The light that removes color
Giedi Prime's sun does something no other sun does: it takes the color out. Under the black sun the world renders in absolute values — ink, ash, and glare — and this palette obeys: hard monochrome, harsh whites against neutral blacks, keywords landing by sheer weight, syntax separated by lightness alone. Monochrome as spectacle. Monochrome as domination.
Four things survive the light: coolant steel-blue on functions: the only thing on this world that runs cold. ember on errors and exceptions: furnace fires, never banked. sisterhoodViolet: the Sisterhood's thread runs through even this bloodline; in fact, holds a special interest to it. And a whisper of oxide: green as this world knows it, the patina on old metal.