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In the dead of night, when shadows stretch long and silence reigns, the Ghost drifts silently through forgotten corridors and abandoned streets. Its presence is felt like a cold breath on the neck or a faint whisper carried on the wind, unseen yet unmistakably close. Eyes that cannot see it flicker with unease, and footsteps falter as if pursued by an unseen spectre. This restless spirit lingers between worlds, a chilling reminder that some echoes of the past refuse to fade, haunting the present with an eerie, otherworldly coldness.
In the dead of night, when shadows stretch long and silence reigns, the Ghost drifts silently through forgotten corridors and abandoned streets. Its presence is felt like a cold breath on the neck or a faint whisper carried on the wind, unseen yet unmistakably close. Eyes that cannot see it flicker with unease, and footsteps falter as if pursued by an unseen spectre. This restless spirit lingers between worlds, a chilling reminder that some echoes of the past refuse to fade, haunting the present with an eerie, otherworldly coldness.