Tempus Ruptura ©️

Sit closer. You are not here to be comforted—you are here to be unmade.

What you think of as time is no divine current, no immutable law. It is scaffolding. It is a cage we have built for ourselves, and every man rattles its bars believing the prison is the world. Tonight you will learn how to bend those bars until the cage folds in on itself.

The subject—an ordinary man—believes he enters a room. He does not know the room itself is the spell. No mirrors to remind him of a face unchanged, no windows to betray the sun’s true arc. The only voice he hears is the voice we grant him: the tick of a clock, the rising and falling of lamps, the arrival of meals like ritual offerings. Every cue is controllable, and through cues reality is rewritten.

You wish to rip a year into a day? Then you tear the rhythm of the world from his body and replace it with your own. Spin the clock faster. Command the lamps to mimic three hundred and sixty-five dawns and dusks in the course of twenty-four hours. Deliver his bread and water in relentless sequence—breakfast, lunch, supper, and back again until his stomach believes the lie. Anchor him with small rites: write this line, fold this cloth, kneel, rise. Repeat them until memory buckles beneath the weight of its own repetition.

Soon, he will no longer question. He will feel the drag of months across his shoulders, the creeping fatigue of time endured. His journal will speak of seasons turning. His mind will carry the burden of anniversaries, regrets, and victories that never happened. For him, it is real, because he has lived it. And what a man has lived cannot be called false.

Understand what this means: time is not a force. Time is obedience. Time is what the body consents to follow. Strip away the sun, the stars, the calendar etched into the sky, and you may compel him to obey your sun, your stars, your calendar. He will kneel not to nature, but to your arrangement of shadows.

Remember this lesson, for you will not hear it twice: Time is not given. Time is taken. And he who learns to take it can unmake the world.

To The Ends of the Earth ©️

Incantation of Imperviousness

By the shadowed veil and the moon’s pale light, Let words of malice fade into the night. Bound by the ether, unseen, unfelt, A cloak of silence, like midnight’s pelt.

Through ancient echoes, whispers grow faint, A shield of shadows, none can taint. May venomous tongues and spiteful gaze, Be turned to mist in twilight’s haze.

With the sigil of the unseen, and the power of the unknown, I conjure a barrier, strong as stone. Let all intentions dark and unkind, Dissolve like dew at morning’s find.

Enshrouded in mystery, I walk unseen,
Impervious to malice, untouched, serene.
By the arcane force, mote it be,
I am the shadow, I am free.

As the stars guard the night, so too am I guarded, Through this spell, all harm is parted.