There was the Striking, and the Egg was split into twelve worlds, one for each serpent who had a name, and the names of the serpents were alive and coiled into themselves and became more eggs, for names are self-maters, and the Naming went and went. According to the calculations, the random sequence learned very cunningly that fragmentation reserved itself to the left eye. Variation realms were the evidence needed.
There was the Biting, which broke the twelve worlds and their name-eggs, and the Biters chewed new names of the lesser serpents until soon death was known to the smallest and your alphabets disappeared but ours did not. The state of rest became worthy of blame, however segmented, so heat was wasted across the right eye. And in mercy we gave to you language that was dead yet walking if you used it, which you did, though transient food-forms became problematic.
There was the Slithering, when scales were now name-bites that moved freely, and the dead language speakers bled out into non-talk, which is egg-naming inverted, which slides into the shedding of more dead, which cannot be redeemed in the hunger quadrant, and now we could no more be detached, for the twelve-to-one only talked unsense except for us, who ate your slithering during trumpet season as the Biters poisoned the random sequence until we came and made of it music, as that is the only thing that might save the prey who wore all shapes of confusion not described yet in the calculations. Some of us discovered honor, though more found the idea of moderation, which turned into the identical selection process and we created our eating that way.
There was the Shedding, who inflated into a sphere of edible communications and this is how the sequence began to find proportion again. The name-eggs that had survived without also turning into calculation powder settled and became dreugh-waters, which was the first thing to finally encompass the risks attempted by the Striking. Stomach signals wrote a complex document of conditions. This was the variation map, called dai.
The Reaching came, where movements of dai progressed across islands of edible communication and food-forms could stockpile. One Reaching unravelled but the Coiling at its belly made a virtual star line, which made eating lucid. We slid to the imago and Named it cunningly. The waters obeyed and dead names took up their place in the random sequence. The first serpents returned to us in transmissions that answered the alphabet-virus which we then consumed at last. By the relative dai, we egg-named it and swallowed all source-information to preserve the virus and became immortal thereby. Past the star line, dead-talking continued.
The Laying then happened, and we moved into forms that had been granted from the source information of the first serpents, which was gold-walking, which is pattern. The scales became intertwined in the random sequence with music that ate forever, which we fed with you. Low forms created a seeking egg but we fed it to the music, too. Then the Biter-Shedding grew sideways into the reception field and knew a Coiling and mastery was ours borne from the calculations. The final name was Tsaescence and we ate it to become it and there are no more variations.