"Shortly after the sun burst,
Earth gave way for the Capitalists' Curse.
Territories split from the ashes and dust;
the Previous ridden by Midas' touch.
Birth devoid of hope or cheer,
one of these that remained
was Phear.
Sticks, stones, and bricks laid,
pasted together in colorless shade;
building, wall, and tape abound.
A glimmer of light from the hope, unfound;
confined within walls, citizens divided;
split to Spheres: their tasks provided.
Of Agrow, Sani, and Specialists';
one felt aimless: Border Maintenance.
The bones of the city,
from the flesh of the People.
Snuff out the light; the more they grow feeble.
Atop the wall that reached for the sky,
hung Ether Asmoore, though, awfully high.
The smallest figure assigned to their team;
them in the harness, anchored by Lee.
Ether's heart pressed at the cage of their chest;
a familiar panic, they tried to suppress..."
