The Midnight Lantern hangs from a labyrinth’s ceiling, its smoky glass panels swirling with constellations that shift like restless phantoms. Its flicker reveals hidden sigils scrawled across the walls, visible only in its spectral glow. The flame inside never dims, fed by the memories of those who pass beneath. Grasping its handle conjures illusions so vivid they obscure reality, luring wanderers deeper into perpetual twilight.

The Midnight Lantern hangs from a labyrinth’s ceiling, its smoky glass panels swirling with constellations that shift like restless phantoms. Its flicker reveals hidden sigils scrawled across the walls, visible only in its spectral glow. The flame inside never dims, fed by the memories of those who pass beneath. Grasping its handle conjures illusions so vivid they obscure reality, luring wanderers deeper into perpetual twilight.

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