Aquarius, the Walker of the Stars, your cosmic sphere is plagued with the eerie shadows of the Phantom Moon. The macabre dance of celestial bodies unravels a path laden with things that shamble in the desolate silence, eager for their taste of life. Aquarius, the currents of your resilience and intuition, once crystal clear, now run murky and putrid. Vigilance, my dear Water Bearer, is your guiding lantern against the abyss, for every heartbeat echoes louder, every breath drawn is a call to the insatiable.

The haunting whispers of fallen stars predict upheaval, and the zombie horoscope cautions against complacency. Your typical counterparts, poise and inventiveness, will only ward off destruction if tethered by tenacity. A chain of existence hangs in the balance, wavering on the thin, fragile line of survival. Trust not the quiet, for it conceals bitter dread. The stench of decay hangs in the weary air, but you must endure. Through the impending dread, remember, Aquarius, the undead fear the indomitable spirit. Embrace it fiercely, for the night bleeds hope in these waning hours of survival.