The muns don't have room for it all, they're messing with something too big for them. Look how often they lose control of what they're doing, for fuck's sake. So what do they do? What else could they do? They make rooms. Rooms and rooms and rooms within rooms. Stretching on and on. No glass houses, only dark endless hallways. We're all Echoes, there's sure as hell a Narcissus, but it's more than that. The coin has two sides.
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We are all Asterion.