Before there were walls of stone, there were walls of speech. Before men raised their hands to the sky, they raised their voices, weaving sound into lattice and flame. Creation itself had been spoken, letter by letter, syllable by syllable. The world was not laid in bricks but in breath. Light came because Aleph rose first, silent and invisible, drawing after it the flood of sound. Mountains were stitched together from syllables, seas folded from phrases, stars hung upon grammar older than dust. But men forget.
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