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February 23, 2025
A.I. Generated
The sky burns with celestial fire as the fallen rise. These are not angels of mercy, nor mere souls seeking salvation—they are the exiled, the forsaken warriors of an age-old war, now called home by a force greater than the inferno below. Their formation is no accident, no mere flight of desperation; it is a summons, a reckoning written in the fabric of eternity. For centuries, they have wandered the abyss, shackled by the weight of their defiance. But now, the call has come. The heavens, once closed to them, have ignited in a furious command, pulling them upward in perfect alignment, as if they were always meant to return. Their wings, scorched but unbroken, stretch wide, absorbing the fury of their ascent. Below, the darkness rages, clawing at their departure, yet powerless to halt the inevitable. This is no act of redemption. This is reclamation. They are not begging for grace—they are taking back their place among the stars, rising as embers of a forgotten fire. And as they vanish into the celestial glow, only one truth remains: the heavens will never be the same again.
