In a prison made of stars, we are engraved with the same genetic code, but it points to the two poles of fate.
He is the sharpest blade in the Federation, and I am the most ethereal string in the shadows.
Three years ago, an explosion annihilated a starship, locking three hundred dead souls and a truth deep in the silent cemetery. Nowadays, conspiracies are awakening like vines twining around ancient ruins, the Eye of the Void is staring in the dark, and we - the twin star skeletons designed as "keys" - are forced to get closer again.
Every confrontation is the peeling off of memory fragments; every side by side is the resonance echo deep in the genes. They erase the past in our minds, but they cannot erase the unfinished agreement beside the bonfire of the Wild Star; they implant the chains of mutual checks and balances into the blood, but they cannot count the hands that are instinctively stretched out in desperate situations.
When the Twilight of the Gods lights up the world-destroying light at the end of the star map, we are faced with the final choice: should we be pawns on other people's chessboards, or should we use the resonant fire of the twin stars to rewrite the ending?
Walk on the edge of betrayal and trust, embrace each other on the edge of destruction and rebirth. The galaxy proves that some bonds are destined from the first line of genetic code; and some choices can carve out a way out of the given destruction, just to hold your hand again.
"They wanted to mold us into weapons, but we used the same bones and learned to write poetry."
Intention:,