Project 9: Song of the Gentlekin

The Gentlekin do not shout. They do not march.
But when they gather, the forest changes.

Their presence softens the winds, brightens the dew, and weaves unseen harmonies through the canopies. Beneath their robes and mossy wrappings are sensors tuned to emotion, memory, and the pulse of old things still whispering in the dark.

They didn’t come to lead. They came to hold the balance.

And in this moment—among Twigfolk echoes and Emberhorn fire, beneath Lunari glow—their song rises.
It has no lyrics, but it’s unforgettable.
A lullaby for lost futures. A hymn for the fused.

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