Cosmic clock grinds.

Forward. Ever forward, never back.

New legends rise for the age; through dire trials and struggle.

Cosmic clock grinds.

Grinds the bones of those who were and would be.

Who would be the legends.

Their lives ordinary, yet called to greater. Unassuming, they never asked for this. Those who ask are not worthy.

Cosmic clock grinds; and hands move.

Benediction of time upon them shall be; for legends never die.

Even when their cries are silent and their bones ground to dust.

Legends remain.