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THERE IT STOOD: AN OPEN GATE. 🎴♠️
What stood at the edge was no doorway
to light, split wide to beckon the ash-born
home to what the fire regurgitated.

We seek the kindled infernos who torch through its fount: AUNCLES (90–99) & CHILDREN (00–06). Those whose grit breaks louder than any legacy ever could, eyes scorched open by the heat of too many returns, and follow the rites and rules it sets, mark your presence through: @IgnisFamiliaBot.

I come not in search of flame, but as what remains when flame has passed. I am  (Name & @Username) + (Muse Name & Line) shaped where fire once collapsed, made of memory, marrow, and what heat refused to kill. I speak not to be welcomed, but to echo in the halls that once held silence.

The crossing bore no hint of arrival. The fire waned, then hissed, as if something below knew it too. Recognition slid over on the tongue, bitter and dry. They stepped through. Together. Into each other.
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Oh when the blues go marching in oh when the blues go marching in