In the chaos, the Seer found her visions among the ruins, her eyes reflecting the flicker of possibilities. She saw the threads of fate not as they were but as they might be, weaving predictions that danced like shadows around the firelight of tomorrow.
Seer — Her prophecies were not foretellings but choices, each glimpse of the future a star charted in the navigation of what could be.
⸱ In the echoes of the Timelapse, her whispers became constellations, guiding lost souls towards the light of understanding ⸱
© tomarowsky