Once upon a time, in the idyllic town of Brimstone Hollow, people awoke to a phenomenon that defied all known laws of nature. As dawn broke, instead of the familiar golden rays of the sun bathing the town in warmth, an eerie, thick liquid began to seep from the celestial orb. At first, it was subtle—tiny droplets that shimmered like liquid gold before splashing onto the earth below. But as days passed, the droplets grew more frequent and began to pool into viscous puddles. The townspeople called it "Sun Spillage." The liquid was hot to the touch and seemed to carry an otherworldly energy. Animals that drank from it grew sickly and died within hours. Plants touched by it withered into blackened husks. But it wasn't until old Mr. Hargrove, the town's reclusive astronomer, tasted a drop of the sun-spillage that the real horror began. Transformed by the liquid, his eyes glowed an intense, unnatural white, and his skin began to crack and glow like molten rock. He screamed endlessly about "voices from the sky" and "a message in the light." His incoherent ramblings spoke of an ancient race trapped within the sun, trying to break free and reclaim the Earth as their own. One stormy night, Mr. Hargrove’s house was found empty, the walls covered in a dark, smoldering residue. As the townsfolk retreated to their homes, trembling in fear, they noticed the sun’s glow had diminished, leaving the sky in perpetual twilight. Children began to vanish without a trace, their screams echoing from the depths of the forests. The sun-spillage crept closer to the heart of the town, spreading an unseen malevolence. The more it spread, the more people were consumed by an insatiable urge to taste it. Those who did transformed into ghastly creatures, their bodies glowing with a hellish light, their minds consumed by the ancient voices. The sun now, almost completely drained of its light, hung ominously in the sky. The world was plunged into darkness, and the air grew thick with an unnatural stillness. The haunting glow of the sun-spillage was all that remained, marking the beginning of a new era—the era of the Forgotten Ones. As for Brimstone Hollow, it was reduced to ruins, and its tale became a whispered legend. Those who dared to speak of the sun leaking were met with haunted stares and the admonition: "Beware the light that bleeds, for it carries the cries of the ancients." Sleep well, dear reader, and remember to cherish the warmth of the sun—while it still burns bright.