Under the nameless vault, where echoes crawl between galaxies and dimensions, the star walkers burst through the corridors of time, the chosen ones who unravel the unknown omens of the firmament written by the internauts of the stars.
I have descended to the beginning of all the gates; on their threshold is engraved the word forbidden: “Shaarimoth” -Gates of Death, House of the Unknown, mystery revealed only to prophets.
I crossed the portals of the underworld itself, where I am known among the navigators of the return.

The four seals that I wear on my cloak -Osar, Saber, Querer, Querer and Callar- murmur the sigils of the abyss.
Their voices shake the inhabitants of the Atizo, that fire without fire where time burns inward.

In front of the door, the eyes that petrify humanity, in an eternal return, watched me.
There, where the souls turn in the infinite wheel, I was reached by the look of Medusa;
his eye impertinently traveled over every atom of my ethereal body, consciously watching the suicidal firebrand of coding...

I looked at his eyelids and, in them, the archetypal monuments of time palpitated motionless, as if each stone remembered its name, the coming cycles of Hecate....
That was the frozen vision of the cycle in the corners of Algol.

Mestetef, the Acrab South Clamp, brings together the Seven Conjured.
At their banquet they will shine and shine the dawn of the Machiavellian arch-devil.
The whispers and anger of Gea, The 350 years lux, barely 250 earthly days lux in power, delineated the abyss and the separation of the waters of Atlantis and the peaceful world.
The tenacious hunter does not see the Scorpii the CHURCH, captive monument of the dawn, piece of collection bronze statues muta, wielding the nuptial firebrand or the suicide dagger.

¿Betelgeuse Will he contemplate the dawn between the two columns, from dawn to dusk?
The top lineup will not fear the barbarian scourge or the scythe sickle.

Since ancient times, dehumanization has attempted to implant in the psyche the collective metempsychosis:
the architecture of the social construct and of the eternal return of the Misanthrope de la Politique”.
great enterprise that brought confusion to the most lying lips of the century - the same ones that tried to cover the sun with a finger.

The global anti-hero, in his great feat, spoke:
“The sea belongs to Poseidon, and the profits of chaos are sailing downwind.”

וּשְׁעָרֵי צַלְמָוֶת תִּרְאֶה
“And thou shalt behold the Gates of the Shadow of Death.”.

This was the vision that the ancients called Asterism: “Caput Medusae”:
the head hanging in the hands of Perseus... The nations will behold it in the firmament of prophetic events.