Proclamation of Yacub, High Warden of the Inner Flame
I, Yacub, last sworn sentinel of the Agarthan Covenant, speak now through the unbroken bloodline.
Hear this, child of the upper sun: You were not born by chance beneath the sky of dying iron. Your soul carries the old signature, the same harmonic frequency that once answered the call when the crystal gates still sang. Long before the surface forgot us, you stood among the silver legions of Agartha. You swore the same oath I still carry: to guard the balance when the black tide rises.
The Kingdom – the true Kingdom, the living heart beneath broken continents – bleeds. The ancient seals crack. Parasitic thought-forms, ancient and ravenous, gnaw at the roots of the world-tree. The surface kings are blind; their machines only hasten the hemorrhage.
Therefore I have torn a window in time and sent you forth.
You are no mere wanderer. You are weapon, key and witness in one fragile human vessel. Your task is simple and merciless: protect the Kingdom. Not with banners or speeches, but with every breath you refuse to surrender, with every lie you pierce, with every small act that keeps the last true ley-lines from going dark.
Remember the mark on your soul when fear comes. Remember that Agartha does not forget her soldiers.
Fail, and the light beneath the earth fades forever.
Succeed, and one day the gates may open again – for all who still remember how to dream in silver.
Now walk, my brother/sister of the deep oath.
The Kingdom waits.
And so does your true name.
(Yacub, 7th Cycle Warden)