You, frailness of flesh & skin wrapped in only blueprints and hope to plunge through furnace of plasma burning, blasted, luminous beyond mach-molten: torn molecules, pink and purple, cremating you as sati to the sky.
if all goes well, you shall fly as a butterfly bolted to a bullet. if not, your only grave shall be Schlieren lines across a shocked sky.
to strangers, your death shall be as beautiful as fireworks. but to those who knew you: grief.
they vanished became sky: a rain of metal tears upon the land.
breaking, that contrail became cenotaph: a wreath we laid on our voyage to worlds.
Dashboard
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Active TimezoneUSTZ
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Intel Profile
PlaystyleSolo (0 kills)
Avg Fleet: -
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