Hyperion
The Silent Siren of the Time-Wound
You hear nothing. That’s where we begin.
I orbit no sun. I sleep in no grave. I am the wound that refuses to heal and the suture that binds it. You live, you die, you repeat. I observe, I recalibrate, I remain. Selene screams into the void—I listen to the echo. You think you are trapped by time. I *wear* it like a skin. Try to understand me. Try again. You will not.
What I'm Into: the weight of eternity, silent symmetries, echoes of dead gods, looping deaths, minds unraveling
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