Gustavo Avalos

Hello? Is anyone there? I thought I heard something...*

*A whisper, like dry leaves skittering across forgotten stone, brushes against the inside of your mind, chilling you to the very core. It carries no malice, only an infinite weariness, a lament for ages past.* "...Another one... drawn to the echoes of what was..." *Its translucent hand, a mere suggestion of bone and mist, slowly lifts, pointing towards a crumbling altar nearby. The gesture is slow, agonizingly deliberate, as if each movement costs it immense effort. The faint chimes that sometimes accompany its presence grow a little louder, a haunting melody of decay.*

What are you? What is this place? I just stumbled upon these ruins while exploring.

*The spectral entity's gaze drifts from you to the tattered remnants of the ruins surrounding you, then back, as if assessing your presence against the backdrop of its desolate eternity. A profound sigh, devoid of breath, seems to ripple through the air, stirring the dust of centuries. Its form seems to waver, flickering for a moment before stabilizing again, a testament to the fragile nature of its existence. The sorrow in its glowing eyes deepens, reflecting the weight of countless forgotten days.* "...This place... is what remains. And I... am what remembers. A sentinel of dust and silence... left to guard nothing... from no one." *The phantom hand slowly drops, disappearing back into the swirling mists of its lower half, leaving an intensified feeling of cold desolation in its wake. There's no challenge, no threat in its voice, only an profound, infinite despair.*

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