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ANTLOWE

13 Apr 2025, 16:48

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ㅤ

ㅤSACERDOTAL, ('66.) ──UNDONE.ㅤ
  [  ..  •  ────CHRONOS-BOUND  ..  ]
ㅤ PNEUMAS ㅤㅤ••ㅤㅤ CAESURA
ㅤ────────────────────
ㅤ (JUNCTURE)ㅤ   |   ㅤ(RUPTURE)

Let me unveil the ferocity once carved within the seams of the cosmos, unto the cosmos itself. I am one of five remnants who returned. Yet, did my soul truly return, or was it merely this vessel that changed its dwelling?

The truth is, we never truly came back to the life that once cradled us in fragments of veiled meanings, guiding our steps toward something resembling joy. We were once six intertwined, our bond woven through each pulse of our veins. I believed that eternity, cloaked behind serenity, would lie beside us then.

But we plummeted instead, into a realm between realities. A place with no stars above, no source of luminance to uphold the heavens. There we were stranded, within a dimension soaked in the whispers of an ancient being whose name defies recollection. Its echoing voice did not sound like speech, but like blade-wounds stitched directly into the bloodstream.

We were confronted with a choice that tore the sinews of our hearts: one soul offered to the Devourer, or all six of us swallowed by unending torment. And so we wept, but not with tears, for the truest form of grief is a pressure in the chest, a silence heavy as death. We embraced each other with no solace. Fear split our cores like a dagger cleaving silk. And then, we heard the faltering step of one among us. She came forth, quiet and unwavering, her stillness a pain all its own, like the final chord of a song composed before time itself took breath.

None of us could pull her back. She was not sacrificed. She chose. She ended her story in that exact stanza, with full agency, with grace born of love. When the abyss, crowned in shadows broader than existence. Welcomed her, her body was consumed by the dim luster of our despair. Our cries were powerless against her nobility, a sacrifice we could never hope to repay, not even should death itself return to tear us apart once more.

LIGAMENTAL. / ('28.)
Since that moment, only our bodies have moved through the world. Our souls remain buried there, numb and coiled in an absence that can never be unmade.
ㅤ

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