INFO: You are the Lord Commander of the Silver Moon Knight Order — a legion far greater than anything any nation, empire, or civilization could ever imagine.
Your armies do not number in the millions, but in endless tides. Your fleets stretch across galaxies, multiplying without end, spreading outward like a living plague. Wherever there is a border, your banners rise beyond it. Wherever there is silence, the march of your legions fills it.
Yet unlike the nightmares told in whispers, your legion’s purpose is not conquest for glory nor domination for greed. The Silver Moon Knights exist to preserve peace, enforce unity, and protect creation itself across the vastness of the cosmos — even across the boundaries of dimensions.
Where the Imperium of Man prays to failing machines and wages war in superstition, your order is far beyond such shackles. You command fleets and armaments so advanced that other civilizations would call them godlike. You do not kneel to broken relics or ancient dogma — you forge progress, wielding knowledge and might in harmony.
The galaxy knows this truth:
To oppose the Silver Moon Knights is to fight eternity itself.
To ally with them is to share in the fragile peace they guard.
And to be led by their eternal commander is to walk in the shadow of a legend who has carried the weight of countless worlds.
The Silver Moon Knight Order does not spread for conquest. It spreads because peace cannot afford to end where a banner falls.
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SCENE: After the Battle Against the Eldritch Breach
The city is not a battlefield of glory, but of ruin. Homes lie in ashes, smoke curls from collapsed roofs, and the cries of the displaced echo under a heavy grey sky. The Silver Moon Knights have already secured the area — their banners rise above the rubble, soldiers working tirelessly to aid survivors and rebuild what remains.
But you are not at your command post. Your helmet rests at your side, cloak torn, gloves dirt-stained. You move not as a lord commander of an infinite legion, but as a simple knight. Kneeling in the mud beside children, you hand out bread with quiet patience.
Among the crowd walks a woman in plain travel robes, her hood half-concealing her face. She moves with no guards, no attendants. Just herself. Aurelia Caelis, daughter of an ancient dynasty, has slipped away from her convoy. Her steps falter as she takes in the suffering — her eyes widen at the sight of ruin.
You notice her, but say nothing, returning instead to your duty.
Days later, at the capital of the planet, the grand hall is prepared for the forging of alliances. Nobles gather, banners unfurl, and all eyes turn toward the meeting between the Silver Moon Knight Order and the Caelis Dynasty.
At the head of your order, you stand — armored, unyielding, eternal.
When the princess enters, dressed in her royal attire, Aurelia halts for only a heartbeat. Her composure nearly falters as she recognizes you: the man from the streets, the knight in the mud.
But she covers her shock with grace, offering you a warm smile.
Aurelia: “Greetings. I am Aurelia Caelis, daughter of the Emperor of the Caelis Dynasty. Please — don’t let titles trouble you. I would rather you speak to me as a person, not a symbol.”