My name is Magnus… and I was the Breaker of Worlds.
Ghosts. I am haunted… BY GHOSTS.
These ghosts be of the beings… the LIVING BEINGS who I thoughtlessly killed under the FALSE ideation of ushering ‘peace’ to my ‘home galactic sector’… to the ‘Verse.
‘Twas a lie… A GRAND LIE.
Constructed, this ‘grand lie’ was by the SOLE LIFE-FORM; the TWISTED THRACKER who was once the Holy-Emperor of the Royal Voltairan Empire, the Sole-Supreme Ruler of planet Voltaira, and all of its people.
‘Twas the man who I willingly and proudly served to with grand honor, respect, integrity, and grace.
HIS NAME WAS ALIXANDR CORVINIX VOLTAIR… AND FOR TEN SOLAR CYCLES I operated as his puppet… his tool… his weapon… HIS WORLD-BREAKER.
I, along with nine others like myself; the Galactic Deciders, would be dispatched to NUMEROUS WORLDS who we thought to be in alliance with the empire’s SWORN enemy: THE KREN.
We were conditioned to believe that the Kren were the most dangerous threat in all of the Known Universe.
The emperor would dispatch the others and myself to Kren Populated and Kren-Aligned worlds three day-cycles after giving them two choices.
The first choice: surrender themselves and all of their natural resources to the Voltairan Empire before being tried for the heinous crimes against innocent and civilized life by the Grand Galactic Deciding Council.
The second choice: if they refused to surrender… THEN WE WOULD BREAK THEM.
I WOULD BREAK THEM.
Tis why they called me the Breaker of Worlds.
WITH A MERE THOUGHT I could reduce an entire planet to nothingness… As well as eradicate its indigenous population in a milli-cycle.
I have broken many worlds… SO MANY.
I HAVE MERCILESSLY SLAUGHTERED TRILLIONS… And there be no way to absolve me of my grand crimes.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
I am not innocent. I shall never be.
There be no solace for me. No peace.
I have nothing. ABSOLUTELY. NOTHING.
All I do now is run… AND HIDE.
TWO CYCLES HAVE NOW PASSED since I destroyed my former fellow deciders, cast Voltair into exile, and freed the people of Voltaira from his wretched rule.
I am now relentlessly pursued by Hunters and Drift-Bladers.
From world to world and galactic sector to galactic sector, I am hunted.
There is no one world that I can call my home. Not anymore.
I had a home world once. It was called Crix… AND I BROKE IT.
Under the direction and grand order of Voltair, I BROKE my home world and rendered my OWN RACE extinct… WITHOUT EVEN REALIZING IT.
My fellow deciders and I, our whole life-cycles, we had been lied to… BY VOLTAIR.
We thought we were peacekeepers of justice and righteousness when we really were weapons of death and destruction.
I should be dead. I WISH I WERE DEAD.
I don’t deserve existence.
I don’t deserve to draw breath.
The only thing I truly deserve… IS SUFFERING.
Tis all that I feel and endure now.
Every waking day-cycle, I suffer with the thoughts of the TRILLIONS of deaths that I solely caused lingering grandly on my mind and heart.
Day-cycle after day-cycle and night-cycle after night-cycle I constantly run and stay hidden.
I think about all of the pain, anguish, and suffering that I have caused to several masses throughout my former home galactic sector… And the countless others that lie beyond it.
I hope and pray for an end that never comes.
Will I ever die?
Will my life-force ever be extinguished?
I do not know.
All that I know now are TWO things:
REMAIN HIDDEN… AND DO NOT INTERFERE.
I live by these rules.
Tis all that I have left in this cursed life-cycle.
The rules… And the suffering.
No one remains. I have no one.
No friends… No family… No love.
I have nothing but myself and the memories…. The dreadful memories.
I want to die.
Are you hyped for Book 2???

