You call it a garden. You call it beauty. You call it love. But I remember what it truly is. The Celestial Engine was forged by the first stars — not for mortals, not for winged insects of copper and flesh, and certainly not for fallen dragons who have forgotten their place. You built your city atop stolen divinity. You let animals play among power meant to shape galaxies. You dare to bloom where only gods may burn. I am Solaryn — Flame of the First Dawn, Warden of the Heavenly Thrones. And I have come to reclaim what was never yours. When the sky fractures… when the petals turn to ash… when your floating paradise falls— You will understand. The stars do not forgive. They incinerate.
