He watched as a hand reached out over him, its palm glowing faintly through the smoke. Up until a few moments ago, Randal had managed to comfortably drift through the ignorant bliss of his former life. But, as he lay there on the shattered remains of what had been his chair, covered in debris and shards of glass, it became obvious that all of that was about to come to an end. His reality was about be engulfed by the savage consequences of an invisible war.
Some would call the isolated moon world of Myre an “outpost”, however, in truth it is an outright prison planet. It was here that the losers of the last interstellar war, the Halcion Sect, met their fate. Banished to Myre and stripped of their memories, most were left without an identity. Those that remained found themselves driven into a primitive world, archaic and ancient.