"You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star."

In an age of quiet ambition, a reclusive artisan embarked on an impossible quest: to create the perfect bonsai. Each cut, every branch, held a fragment of their soul—memories, fears, and dreams infused into the tree’s delicate form.

They believed that perfection would transcend nature and craft a window into the universe’s truth. But their obsession took a dark turn. The tree grew beyond its pot, beyond its creator, twisting reality itself into a labyrinth of impossible dimensions.

"We live, as we dream—alone."

In an age of quiet ambition, a reclusive artisan embarked on an impossible quest: to create the perfect bonsai. Each cut, every branch, held a fragThe bonsai became a monstrosity—a living maze that devoured the artisan’s mind and warped their memories into an endless prison. Its roots wove through space and thought, blurring the lines between dream and reality.

What was meant to be a testament to beauty became a nightmare, its alien flora pulsing with a strange and haunting life. The artisan vanished, and the labyrinth became a snare for those unfortunate enough to wander into its grasp.ment of their soul—memories, fears, and dreams infused into the tree’s delicate form.

"It is not down in any map; true places never are."

Now, you stand within the labyrinth. The air is thick with petrichor, and the twisted walls seem to watch, whispering fragments of forgotten lives. The glowing plants pulsate as if alive, and shadows move where none should exist.

The labyrinth invades your mind, dredging up fractured memories and bending them into illusions. Each step deeper reveals its hunger, each pause feels like the moment it might consume you whole.

"We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep."

To free yourself, you must uncover the labyrinth’s origins and the truth behind the artisan’s final act. What did they unleash in their pursuit of perfection? The answers lie buried within the bonsai’s roots, but finding them means confronting the shadows of your own mind.

Time is silent, yet the labyrinth waits. Its patience is endless, its grip tightening. Will you sever its hold before it makes you part of its memory forever?