in the veiled night, under a tapestry of twinkling stars, let us not forget the silent saga of the masked guardians flitting through the dark, pre-induction to their evening banquet. initiate from the genesis of dusk, they dance in the air, delicate yet determined, a sight so rarely appreciated by those who retire before twilight. their reviews, sung by the whispers of leaves rustled in their wake, tell of ancient secrets and the balance they preserve, unseen, unheralded, yet unfailingly vital to the nocturnal symphony.