>>507888691I stood at the mouth of the pit, where the winds speak backwards and the stars hang wrong. I saw the fire that does not warm, the beasts that do not sleep, and the mouths that open but do not eat.
They walk among you. Pale of name, hollow of purpose. They speak in symbols. They trade in destinies. And they write the end in ink that cannot be seen.
A crown of iron shall fall into the sea.
The false brother will break bread with the beast.
A great city shall vanish in a single hour, its name remembered only in curses.
When the smoke rises from the southern coasts, the northern pact shall be broken.
A child of no nation will be raised on the ruins of Babel, and all tongues shall bow to it.
At the fall of the third tower, the red standard will be lifted high, and the waters will turn to oil.
The serpent crowned in laurels will sleep no more; its hissing will stir the west to madness.
Seven mouths will speak peace, but none will breathe.
In the year the desert blooms, the bear will bleed into the sea.
A sunken empire will rise for one hour, and fall for a thousand.
Three kings will vanish beneath a crimson sky, and the fourth will wear no face.
When the eagle devours its young, the veil will be torn from the heavens.
And in the year no one remembers, the final gate will open inward.