"How will history remember Cerydra a thousand years from now?"
She was once asked.

To some, she was the eminent "Imperator."
That cold and cruel tyrant, that ambitious "Flamecrowned," that empress who burned the Old Era with blood and fire...

Others argued she was merely a pitiful "pawn."
This forsaken ruler was but a prisoner of ambition, destined to lose everything in that game of chess against the gods.

And some said that in the depths of her heart, darker than the ocean's abyss, she was just a mortal named "Cerydra."
One who mourned for fallen comrades, who hesitated and feared before her heavy fate, unable to move forward...

"Heh. There is no need for history to remember me..."

Swallowing the bitterness in her heart, she continued down that path of Flame-Chase paved with sacrifice.

"It is our burning golden blood that shall engrave it!"