Imperial

When Glory’s life was taken, her reign was appropriated—her precious charge, given to her by the Creator himself, was removed. Even worse, the king, that at one time she swore she shared her soul with, was also taken, or at the very least, had done nothing to avenge her death. An eternity had passed thus far, and he’d yet to charge through the cathedral gates of The Reaper’s personal throne and beg for her return. That is, until the night Glory caught the encroaching scent of mint lingering in the veil of death that surrounded her. Against her will she was sent home, home to a world that she did not leave behind. War was raging. A web of deceit, manipulation, and broken hearts and souls were pitted against not only her, but also for which her race stood. Through her wrath she could not understand why Vade, the King of Anger, was insistent on walking her through every soul seizing first they shared together. All she knew was that the Creator, The Reaper, and the King of Anger all shared a secret that had everything to do with her, and those in her charge. In her mind, the unspoken words had to be horrific considering that she was glaring down at the end of days for all of mankind. One word. The secret was one word—one word that will spawn an evolution that is unprecedented. Everything changes now.