In the heart of an amethyst night sky, where stars weep liquid silver, do dreams unfold like the soft exhale of an awakened soul. Here, the moon hums tunes of forgotten lore, casting shadows that dance in harmony with celestial whispers.
Legends speak of serpents coiling through voids of twilight, devouring their own tails to birth galaxies anew. Here, every spiral is a chorus, resonating through the skeletal remains of an elder world's sigh.
Perched on the precipice of azure like a sweeping mantra, the sea humbles itself before the silver glass tower – holding echoes of whispers once believed to turn to gold across the ether.