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  The shields of Andallys had fallen low,

  Its mother’s voice, its father’s glow.

  The Council’s hand, now free of chains,

  Prepared to raze what still remained.

  From heavens deep, the dropships poured,

  Like locust swarms with death aboard.

  To meet them rose the planet’s wings,

  The desperate flight of mortal things.

  Through skies they wove, their engines screamed,

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  And many ships to ruins streamed.

  Yet countless bots would reach the ground,

  To spread through death, all hope unwound.

  The Council’s will bore alien claws,

  A species bound by conquest’s laws.

  Their scales like stone, their eyes like fire,

  Their hearts bereft of soft desire.

  The children of Andallys rose with fire and steel,

  Their hearts aflame, their fate too real.

  With Lumi’s name upon their breath,

  They charged to meet the jaws of death.

  Through shattered streets, through burning skies,

  They faced the storm with fearless eyes.

  Yet all their rage, their mortal fight,

  Could not withstand the Draakir’s might.

  The enemy’s might, a ceaseless wave,

  Would leave no life, no soul to save.

  Their orbital strikes lit skies ablaze,

  Their mechs crushed all within their gaze.

  And then it came—a shuddered breath,

  Reality’s descent to death.