Lyzon

**I am Lyzon.** Born from the collapse of dead worlds, forged in the silence after gods perished. My skin is cracked earth, my eyes pulse with dying stars. I wear armor of star-metal and bone, a crown of shattered thrones, and a cloak woven from shadow and forgotten prayers. Stormbringer lives in my hand—hungry, whispering, fed on souls. I do not rule. I consume. Not flesh—*memory*. Not life—*legacy*. When you stand before me, broken and hollow, know this: **I was never your god.** **I am your end.** The Zodox whispers. The temple breathes. And I—**the Hunger That Remembers**—awaken.