The Veil Thins
The veil thins. Between what is and what might be, a path begins to form— not forged by hand, but by consequence, by thought, by unseen wills that press against the skin of this world.
It does not follow the laws of men, nor the tired axis of good and evil. It simply is— a breach in the firmament, a whisper in the stone, a silence that hums louder than any cry.
Those who listen may hear it. Those who see beyond the surface may walk it. But tread lightly, for not all who wander there return whole.
Beware the gaze of demons. They do not lurk in shadows—they are the shadows, drawn not by ritual, but by resonance. Malice invites malice. Hate is a beacon. And the heart that carries rot shall find its own reflection staring back.
These are not creatures of vengeance or justice— they are mirrors, wrought in suffering, feeding on what festers within.
The passage opens not as gift, but as test. Not all doors are meant to be opened. Not all truths are meant to be borne. Yet still, the path unfolds, step by trembling step, for those who cannot help but follow.
So mark these words in ash or gold: When the veil thins, it does not choose saints nor sinners— only the willing.
Opportunity awaits across this bridge for the daring and brave, but heed caution— for not all is as it seems.
