Born where stars in silence fell,
From heaven's height to shadow's well.
A child of dusk, not day or night,
Shall walk in flame yet shun the light.
Blood of void and soul of sea,
He bears the mark none else shall see.
With breath of ash and bones unchained,
He binds the storm that can't be tamed.
When corpses climb and rivers burn,
And thrones of jade to salt shall turn—
He'll rise with tide beneath his tread,
Half among the living... half the dead.
Three choices carved in fate's cold skin:
To rule, to break, or to begin.
But should he choose what none have dared,
The world shall end... and be repaired.