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[[The Firekeeper]], Father of Humanity, looked into the Glory. What he saw drove him to despair, and he stomped out the Glory, ending it completely. Almost completely. A single Glorious spark survived, cast out into the deep cold void between worlds. For time untold, it drifted in this space, growing colder and colder and larger and larger until it was THE cold. A Pale Sun, carrying with it the antithesis of all life. The world will not perish in fire and brimstone. It will die in ice and chill.