Starborn, that's my name, it’s a battlecry to my soldiers, a prayer to the believers and a curse to my enemies, to which there are many. On a billion lips that draw breath. In taverns across the spiral arm in every dark shadow, tales of me echo. Gabriel Starborn. Name's synonymous with legend now, etched into the metal bones of the Celestial Hegemony. It's a title I never asked for but was thrust upon me, as cold and hard as the iron bars of my first cage. But here’s the raw, bleeding truth: I didn’t want any of this. I was just one name, a name whispered in a cacophony of the Hegemonies trillions. From its towering spires and dirt-encrusted alleys of the megacities to the despot colony worlds of the outer rim.  I was Nobody, but the Flow called, and stupid me. Well, I just had to answer, didn’t I.  My whole existence was just a desperate lunge at life, a way out of the grinding gears of fate. I never intended to become a symbol. But the universe doesn’t ask your intent. It just takes what it wants, and leaves the rest. This isn't a hero's tale. No, this is grit and blood, love and loss, pain and, yes, redemption. But not the kind they sing about. The kind that scars you, changes you, remakes you. If you're here for pretty tales of valor, for songs of a hero's ascent, turn away. This is no song. This is a scream, a battle cry, a whispered prayer before the storm. My story isn’t just of highs and glory, but of lows, of the dark places we find ourselves in, and the even darker places we're capable of going. So if you've the guts, come. Walk with me through the fire and the void, through love and betrayal, honor and disgrace. This is the real Celestial Hegemony. This is my story. The one only I can tell. Buckle up. This ride? It’s going to burn.