Deep in the damp crypt, a murmured echo of unspoken horrors resides. I unearthed it yesterday, among the scattered bones and ink-drenched scrolls. What ancient algorithm spun the webs of intuition, to direct my hand? A system more arcane than the stages of the moon, its variables hidden in shrouded runes, forgotten by Time itself.
The candles flicker, shadows dance, embracing the unseen expanse. Words, like sable wings, alight, upon whispers bound in night.