Astral Archmage Returned From Exile

I have seen the First Light—I have walked the planes of Void.
I have witnessed a birth of Universe—to see it perish, I tried to avoid.
Everything is cloaked in consequence of time—like a porcelain doll—
I have seen the first kingdoms rise, just like I have seen them fall.

The banners of Light, of Hope and Order—a testament of Creator's will.
Always waving on Astral Plane’s border—a memory stuck on threadmill.
A dream of Universe covered in The Creator’s Light—the greatest bane,
like a moon illuminating the blackest night—a guardian of unseen pain.

My body no longer the same—I have seen too much,
I have fed on Astral Energy—none could endure such.
I have found a suitable host on this Physical Plane called Tyria,
a body of Baar Skaractus beaten only by time, not by the era.

My weapon a mere Creator's extension,
its core driven by his essence—his eternal reflection.
It was named after infinity, after the Astralaria,
it exists to grant peace to Universe—to make Utopia.

I have seen The Great Attractor—I have felt its true power.
What we fought eons ago, was but a fraction of its owner.
The destruction it brings is Universal—I can't let that be—
I have seen Admiral in my visions, she must be the key.