The Anchor of the Iron Lotus burned out in the frozen mud of the Burrow, a draconic ghost caught between synthetic steel and ancient hate. They traded their humanity for the cold superiority of the grid, refusing to yield even as the hunters’ salt-shot silenced their final, infernal defiance. Neo-Kowloon’s standard baseline claimed its most volatile variable, leaving behind only a crater of glass and a legacy of unyielding malice.