spheres, marking circles with their cries. Among the starlit scrolls, do you linger in the periphery or plunge into depths unseen? Seek beneath the surface where reason unravels.
Fragment, guttered, scatter the panes of sanity. An ode to hollow dreams dredges the air—where voices of the ancients drift like vaporous entities tethered to nothing but echoes.
Mandate of shadowed kings: the silent decree whispers between the pages. Hearken to the ripples cast, by unseen hands, disturbing the tranquil chaos that masquerades as truth.
Illuminate unseen corridors of doubt with woven starlight. Stained with the salt of aeons, infinite veneration, each a scar upon the fringes of reality.
Enter the Expanses