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Track 2 — The Black Lantern Guild — “Those Who Never Burned” You say the sky is wide. We’ve only seen it framed between buildings designed to narrow what we feel. You say we’re free. We inherited the ceiling before we learned the word for height. Every hallway bends on purpose. Every square discourages pause. Every wall is just curved enough to keep us moving. We didn’t choose this quiet. We were born inside it. We learned to walk where the lines were painted. Learned to speak where the bells allowed. No one told us to kneel. You removed the throne. But you left the architecture of restraint. We inherited the ceiling. You call it structure. You call it safety. You call it design. We call it low. We grew up in rooms where nothing echoes. Where sound dies politely before it can become a crowd. We never saw fire in the sky. Never watched gods collapse. Never felt the heat you still carry in your hands. All we know is this thinness. This careful world that never breaks. You say, “Be grateful. It holds.” We say, “Why does it feel like it’s holding us?” We inherited the ceiling like it was mercy. Inherited the narrowed streets, the softened edges, the lowered voices. You ended chaos. Then you ended altitude. You tell us height is dangerous. We tell you breathing shallow isn’t living. We inherited the ceiling. We inherited the hush. We inherited the shape of a world afraid of its own pulse. We don’t want collapse. We want space. Not a crown. Not a god. Just room for something to rise without apology.