When Jakob moved to touch it, the hole inhaled—not like wind but like attention. The chamber unfolded. He was no longer standing on basalt steps but on a shoreline that had never been, at dusk where two moons hung like coin lanterns above a sea of glass. Voices surged—faint, layered—his mother calling his childhood name, sailors singing a mastless hymn. Memories around him unspooled like netting, and he understood that the Golden Abyss held the capacity to unmake grief by letting the lost be remembered again—temporarily, and at a price.
Stay safe and enjoy gaming.