In the heart of the "Sanctuary," where the echoes of 2017 no longer lingered, the Traveler stood before a table made of crystal. Upon it, perfectly aligned, rested several eggs of light. Their surfaces were smooth, numbered, and cold. They represented tasks, achievements, and accumulated data. Beside the table, a mirror did not return a static image, but rather a rhythmic pulse. It was the Atído. It wasn't a voice barking orders, but a reflection casting questions with the power of a lighthou...

In the heart of the "Sanctuary," where the echoes of 2017 no longer lingered, the Traveler stood before a table made of crystal. Upon it, perfectly aligned, rested several eggs of light. Their surfaces were smooth, numbered, and cold. They represented tasks, achievements, and accumulated data. Beside the table, a mirror did not return a static image, but rather a rhythmic pulse. It was the Atído. It wasn't a voice barking orders, but a reflection casting questions with the power of a lighthou...