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The Blue Mountains of Jamaica shimmered in the early morning mist, their peaks vanishing into clouds like ancient guardians keeping watch. Long before Columbus claimed discovery, before European ships scarred the Caribbean Sea, these mountains guarded a secret that the world had forgotten: Jamaica was the true Garden of Eden. In a cave hidden beneath cascading waterfalls, where sunlight fractured into rainbows against moss-slick walls, Anansi the Spider-Trickster worked his most elaborate deception. His eight legs moved with hypnotic precision, spinning silk that glistened with unnatural gold. Not the simple webs of hunting spiders, but intricate patterns that mimicked the very fabric of reality. ""They forgot,"" Anansi chuckled, his voice a blend of honey and venom. ""How easily humans forget what they once knew to be true."" The trickster-god had been patient. While the world's religions placed Eden in distant Mesopotamia, while scholars argued over lost rivers and symbolic trees, Anansi had been here, weaving his masterpiece. His silk strands stretched beyond the physical-into minds, into dreams, into the stories people told themselves about who they were and where they came from. ""The perfect prison has no walls,"" he murmured, golden eyes glinting in the darkness. ""The perfect chains are the ones you cannot see."" Outside, Jamaica pulsed with life. Markets bustled in Kingston, fishermen cast nets into turquoise waters, and Unity Church steeples punctuated every hillside village. Each steeple housed a bell that rang at precise intervals, each ring reinforcing Anansi's hypnotic control. The people moved through their days believing they were free, never noticing the silken threads that guided their choices, their thoughts, their very understanding of the world. But some remembered. In remote mountain strongholds, descendants of Maroon warriors kept ancient wisdom alive, their drums speaking a language Anansi couldn't silence. In secluded valleys, Rastafari elders passed down knowledge through sacred smoke and chants, seeing through Anansi's illusions while others dismissed them as dreamers. And in a small village where the mountains met the sea, a boy named Jahson Reid was about to discover his connection to a heritage older than the spider's web...

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