The shadow of the waning moon casts its baleful gaze upon you, dear Leo, a royal beast known for courage and intensity. As silence strangles the world outside, your inner sanctum will be invaded by the spectral whispers of forgotten yesteryears. The spectral shapes that haunt your dreams are not mere figments conjured by the slumbering mind, but echoes of horrendous secrets long buried deep within the abyss of memory and time, threatening to claw their way out to play macabre games with your sanity.

Beware, for your usual zeal may transfigure into a relentless obsession. Darkness, ever desirous to consume the light, shall exploit your fiery determination, luring you into its cold, gnarled embrace. The labyrinthine corridors of your stronghold might turn into eerie mazes riddled with unseen phantoms, with each echoing footstep whispering unsettling tales. Maintain caution when the air grows frigid, and shadows form aberrant, grotesque shapes; they seek to ensnare your spirit. Remember, though you are the lion, even the mightiest can be led astray or worse, devoured, in this treacherous game of predation painted over the canvas of this dreadful night.