There was an ethereal beauty to the sunlight, as if a layer of tinted filtering had been added in the sky. Everything was consumed in its golden rays. Endless azure skies faded to honeyed tones of oranges and reds. It was beautiful. Soothing.

It was akin to an enchantment, a fiery blessing from the divine themselves. A beacon of hope beneath a false sky. A reminder that dawn springs anew. Yet, dangerous they could be. A constant sweltering flame ready to burst at any moment. A pressure that could release the grace of a thousand suns.

It was a scale that hung in the balance. One ounce of pressure, and it would tilt. And with that tilt, would come the death of many. That is the story that Alhaitham recited in his mind.

He didn’t truly know what to expect. Was this meeting a blessing, or a curse? Fatui corpses, strewn amidst the golden sands by the mile. Crimson and gold were never two colours that went together, or so he thought. Yet, there was a morbid sense of beauty to the scene before him.

Wings forged in heaven’s fire themselves dripped with that metallic crimson, each droplet in the sand akin to rain upon a lake. Markings that glowed like a freshly lit brazier amidst the bricks of a colosseum. Was he standing before an angel, or a devil?

Alhaitham’s mind was not his own as he fell to his knees, his gaze locked onto the holy fire before him. The figure teemed with heavenly authority, and he couldn’t help but show respect. A respect that he had shown to none before. He had seen the Dendro Archon herself, and still never showed this much respect. Perhaps he was scared, or perhaps he was smitten.

“What are you…?” He’d question, his hand quivering around the hilt of his sword.

And that was when he realised, all that he had seen, all that he had witnessed, it was the - “Glory of a thousand Suns…”