Prologue
Conquest is a beautiful thing, which has ruled kings since the beginning of time. It has killed, murdered, executed, and, above all, brought victory to those who let it reign. By conquest, empires have risen and fallen in an unending cycle of war and power. In rage, in love, in sorrow, conquest has been the friend of its master, bringing dominion into the hands of those worthy of its majesty. Glorious is its fruit of riches and honor and authority. Conquest is king.
It was by victory through conquest that the planet Invictus had become Victa. Governed by the Reipublicae est homines Magnitudo, Victa was home to the strongest military force known to history𑁋an unstoppable entity made for war. Soldiers had banded so close as to be inseparable in battle with the scars branded on their flesh a mark of brotherhood. They were champions of their minds and souls. A people so able to control their every desire deserved command over weaker men, but with all power comes defiance.
Not two hundred fifty years passed before rebellion had threatened the social order of the Republic. In a moment in history, brother had turned on brother while terrorism transcended all ties. Victa had become a land where the very meaning of family was challenged, so distorted had the lines of morality become. Not even the rogue peoples, who inhabited Victa before the Republic came and had not conformed, were exempt from the violence that had sought to rule. They had fallen into factions, battling over tribal disputes. Such was the way of those without law, but rule would come. Like the glow of angels, it would shine on all the peoples of Victa; however, it would not shine before the darkness. First, the shadows of a civilization lost would destroy Victa itself.
