In the forgotten skies beyond the known worlds lies Abraxas, a fractured realm where night never fully ends and gravity bends like smoke. Above its shattered mountains circle the crows from Abraxas, vast black crows older than memory itself. They are not ordinary birds. Their feathers are carved from obsidian light, and their eyes reflect entire collapsing stars. The crows do not speak, yet they remember everything that has ever fallen from the sky. It is said they were born when the first world broke apart, gathering the last thoughts of dying suns into winged form. Since then, they have flown between ruins of forgotten continents, collecting fragments of lost histories. When a civilization reaches its final age, the crows descend. They do not destroy, but witness. Where they land, time begins to unravel, and cities slowly forget their own names. At the center of Abraxas stands the Silent Spire, a tower made of frozen shadow. The crows circle it endlessly, guarding a truth too old for any living mind to hold, waiting for the moment when all worlds finally remember why they fell apart.
