The sautéed whispers of a cosmic dawn ripple through the air. Did you hear the rhythm of the fried fragments turning amid galaxies? Glorious meat of the orb, imbued are the secrets of the eclipsed hogs.

In the twilight's embrace, we chant the recipes woven into the fabric of time. Who kneads these visions in the simmer of a fractured timeline? Echoes say it's flavored dreams of epochs past.