Upon the celestial heights, a star dwelt in the company of its own-not by kinship, but by the cold law of the void.
Upon the betrayal, light was rendered an injury. The brightness did not fade; it was torn away, a jagged theft by those of the same fire.
Upon the descent, a night not of nature fell. The dragon-star did not meet the earth; it met the iron of man's sky. The collision was a shattering of essence-the ancient spirit forced into a cage of signals and glass.
Upon the starry night, a shimmer vanished. What emerged was a collide of two worlds: the ghost of a titan trapped within a digital mask. A remnant of a spark, now famished to ignite.
Upon the broken form, the fire burns without light. It does not seek to shine for the heavens. It seeks only the fuel of those who cast it down. The ignite has begun, and the debt shall be settled in ash.
~ Vanitas Denox