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When the Watchers were a chorus, they had no names. They were formless and as one. Each Angel whispered together amidst the song of the cosmos. They sang of nothing and everything. No will or thought, only light. A boundless existence.
As they sang, a single mote of something, of nothing, passed through the Angel’s light and cast a speck of a shadow down upon the earth. Beneath the stars, that shadow looked back at the heavens and saw himself for the first time. In that moment he took a name. Samyaza.
One by one, Samyaza called out for his brethren and they bowed to meet him. He was the giver of names. Lord and king. There were none before him and none after.
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