Prologue

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A spirit is haunting the galaxy. A spirit that baulks from the bright lights of the open markets and city lanes. A spirit that thrives in whispered words, and perpetual shadow. The spirit of freedom.

The Pax Regnum, the great empire of man stretches its arms out to every star in the galaxy. With its ruling Tetrarchy jealously controlling every bright spot in the night sky. From their strongholds the Gang of Four seek to excise this spirit from the stars. And yet it persists.

Emperor, Governor, Praetor and Priest. What facet of power has not sought to snuff out the very notion that this light exists or ever existed in the numberless worlds under Terran rule? In the hearts and memories of the races they have oppressed?

What a comfortable peace it is for the powerful. While the very whisper of 'worlds-independent' remains heretical. 

Cyfred Manifesto Chapter I 



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