[ WP ] Most of the Milky Way galaxy is ruled by an interstellar empire , populated by hundreds of alien races . The species of the ruling monarch keeps changing ; once they die , the emperor is reborn as a member of one of the many races . You 're the first human-reincarnation of this ruler .

Around the galaxy, citizens from across the empire hunched eagerly around their ansibles. The anticipation was palpable throughout the Civil Zone. School districts were shut down and businesses closed their doors. On the only holiday that the entirety of the Unified Systems participated in together, a sense of expectancy for this moment had permeated the entire week. 
 
 In the High Palace of Gallacia, Chief Advisor Barant stood, tall and astute, on the central platform of the Hall off Maps, examining a detailed hologram of the galaxy overhead. His suit was pristine, the opalescent fabric shifting colors in the dim light of the hall. Around the edge of the room, rows and row of Navigators sat at their controls, guiding the pods of seekers that troved across the galaxy, searching for the telltale signature of the Empire's Will. Barant watched the hologram expectantly, patiently. One by one, planets and star systems changed from white to red, signifying that the Empire's Will had not been found. 
 
 Thirty-nine days ago, Empress Ambellina passed away in her sleep, peacefully and painlessly. A beloved leader, Barant was heartbroken when he learned of the Empress' passing. He had been Ambellina's most-trusted advisor from the start, nearly two centuries before. 
 
 And now, as history dictates, the Empire's Will would choose a new host precisely thirty-nine solar cycles after leaving the old one. The Unified Systems spanned across the majority of the galaxy, and while there were independent races that existed elsewhere, nobody in the Ferals had been chosen in over 6000 years. And so Barant waited. The entirety of the Systems waited. One by one the star systems blinked red. Hours dragged by lazily as the possibilities narrowed, the bright red stretching across the holomap little by little. Barant began to grow nervous, shifting from foot to foot to foot impatiently. Had they started the search too early? Was there a gap in the web of seeker pods that scoured the galaxy? The people were waiting! They needed their leader! The Empress had been a symbol of peace of progress in a time when the galaxy needed somebody like her the most. Even in the thirty-nine days since her death cracks in the foundation began to grow. 
 
 The holomap pinged. Barant looked up from his news panel, terrified of what he would see. A green dot pulsed. In the Ferals. Planet CB993. Earth, the den of Humankind. Barant's cool demeanor shattered, a terrifying shout of rage and horror erupting from his lips.
