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Description
"Arise."

Her father's words echoed through the training sessions, amidst the scorching suns of Viterna branding her back. Her legs quivered like reeds in the wind, bruises darkening with each blow. She could not falter, not her, the consul's daughter.
The Atrei legions readied themselves to march, pushing Eleutea's borders into the next realm. They craved a leader. She would stride forth and conquer. For Viterna, for the Atrei.
She would embody greatness, or she would be naught.

"Arise."

Monstrosities... only monstrosities awaited beyond Eleutea. Somnoven, "The Annihilator," had scythed down her legionnaires like unwanted weeds. Immortality snatched away, she now stood defiant before Madoris. She could not succumb, not when her men had laid down their lives. She would fight and perish, until the end.

"Arise."

Three triumphs more, three worlds ablaze and desolated. Madoris endeavored to mend her spirit, to rise from her bed, but her body refused to yield.
Three worlds.
How many proud leaders? How many valiant warriors? How many fathers, preachers, mothers, sons, and lovers? How many had she slain? How many...?

"Arise."

Blind to the world, the young Tshaak persisted, undeterred. Thrust after thrust, failure after failure, the lad's strength waned.
Eventually, she would claim his life, for it was her duty. After ravaging five worlds, extinguishing all life, she could not afford mercy for the boy...
Yet, a fragment of Madoris held its breath whenever the Tshaak raised his mud-streaked face and stood tall, resolute in his fight.

"Arise, Nadrazi, bring this to an end."

Description
"Arise."

Her father's words echoed through the training sessions, amidst the scorching suns of Viterna branding her back. Her legs quivered like reeds in the wind, bruises darkening with each blow. She could not falter, not her, the consul's daughter.
The Atrei legions readied themselves to march, pushing Eleutea's borders into the next realm. They craved a leader. She would stride forth and conquer. For Viterna, for the Atrei.
She would embody greatness, or she would be naught.

"Arise."

Monstrosities... only monstrosities awaited beyond Eleutea. Somnoven, "The Annihilator," had scythed down her legionnaires like unwanted weeds. Immortality snatched away, she now stood defiant before Madoris. She could not succumb, not when her men had laid down their lives. She would fight and perish, until the end.

"Arise."

Three triumphs more, three worlds ablaze and desolated. Madoris endeavored to mend her spirit, to rise from her bed, but her body refused to yield.
Three worlds.
How many proud leaders? How many valiant warriors? How many fathers, preachers, mothers, sons, and lovers? How many had she slain? How many...?

"Arise."

Blind to the world, the young Tshaak persisted, undeterred. Thrust after thrust, failure after failure, the lad's strength waned.
Eventually, she would claim his life, for it was her duty. After ravaging five worlds, extinguishing all life, she could not afford mercy for the boy...
Yet, a fragment of Madoris held its breath whenever the Tshaak raised his mud-streaked face and stood tall, resolute in his fight.

"Arise, Nadrazi, bring this to an end."