A rockstar by heart, a leviathan by curse. The first thing Dylan Fingers ever did was growl. No crying. No screaming. Just a sound that made the delivery room go quiet. His mother never forgot it. A few days later, an old spiritual man saw the child and asked one question. “Has he cried yet?” She shook her head. The old man stared at Dylan for a long time before speaking. “Every child enters this world carrying a gift. Yours arrived carrying a passenger. It will ask for him when he turns twenty-three.” His father packed his things before the week was over. His mother stayed. She decided that if her son had been chosen by darkness, she’d spend her life making sure he was surrounded by light. As Dylan grew older, music became the only place where his mind felt quiet. He poured every strange feeling into a guitar until the world started listening. By twenty-two, he had become one of the biggest rockstars alive. The prophecy slowly faded into an old family story. Then came his twenty-third birthday. The arena was full. The crowd knew every lyric. The clock kept moving. When midnight arrived, Dylan dropped to his knees. Hours later, he opened his eyes in a hospital bed with memories that didn’t belong to him. Rage. Fire. Hunger. They flooded his mind like they had been waiting behind a locked door. StarWalkar sensed the disturbance and followed it to the hospital. By the time he arrived, The Bully had already taken his first breath. Red skin stretched over burning veins. Every word carried enough force to crack concrete. Every scream left steel glowing hot. Their fight tore through the hospital while Dylan struggled somewhere deep inside his own mind. He still surfaces from time to time. Long enough to remember his mother’s face. Long enough to hate what he’s becoming. The rest of the world believes a famous musician lost himself to fame. His mother knows the truth. She heard it the day he entered the world. Her son never cried. He announced something else had arrived with him. Keep StarWalking. 💎