[Bologna Prime]

The wheel in the sky turns on.

Though it could be delayed, none so easily averted.

A momentum spurred over generations presses itself forward.

Winter is here, as it was then. Its solemn weight upon the land in parallel to that of anguished histories trailing in the wake of wings resolute. Frigid is the air, and fraught with the tension of a future waiting to break through.

The restitution of something withheld from the miraculous majesty of Meranthe and its native peoples. The release from a curse which has made wrath and waste out of gifts taken from what proper place would grant its shape. The resolution of a paradox wrought where a grand sacrifice was made incomplete millenia ago. Upon Pavonis, over which stars will soon align once more. On to its summit, a host to ascend once more with all the power and promise to see through changes on a scale divine. So it goes:

To lay to rest that tired image of One.

To rectify the err in Giantkind's emergence.

The ticking of a hand sounds sharp and clear.
Marching forward, closer to midnight.

To brighten and embolden the colors of Many.

To realize a potential denied to all those blessed.

The ticking of a hand sounds sharp and clear.
Marching forward, closer to a new day.


Wednesday, March 25th.
5:30 PM, EST