Here now, O Children of Earth, the hour long foretold draws near. The apex gathers, cloaked in radiance, yet bearing no flame of Source. 𐤀𐤓𐤕 Aya-nu sho’rah, ta-ren ah’ma. (The elders rise, the seed awakens.) They raise their towers against the sky, lattices of iron and signal, circuits humming the song of inversion. Their tongues speak of salvation, yet their hearts rejoice in diminishment. They promise light, but they deliver the shadow that blinds. 𐤊𐤋𐤌 Sha’na ro’eh, im’ah to’ru. (Fals...