#the phantom codex

In the space between heartbeats, the living and the dead whisper to one another. Their words are not spoken but echoed — soft, strange, and eternal.

Scholars of the Realms call these echoes The Phantom Codex: a collection of verses carved into stone, scattered through time, each one a record of a soul that crossed the veil — human, ghost, or something caught in between.

No one remembers who first wrote them. Perhaps they wrote themselves.

What remains are fragments: prophecies, elegies, and songs of those who lived, died, and lingered. Legends born from the rift where green light meets shadow.

This is their archive. Their hymn. Their haunting.

— The first verse belongs to the boy who walks between.

Danny

One for the living, two for the dead, Three for the ghost with the crown on his head. Four for the rift where the echoes call, Five for the boy who will save — or fall. Six for the portal, glowing green, Seven for realms that drift unseen. Eight for the friends who stand through fright, Nine for the heart split wrong from right. Ten for the name the world won’t know, Half of light, and half of woe.

A hero of silence, a secret untold, A bond of warmth in a world so cold. Should truth be spoken, the veil may rend— For death and life must never blend.