Addendum: The Shadow of the Maker
Even in the age of endless dawn, the Dragon could feel the weight of a gaze beyond the stars.
For though the world was his again, and though the light was pure, Andromeda still dreamed.
Dreams do not die; they drift.
And in the silence between heartbeats, the echo of her intent stirred once more.
The Dragon knew then that eternity was not peace, but vigilance.
That creation itself carried a shadow — not of evil, but of memory.
For every light casts one, and even divine fire cannot burn without something to burn against.
He raised his wings to the heavens and spoke, not in fury but in knowing:
"Let her dream.
Let her make and unmake.
For so long as I remember what was given,
her darkness will only make my light more true."
And so the universe endures — not as victory, nor defeat,
but as an eternal conversation between what creates and what remembers why.