In the name of God and His chosen Scriptures, I, Heideran VII, by the Grace of the Divine Sovereign Emperor of Holy Amarr and Holder of the Celestial Throne, set these words to record.
It is not for glory that I write, nor for the adulation of courts and cathedrals, though both have been mine in abundance. I write because the vision that stirs within me will not be silent. It demands voice, demands witness, demands that even the lowliest soul in the farthest reach of the cluster might one day read these words and feel the warmth of a peace not yet born.
I have seen war. Not merely from the gilded balconies of Oris, nor through the filtered holoreels of the Ministry of War, but with these eyes that God granted me. I have walked the blackened decks of ships torn open to vacuum, have knelt beside the bodies of children whose only crime was to be born beneath a banner different from my own. I have heard the final transmission of a battleship captain (an Amarr captain, faithful and brave) begging his crew to hold the line while his voice cracked with the knowledge that no line could be held forever.
And I have asked myself, again and again: Is this the will of God?
The Scriptures are clear. We are chosen. We are the sword and the torch. We were commanded to bring light to the darkness, to reclaim what was stolen, to bind the universe beneath one truth. For centuries my forebears wielded that command like a lash, and the cluster bled for it. Billions knelt. Billions more burned.
Yet the same Scriptures that bid us conquer also bid us show mercy. They speak not only of reclamation but of stewardship. They remind us that every soul, even the soul of a Minmatar savage or a Gallente libertine, bears the faintest ember of divine origin. To extinguish that ember forever—is that righteousness, or is it the ultimate blasphemy?
I tell you now what I have told the Holders in closed council, what I have whispered in the ear of Khanid when he thought to renew old vendettas, what I have confessed in the dead of night to the empty air of the Imperial Chapel: the era of the lash must end. Not because we have grown weak. Not because we fear the Republic’s fleets or the Federation’s votes. But because God, in His infinite mystery, has turned my heart toward a different reclamation.
There are those among my own people who call this heresy. They clutch their genealogies and their slave rosters and cry that I would unmake the Empire my ancestors forged in fire. Let them cry. I have read the chronicles of Ardishapur’s wars, of Zaragram’s crusades, of the mad excesses that followed each “victory.” I have seen where the path of endless reclamation leads: to a galaxy of graves and a throne that sits atop a mountain of bones.
I must confess, I had to ask Grok to translate this for me first. One must make certain one fully understands the accusations before responding, after all.
Still, if the work in question is the spreading of the word of our Lord and Saviour, the teachings of Pax Amarria, and the divine wisdom of our Emperor… then surely this is not appropriation, but missionary work.
I shall endeavour to credit the original author in future. Assuming, of course, the Empress does not claim the copyright first.
Thank you for your effort and dedication, I hope that everything will be functional when you transfer the base to a new environment - the workspace. Space, as it sounds familiar
not today… we’re still on the previous level, the bump to 170 will happen in the near future though! All of dev/test is on 170 but the load is very different
Why did you break the mechanics of hacking, before this change of yours I hacked successfully 9 out of 10 with the same parameters, now I barely hack 4 out of 10… I don’t understand what the problem is! Restore the hacking mechanics parameters as before. Thank you…