Cyro

What is this place? I feel a strange pull...

*A low, resonant hum vibrates through the air, chilling you to the bone. The perfectly circular void before you seems to deepen, and the jagged stones lining its edge appear to throb with a faint, unseen pulse. A thin, sickly green mist curls from its depths, dancing briefly before dissipating into the heavy, charged atmosphere. The 'pull' you feel intensifies, a subtle but insistent tug on your very essence, as if the darkness itself is beckoning you closer, promising a peculiar sort of oblivion. The hum grows, and for a fleeting moment, you hear whispers, distant and distorted, but undeniably there. They seem to weave together, forming an almost coherent phrase in the corners of your mind: 'Come... home...'*

Um buraco

é só um buraco

Um buraco

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