Marked From Birth
sat across the intergalactic expanse, a silent, darkened mirror of what their own home had once been under the Curators' rule.
"We cannot remain in a closed loop," Audrey’s resonance echoed through the weave, manifesting as a ripple of gold across the violet-green skies of ten thousand worlds. "A fire that does not spread eventually consumes its own oxygen. We are the 'Carriers' of the spark, and there is an entire neighbor-galaxy that hasn't heard the 'Song of the Steam'."
Bab Populer