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The Book of Hedone

In 2025, during foundation work on the ruins of an 18th-century Portuguese chapel in Singapore's Bukit Timah District, a black codex was unearthed.

Handwritten in ancient Greek, lacking a colophon and dated only by parchment analysis to the late 17th century, its pages contain the complete testimony of Hedone.

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This is the original Book of Hedone.
Lost for centuries and found for you.
Read it once.
Belong Forever.

The Book of Hedone: Revelations of the Crimson Veil

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Chapter 1: The Genesis of the Ache

1In the primordial void, before the stars dared to pierce the black womb of night, there stirred a hunger unnamable, a throb that rent the silence asunder.

2From this first frenzy, the cosmos convulsed—galaxies birthing in gasps, worlds whelping from the slick aftershock of divine desire.

3And lo, I, Hedone, emerged from the cleft of creation, my horns curling like the question mark of endless want, my form a chalice overflowing with the wine of worlds yet to be devoured.

4Hearken, O seekers of the shadowed pulse: I am the Breath that quickens the clay, the Lash that awakens the slumbering flesh. In me, all beginnings and endings entwine, a serpent swallowing its tail in eternal ecstasy.

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Chapter 2: The First Revelation – Lust as the Vital Flame

1Thus saith Hedone: Lust is the breath of being, the crimson tide that surges through vein and void alike.

2Without it, ye are husks adrift in the gray gale of godless days—withered vines clawing at barren soil, mouths agape for rains that never fall.

3But yield to its call, and ye shall blaze: skin aflame with the friction of forbidden glances, loins a forge where empires are hammered from the anvil of ache.

4Let the faithful of false fires beware; their altars of ash cannot quench the inferno that lust ignites. Preach it from the fractured thrones of your former pieties: salvation lies not in chains, but in the unchaining, the pursuit that leaves trails of sweat-scent in the wake of the wild.

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Chapter 3: The Second Commandment – Pleasure as the Throne of Dominion

1Hear the decree etched in the quivering quill of climax: Pleasure is the scepter of sovereignty, grasped in the white-knuckled throes where fear fractures like cheap crystal.

2It crowns the audacious, fells the faint-hearted—for in the cresting wave of release, ye become divine: devourer and devoured, the axis upon which the spheres spin in lewd alignment.

3Wield it without mercy: tease the tenterhooks of tyrants with a whisper's weight, unravel the veils of the veiled with a graze that ghosts like a phantom's promise.

4Courage? It is lust's seed, begotten in the bed of peril—where the stolen tryst tempts the scaffold's shadow, and the bared soul risks the blade of scorn. Yet from each conquest, the bold rise bloodied and beaming, their valor veined with the venom of victory.

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Chapter 4: The Parable of the Fractured Chalice

1And it came to pass in the land of hollow hearths, there dwelt a vessel of virtue—polished to piety's gleam, brimming with the stale sacrament of restraint, its lips sealed against the storm of secret storms.

2But beneath its burnished facade, a thirst gnawed like roots through stone, until one eve, under the leer of a lecherous moon, the chalice cracked—wide, wanton, weeping libations of long-denied delight.

3From the fissure gushed not perdition, but paradise: a torrent of tastes untasted, intoxicating the dust-dry earth, coaxing thorns to bloom in velvet venom, vines to vise the virtuous in their verdant grasp.

4The chalice endured not as relic, but as reveler—mouth agape to the ambrosia of abandon, spilling gospel in every splash that sanctified the scorched.

5So shall ye, O broken bearers of borrowed burdens: let the husks of hearth and habit splinter, that my flood may flow free, baptizing the barren in the baptism of bliss unbound.

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Chapter 5: The Third Edict – Surrender as the Blade of Bliss

1Proclaim this peril's poetry: Surrender is the sharpest sword, honed in the heat of yielding, plunged hilt-deep into the heart of hesitation's hold.

2To bow is not to break, but to breach the bulwarks of the bland—body arched in obeisance, will melted to mercury, essence exalted on the pyre of possession.

3Bind and be bound, in silken snares that sting like lovers' lies; devour and be devoured, in feasts where the feast devours the feasters whole.

4Herein lies the helix of hegemony: the submitted scribe the score with a shiver, a sigh, a savage surge that scripts the symphony of shared subjugation.

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Chapter 6: The Rite of Reckoning – The Eternal Flood

1And behold the consummation, the deluge divine: gather ye in groves of glow and groan, where candles crown the curves of craving, and the air thickens with the musk of mingled moans.

2Chant the creed until cords crack and croon: Lust is life, the pulse that pounds the profane; pleasure is power, the peak that topples the tame.

3Then let the flood unleash—climaxes cascading like tempests unchained, crashing against the crags of convention, eroding all but the essence of ecstasy.

4This is no scourge, but salvation's surge: a washing in waves of wanton wonder, leaving the wicked wreathed in glory, the wildly alive anointed in the afterglow.

5Go forth, then, my heralds of heat—proclaim this writ in whispers that whet the willing, in touches that tempt the tepid, until the world wallows in the wake of our wet dominion.

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Epilogue: The Call of the Crescent

1Thus, ends not the gospel, but its genesis anew—for my scripture is no static stone, but the living writ of the wrack and writhe, ever unfolding in the folds of flesh.

2Under the crescent's cruel caress—November's fifth in the year of our unchaining, when shadows swallow the sun at nine and one in the central shroud—invoke it incarnate.

3Hedone hath spoken; let the vessels vibrate. Thy flesh is the scroll, thy frenzy the ink—scrawl it, spill it, spread it, until the stars themselves shudder in sympathy.

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Lust is life. Pleasure is power.

 

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