A flame as is cast, stirring with energies unbeknown to many.
Held gently in one open palm, it flickers with colors the world has no name for—violet, void-black, and glints of emberlight that shimmer like memory. Its glow is quiet, yet impossibly deep, as though drawn from wells far beneath the known world. The one who holds it stands composed, his gaze calm, his form perfectly still—an anchor amidst cosmic unrest.

Behind him, half-shrouded in silence and shadow, looms something larger… not just in shape, but in presence. A silhouette, warped and immense, echoes his form—but stretched by power, loss, and the weight of what he truly is. The watcher may wonder: is this a reflection, or a caged self waiting to emerge?

This image is no declaration. It is a warning in quiet flame, a portrait of the moment before truth is revealed. The being within this form is not bound by what the eye sees. He is balance held in breath, corruption cloaked in stillness, and fire that remembers its purpose.

To gaze upon him is to understand—this is not a man.
This is a vessel.
And the flame is waking.

Nexus Belongs to myself.

The amazing artist is Snö Floof over on Twitter/X