ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ (The mire is both a memory.) &. Foretelling. It whispers of things "past yet unborn, of specters not." Tethered by chronology, Open Time. Each moment here is liminal, poised on becoming Regulation. and Master police. @qlumineth | The moon itself, weary guardian of this esoteric tableau, casts its argent lament upon the land, a Catalogue unbroken across ages send to @luminarhy. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ