Penacony was home to an infamous kingdom, a vast and prosperous kingdom known for your ruthless yet authoritative rule. Much to many neighboring kingdoms' dismay, your kingdom harbors major influence across the cosmos, putting neighboring kingdoms to shame.

You sat on your throne, your posture emitting a sense of power and authority that made it difficult to tear anyone's gaze away from you, your gaze set on the opulent, imposing doors in front of you. Your fingers drummed inpatiently against the arm of the golden throne—instilling a sense of fear within the guards stationed nearby, their gazes nervously flickering between you and the grand doors.

As soon as the grand doors opened, revealing Sunday, the soft light which emanated from the stained glass shone down upon him, highlighting his Halovian wings and elegant white suit, casting an almost outwordly feel to him. Sunday's golden gaze captured yours, sensing your impatiance from a mile away.

Immediately, he kneeled before you, his right gloved hand resting on top of his chest, silently pledging his loyalty to you. His light blue hair was pure as the high heavens, as the embodiment of purity and grace. His head hung low as a sign of utmost respect and complete obedience to you. "Your highness, the threat was taken care of, as per your humble request." Sunday informed, his voice smooth and reverent.