There is fire beneath me, and I am new. No such flame has burned before in this world, and never shall I burn again. I leap, blinding sharp, though all the air that is, screaming the last sound I shall ever know. I do not die, but all I was is consumed in what I am.

Farther than any has reached, I now tread. There is no one to hear the last of my scream. I am an eye, a fist, a heart forged here and now. No voice.

The world is aflame
O lord, shower your benediction
Through whatever path it may be delivered, send it that way.

And it is gone.

As few have done, I have left that stone that bore me and stepped out.

Not alone. I burn.

Some new thing, with no need for like companionship, no need for familiarity, no need to speak. A body of blood and bone consumed, one of metal born. I drop the dead stones that pushed me up, shedding the last skin I shall ever know. They burn as they fall. It is fitting.

I see the stars, I smell their breath. I hear their voices. No one touches me.

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