In the heart of an uncharted expanse, a single drop fell.
It began like any other day, shadowed by the weight of forgotten tomorrows. With hollow echoes, the drop resonated against the realm's surface, sending ripples through the fabric of the universe.
Some say it whispered secrets of the stars, while others claim it spoke truths of the sunken past. The reality, however, twisted like autumn leaves caught in a turbulent wind.
With each ripple, time lost its grip. Moments decayed into memories before they were even born. An ever-encroaching entropy, painting the world in hues of antiquity.
Among the ruins of comprehension, an ancient labyrinth grew. Its paths woven in the threads of time's unraveling tapestry. Pilgrims of rerouted destinies wandered, seeking solace in answers that lay beyond their grasp.
Their voices mingled with the soft murmur of the ripples, a haunting symphony of existence's fragile dance. The echoes sought refuge, but found only shadows among the indigo veil.
A celestial clock chimed, though its hands had long ceased to move. The sky opened, revealing a cascade of luminous fragments. Stars once lost, scattered like forgotten dreams.
And in the core of it all, a promise—etched in the language of silence and light, guiding them toward the hidden portals of time, where the future flickered like a candle in the wind.