On a foreign world, long ago, at the middle of night. The suns shined despite the hour, two on either horizon, one red, one yellow. On this planet, they had a myth of a god who could derive power in one sun, and die in the other. The stories of that myth were hard to come by in their original form. Still, under both suns you could find them, moving for the delight and consumption of its people.
The suns rarely sunk beneath the horizon, and no matter what, for the charred dark surface, you could see one of them, jealously watching the other to make sure it made no move it could not imitate and try its own corona at. The people of this world thought that the suns hated one another, while getting their entire lives from them. Some worked in worship of them, against the other sun. At the point their society was at, the yellow sun was winning, although neither flourished.
Beneath each sun was a church. Majestic to many