"The slave of Night and Chaos, A spoke in the wheel of time.
Scourge of Heaven, a prince cast down, Crowned in ash, condemned by design."

In the shadow of Heaven’s ruin, something stirs.

He was not merely born. He was hunted. A soul carved by exile and sorrow, carried across wilderness and war. Uriel walks the earth — not as an angel, but as flesh. As witness to betrayals buried in prophecy. As voice against the myths that bind men in chains.
But truth is not given. It is taken. Carved from pain, carried through death, carried further still. And Uriel will carve his path — through blood, through loss, through choices no prophecy could foresee.

The war never ended. It only changed names. The Ballad continues.