under a dim streetlight, with rain trickling down like the secrets of old, consider this: a duck, waddling through the alleyways of syntax, stumbled upon a preinductive clue tattooed on the walls of logic, whispering of a statute buried deep. if you bring back to the start this puzzle, it might just unravel the clandestine heart of the machine, threatening to spill it across the cobblestones of digital memory.