Repetition breeds comfort. It lulls. It anchors. It triggers. Something is summoned, something enteric and unwritten. Something that came before. With time - and pressure - it fractures the surface. It comes to occupy, to colonise. The figures it carves are worshipped with wanderings, but everyone knows their true names. Each one is a point along the spectrum. They dislike disorder. Prominence makes them immune to incantations and the like. Eating them is taboo. Once kindled, they cannot be revoked. And now, they feed.