The First to Fly

(for the SparkLab Seniors)

They came in with sparks in their eyes and wild hearts,
With pockets full of fandoms and hands made for parts.
One lit up the room with a cube from the screen
Arcane’s Hextech, reborn in LEDs’ gleam.
Forty-nine pieces, tested and tuned,
Filed, reprinted, adjusted, and boomed.
Made from scratch, again and again,
A masterpiece forged in sweat and spin.

The other? A maker, a chaos-born flame,
Who carved out his story through every game.
He molded Gongi with Squid Game precision,
Then filmed in green-screen with ruthless ambition.
Each piece reworked with stubborn delight
No shortcuts, no boredom, just getting it right.

They’ve stayed late, came early, claimed every tool,
Blew past the limits and rewrote the rules.
Not just seniors...they’re finishers. Pioneers.
The first to earn cords and bring all the cheers.
They’re proof that this dream we built out of wire
Can light up a future. Can carry the fire.

So I’ll play my Hawk Whistle, loud, cracked with pride,
When they cross that stage, with the world open wide.
And I’ll cry—yes, I’ll cry—as they soar from the nest…
Because the first to fly always burn brightest