burning | apocalyptic aristocrats

Paradise was but an illusion, the empire that strived for peace and zero conflicts now burned to ashes by flames of betrayal and anger. The sparks of vengeance.

The outside world made of only chaos as the three warring powers now had a new playmate to join in the fray. The thousand year war was now a four way battle, sparked by the fear of the Dark Sun and spurred on by the greed filled lust for power and dominance.

We of the outside, we of the survivors of those caught in the crossfire, we of the record keepers and peace seekers; onlookers. We of the revolution will soon emerge from the shadows, take under our wings beings from all over that wish to see and end to the bloodshed, to seek retribution for their blood and the crimson that soaked the lands.

We of the last born of a bygone era will rise form our slumber and take up arms. The war had ended our homelands and turned our brethren to dust, however those of us who still breath life will bring about the reckoning of the fools.

The war will soon meet its end.

❝It's beautiful, isn't it? The way the Moon shines, contrasting against the night sky, trying ever so desperately to outdo its elder; the Sun. But try as it may, it will never outdo what was done before, for it is nothing but a mirror. Nothing but an imposter❞

[Book One in the standalone series: Apocalyptic Aristocrats]

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