From the heart of a collapsing world, a silhouette unfurls — neither angel nor ghost, but a memory of light trying to remember itself. Wings born from chaos cut through the smoke, scattering fragments of night across a wounded sky. Below, a broken city listens, waiting for the moment when darkness softens and the first trembling spark dares to rise. This is the breath between endings and beginnings — where destruction whispers of rebirth, and even shadows learn to glow.
