They called it the Scarring. Random patterns would appear on the skin like burns all in different shades, sizes and color. They identified each color meant a different thing about how strong and what you were. They either made you or destroyed you. It became our way of assigning power to citizens, but then came the sickness, they called the Golden Skin, after our sun was 'changed' and the Golden Hour lasted longer than normal. You'd first shimmer in the light, become so transparent you'd see your insides, then your skin would regrow golden and hard. When your irises would gain a violet hue you'd be in transition, then you'd be gone. An animal, a beast hoping to take over the flesh of a more powerful body, all you become was a flesh hungry monster. No name, no thoughts, no wants or dreams, just lost. This was life now and when Golden hour hits, the sun is no longer your friend, but the thing waiting to crawl under your skin and eat you from the inside out.