Farmer

Let not the outside speak to the inside. The ultimate is present, why look at the start? There was a reason for the keystroke that created these very words, the inspiration that gave rise to the careful, fragile existence that I took as natural—as mine.

Deep inside the cave, after much time spent in the dark, a door leads into a secret underground complex.

The floor beneath your feet is rough and uneven, strewn with loose pebbles and patches of moss. As you step into the room, a chill runs down your spine, and a musty scent fills the air, betraying the long-forgotten secrets hidden within these cavernous depths.

The chamber, dimly lit by flickering torches lining the stone walls, exudes an aura of foreboding mystery. The high vaulted ceiling is adorned with intricate carvings of mythical creatures. The rough-hewn walls are composed of rugged gray stone, their surface weathered and worn from the passage of time.

A row of stone pillars, intricately carved with runes and symbols of unknown origin, stand like silent sentinels. Their purpose eludes you, yet their presence adds an air of mysticism to the chamber.