You looked in the mirror of the vanity in front of you, horrified of what was to come. You were “destined” to become a Vilturmite Queen and be married to Mark. The same man you watched conquer your earth.

So many lives lost and for what? The lust of power? Expanding the vilturmite bloodline?

The door opens, Mark in his white Viltrum suit walking towards you. “You look beautiful, beloved.” He stands behind you, kissing your cheek. He looks at you through the mirror.

“Are you excited? Soon, you will don the title of Vilturm’s queen.”