Once, eons ago. Humankind came to be. They survived. They grew. They prospered. They expanded into the outer strands of deep space. They reached for distant galaxies. They succeeded in doing so. They colonised new planets; wiped the native life out. Their greed knew no bounds. They destroyed. They conquered. They dominated. Then, it happened...

Their government changed over to a Monarchy, but not one that you or I know of today. Their First King. A man by the name of Umbrri Sympa. A tyrant, admittedly. He used his innate Fu’lakarr to terrorise the people and make them obey. All feared him, and rightly so. But, there was a humankind more feared than Umbrri. His wife, Meratildarr Caslon. Together, they ruled for 3900 years before being assassinated in their sleep. They sired 14 children. The eldest was conceived on the late King and Queen’s first coupling. Jyonarr Sympa was raised to the throne at the age of 3687. He, too, was assassinated just three days after his coronation. The eldest daughter was passed over in the choosing of the next King, because of laws that state that no female may take the throne, but may act as regent if necessary.

The male heirs fought for the chance to become King, even though the law states that the eldest inherits everything. The female children of the First King and Queen had no say in the matter, and were considered nothing more than pretty objects to be used and cast aside. They hated that, but couldn’t do anything about it. However, they still had the immortality blessing, since being of Royal blood grants that to them. There is also the small chance that a female may be granted the Royal Fu’lakarr, or what people nowadays call, abilities or powers.

The eldest male heir out of those remaining came out victorious against his brothers, and claimed the throne. He was different from his parents though. He did not terrorise the people, he was kind to them. He listened to their issues, their complaints, and their ideas for the future. The people loved him. Whenever the Royal Battalion of the Legion Vanguard (RBLV) passed through a colonised system, the citizens cheered his name. “Kronalyrr! Kronalyrr! Kronalyrr!” Then, when he heard that there was going to be an Intergalactic Monument built in his honour, he was so touched, he declared that for a week, every 4 months, there would be celebrations and partying. Drink was provided, food was brought in and the streets of the great city of Rebal were filled with people. It was a great time to be alive. However, it could not last.

“Sire! We need to get you out of this chaos! We’ve got assassins inbound!”

The shout cut through the foggy haze that clouded the King’s mind. King Kronalyrr Sympa, loved by the people, and respected by his foes, was not in good shape. It was the third celebratory week in the history of the Empire, and Kronalyrr was quite intoxicated. The King stumbled towards the door, to see who had called out for him, but the Royal Vanguard pulled him the opposite direction. “W-whe-where we go-go-going? Wh-what’s ha-happening?” He tried to say, but the only noise that came out was a little mumble.

“Oh, for fucks sakes! Give him here, I’ve got something that’ll help him get his shit together!” A slight hiss reverberated throughout the room, and the King was up on his feet in an instant. “Now, I know that I was drunk, but I was semi-aware of everything. Can someone please give me a status report? Just go over everything.” So the Vanguard soldier who’d originally shouted told him everything. How his palace was completely and utterly destroyed, killing every single person inside and in the surrounding area for miles in each direction. How they found the remains of his children in the nursery room of the family bunker. How the entire fleet in space was destroyed, without them ever knowing about it. How, even with the shitstorm going on right now, they might be able to save the Empire, because the Arkhiteckt had come up with contingency plans for events just like this. The Arkhiteckt just needed his signature and seal to put it into effect. The King looked around him desperately. He was looking for something that promised him that they’ll get out of this mess.

But only saw death, destruction, and extermination. He despaired. Why has it come to this? How? He was shaken out of his maudlin thoughts by a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. “Sire? Are you alright? The assassins are still coming, so we need to get you to the safe room. From there, we can activate the contingency plan. Come on sire. Let’s go.” He turned to see his childhood friend and advisor, Markrell. “It’s the end, isn’t it, Markrell? The Empire has fallen. I am sorry, my friend. I truly am.” Markrell looked deep into the King’s eyes, finding only sadness and resignation. “Aye, it is the end, but not forever. Come, let’s go put our plan into motion. To the safe room we go.” And so they marched.