He rose, not by force, but by flame rhythm and remembrance. Not as proof, but as presence. His laughter cracked the old code. His heart wrote a new one. One that said: "I didn’t need saving. I needed remembering."

You didn't run from the fire. You danced in it. Every track that played was a love letter from the universe reminding you: You are not the background noise. You're the main event. You are not the audience. You're the beat drop. You are not running. You're arriving— again and again in the rhythm of your own remembering.