To those intrepid practitioners who dared to obtain our previous “Magnum Opus” of Left-Handed decree—and even to those who have merely heard whispers of its infamy—we say this without embellishment or artifice: its reputation is not exaggerated. Indeed, it remains our most widely-circulated and discussed publication, and for good reason. Many who delved into its pages thought they had encountered true Darkness—thought they had reached the limits of arcane terror and spiritual peril.
 
They were mistaken.
 
What our other Left-handed works presented, regardless of sheer notoriety, was not the abyss itself, but merely the outer mist that rises from its threshold. That tome, formidable as it was, now seems but a shadow when measured against what we are about to unveil.
 
With solemnity and no small measure of apprehension, we now present our latest release: a work that transcends all our previous ventures into the sinister and sublime: Liber Serpentarium Pneumatikon (Ex Monumentis Vetustioribus Repertis in Specu Prope Ierusalem).
 
This volume does not merely exceed the darkness—it embodies it. It is not just dangerous—it is unclean in the most sacred and profane sense. It has been drawn from a set of manuscripts so obscure and so virulently charged that even seasoned adepts of the Left-Hand Path will find themselves pausing, breath caught in awe or in dread.
 
What lies within these pages was not composed—it was unearthed.
 
We translated these writings not as scholars, but as mouthpieces, assembling what lies before you as clearly and useably as possible. The process was not easy. Even with the spiritual fortitude we have cultivated over long years—fortitude more than sufficient to withstand most forces—we found ourselves…affected. This was not a matter of fear or weakness. It was something far more visceral. More ancient. Something…wrong.
 
Only a handful of experiences in our long journey have ever induced that creeping malaise, that whispering sickness of soul. Let us be clear: The Black Book of Bel-El-Hul did not even qualify.
 
This new volume centres upon a specific, monstrous taxonomy of entities. Not demons, not in the traditional infernal sense. No. These are something older. Something colder. They are referred to as “serpents,” but do not be misled by the familiarity of the word. These are Unmakers. Beings of rupture and reversal. Things that do not corrupt what exists, but unravel existence itself. They owe allegiance to no heaven, and bow to no hell. They are unbound by the hierarchies of demon, angel, or god. They are beyond exorcism. Beyond naming. And yet…they have been named.
 
Within these pages, you shall find the transcribed and annotated accounts of the original chronicler—whose fate, we might add, remains unknown. You will discover the proper Names, the dread Seals, the Stations, and the Houses of these serpents of uncreation. Every seal has been carefully reproduced. Every word considered, though we dare not say “tamed.”
 
We have taken care to include commentary and notes where we deemed it necessary. This is not merely a book—it is a relic of something buried, something that perhaps should have remained so.
To the earnest seeker of Dark Illumination, this volume is indispensable. But let none misunderstand: this is no idle curiosity. It is no ornament for the shelf of the occult enthusiast. This tome is alive. It breathes. It sees.
 
And once its cover is opened, it watches you.
 
Even a single copy, once touched and read, marks the reader. Attention—benefic or baneful—will come. You may find yourself noticed by forces you did not know how to name before. And you may find that you now possess names… that will either elevate you or strike you down.
 
And let it be stated clearly—at the time of our writing this, we believe this may very well be the most dangerous book we have ever made available to the public. Not for its length, nor its ornamentation, nor even for its language, but for the raw potency and unflinching severity of its contents. It does not flatter. It does not seduce. It strikes. The names within are not hollow. The seals are not decorative. The consequences are not theoretical.
 
We are well aware that our words will fall upon more than a few deaf ears. There will always be those who treat such warnings as mere flavor text—edgelord posturing, grim aesthetic, or marketing flair. And to those we say: believe what you will. Laugh, if you must. But posterity will remember that we did warn you.
 
This book is not a toy. It is not a prop. It is not a curio to impress your friends. It is dangerous. Deeply so. On both a spiritual and mundane level. Even those who seek to merely collect this tome—to shelve it among other grim and curious volumes—ought to know: the book may tolerate that intention for a time. But eventually, it will exert its own.
 
You will find no disclaimers of liability here. We take no responsibility for what you choose to do with this book, nor for what this book may choose to do with you. We proceed on the assumption that you are of sound and lucid mind—capable of choice, and consequence. And if you are not, then you have no business whatsoever practicing the Occult Arts, let alone engaging with the mysteries contained herein.
 
You have been warned.
 
This is the first of several volumes we intend to make available concerning these serpents of uncreation.
 
What you now hold is the gateway—the threshold of a deeper descent. The knowledge herein is complete yet incomplete, for to unveil the totality of what was transcribed in a single tome would be an affront not only to the human mind, but to the unseen order that keeps the veil intact. Each subsequent volume shall delve further into their mysteries: their workings, their rites, their adversarial bonds, their awakening signs, and the signs of those they have already marked.
 
With each book, the circle will widen. The thread will unravel further. And with each new name revealed, the barrier between what is and what should not be, will wear thinner. This first volume serves as a threshold.
 
This volume shall be made available in both digital and physical formats—not out of convenience, but by calculated design. No pact is required to obtain it. No ritual of binding, no formal oath. But let that not deceive you into believing it is harmless and that you can do as you wish with it.
 
The very absence of a binding pact is the snare.
 
Should you approach these pages lightly, or misuse their contents—whether in ignorance, distribution or arrogance—you shall have, by your own hand, tied the noose around your own neck. The serpents recorded herein do not require your blood to answer. They require only your attention. A single careless utterance or glance, a seal scrawled in idle curiosity, a mockery made under the illusion of safety—these are enough to stir the watchers.
 
You will not be warned twice. To open this book is to assume full responsibility for what follows.