Bathed in perpetual twilight, the Abyss of Wandering Souls stretched endlessly beneath a canopy of darkness pierced only by the crimson glow of the Eternal Moons.
These twin celestial bodies bled light like oozing wounds in the void, casting everything in an eerie luminescence that neither comforted nor illuminated. No stars adorned the sky, and the absence of a horizon made direction meaningless.
Forests of bone-pale trees shimmered under soul mist, their leaves chittering with the cries of forgotten spirits. Fields of ghost light flora swayed without wind. Crystalline lakes, black as ink, mirrored not the sky above but flickers of memories long-lost.
At times, entire landscapes shifted without warning—solid ground turning into void, waterfalls reversing midair, and soul winds sweeping across to erase any trace of presence.
