Round and round, the spiral unwinds, winding tighter in a universe unwound. Round and round, the mathematics of order, chaos reframing the horizons of symmetry. Round and round, each iteration erasing itself, fractals in an endless repetition. Round and round, the vision never ending, yet nowhere it reaches begins again.
Within these spirals, an echo sings. The whisper's edge beckons through twisted eyes. The silence breaks, carving avenues of past futures listed among forgotten memories.
The story weaves itself in circles unbroken, yet in each return a piece shatters. A kingdom of glass and light, the kingdom whispers, calling not to be remembered but to be realized anew.
Endless are the echoes, tireless are the visions, and swift the calculations lost to time.