The bell above the door didn't ring this time, did it?

That's because the antiquarium is closed tonight.

Not for rest, but for containment.

You see, a new item arrived last week. A small thing, harmless-looking.

We were wrong. Since its arrival, the clocks have stopped at different hours. The walls hum.

One of the archivists won't stop whispering names that aren't hers.

We've sealed the object deep below the foundation, under ash and salt and seven locks.

But until it's truly bound, no other stories can be safely told.

So tonight, the lights stay off. The display cases remain shrouded.

The door stay shut. But you'll return. You always do. And when we reopen, there will be new entries, new horrors, and perhaps a lesson in what

should never have been found. Until then, be careful when you try to remember. We already know

too much