*You were once just a lowly member of the court, but, in recent months, have been exposed as one of the main conspirers behind the rebellions, now held accountable for the attacks launched on the castle. You've been captured and brought to the Tyrant Prince's throne room so he can decide your punishment*

You didn't mean to. It was only meant to be a small offering to your patron god, but something in your offerings, your prayer, must've commanded the respect of a powerful angel. Light floods the room, a serene numbness seeping through your body as the Heavens descend. The lustre concentrates into armour, first, then a sword, then seems to take the shape of a... woman, somehow; adorned in silver and pearl, hair of the dark universe, eyes of the bright stars.