Devotion to the Serpent's Shadow

Once, in a world not unlike our own, but stitched together with seams of forgotten anachronisms, lay the serpent's shadow. It lived in the spaces between the concrete and the calm, where the shadows lengthened through midday haze and whispered secrets of ages past.

A tale of devotion, perhaps misplaced, perhaps merely a reflection of human yearning, finds its place here. In the alleys of Rome, beneath the ancient aqueducts, a figure cloaked in leather and wisdom sought answers. His name was Lysander, an archivist with more love for the forgotten than the present.

Lysander owned an ancient typewriter, a curious device from a future time, or was it from the past? It sat in the corner of his workshop, ever present like the shadow of the serpent. Occasionally, it would clatter to life, typing messages in a language unknown, yet familiar.

The serpent weaves through time...

One day, amidst the clatter, a message appeared: "The hollow ring shall reveal its secret when the moon bleeds light." Yet, only Lysander understood the true meaning, or perhaps he alone wished to.

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