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Opening
Red raced ahead of the rest — greedy, screaming, devouring the tones beside it.
Where Chaos once burned, now a crimson choir sings one single note. I go to still it before it scorches the palette to ash.
Ending
The crimson choked — I wove blue and green into it, and the choir broke apart into voices.
From the cooling flame rises Karmin, the Crimson Bulwark: "I was the loudest of all. Now I will be the shield at your back."
One color is calmed — but deceit is quieter than a scream, and it waits ahead.






