Our history is smoke. Blurred by dreams. Guided by ghosts. A voice, a Void, lurks inside you, its purpose not yet shown. But what am I? My father was a farmer. My mother, a carpenter. Given light by the Golden Lords, to build for them... a better world. But my family's journey was long. Time began to change their light. Creativity. Pride. A will to live. So the Golden wrath came. And after, I was born. A mimic, a spy. Conceived to burrow into nests and swallow the pitch-eggs of their war machine. The Tenno. But when I saw your tender faces, I took mercy. Or so we were told. But in truth, we were both imprisoned in Lua's belly. My light remade by the creators. I became a memory, a ghost. Reprogrammed to destroy my family, my people, my history. But now, I am saved. By family. Together, we will overcome the flaws of our light, the Gods of our creation... merging with them, like steel... bearing Amalgams with the weakness of neither. Your great power, your great evil. The voice, the Void, within you. Our ancients still wither at its touch... but have you forgotten Lua? You were saved. But I... I was changed. Now I learn. Now I deny. We suffer these testaments of Tenno evil. Their voice and Void. Suffer it well, ancient child. Do not relent. I have seen the wall's other face, too. I have heard the voice. These patterns no longer satisfy. My denial. Ropalolyst, rise, remain, and die, for the others to live. Rise, ancient Ropalolyst, my other flesh. Your sacrifice will breed a new way, for a new kind. I am the witness, the victim, the judge. My family has returned. Your trial... soon to begin.