The seasons of the Atlas of Celestials did not turn with the decay of leaves, but with the deepening of the golden light that bathed the mountain.
Years had flowed like liquid starlight since Aegis had first struck a spark in his hearth.
In that time, his influence had reshaped the Ninth Sector into a garden of vibrant, self-sustaining realities. But the greatest transformation was not in the stars; it was in the two figures who now stood taller than their father.
Caelum had grown into a man of quiet, staggering intensity. While his sister Lyra moved with the fluid grace of a cosmic melody, Caelum possessed the tectonic stability of the mountains. His hair, once dark and unruly, now fell in a neat cascade of obsidian, and his eyes held the deep, reflective stillness of a primordial sea.
He had spent his youth traversing the Garden of Accelerated Dawn, learning to build civilizations from the discard piles of the gods.
