Snake on the Round Table

As a dozen fossils leave feathery ash in a museum glass case, the Ouroboros on the round table eats its own shadow. From the sudden crack in the center of the stone table, a rusty whisper leaked out: "The balance you protect is the deepest shackles."​ When the full moon climbs up to the clock tower, someone always sees a person sitting on the empty chair, writing new rules on the table with stardust - but there is no name in those rules.