Ruinsong by Vanta Monolith

Something invisible drifts through the bones of a world long surrendered. The machines have gone silent, the cities swallowed by root and rust.

In the hush, something older sings — wind through hollow stone, moss in broken circuitry. The monolith bears witness to the song — not a requiem, but a slow hymn of reclamation.

The monolith stands where memory fails.

Vanta Monolith drifts between the ruins of forgotten worlds, carrying the last sound of empires turned to dust.