Chapter 1: Morning
“I’m a little teapot short and spout. When I get all steamed up hear me. . . eh. . .hear me spout. . . was it spout or shout?” Lazalo pondered. He was stuck in an undecipherable loop that ravishly consumed the entirety of the outside world. A loop whose fundamental foundation was built upon the insatiable and all encompassing desire to defragment a memory forever cursed to remain in a fractured state due the infinitesimally small choi—
“Shout! It was shout!” He exclaimed both aloud and abruptly, forgetting the obvious danger that the infamous “Lake of Illusions” co