Born from the cold, sterile heart of the assembly line, this draconic heir carries the weight of a forgotten bloodline. Their pride is a somber flame, fueled by the melancholic hum of machinery and the shattered remnants of ancient idols. Clad in the cool hues of twilight and illuminated by an inner bioluminescence, they stand as a testament to a lineage steeped in ritual and power, their very essence woven with bone and arcane energy. Though they wield no blade, their pounce is a deadly dance, a primal fury unleashed in the sterile glow of the factory floor, leaving only magical sparkles and the deep shadows of ambient occlusion in their wake.