Who will win?
The fanatical followers of the Aeon of Erudition,
Or the audacious plots of the monarch playing against heaven?

The AtaviSearch Forest's monkey creatures,
The steel soldiers reviving the emperor,
That Theoros's visage of arrogance —
On her chessboard, all faded to null.

“In the name of Amphoreus,
I will grant freedom to blind faith.”

The monarch stood before the inorganic throne,
Driving the Scepter into the emperor's vacant gaze.
Even the gods beyond the sky shall crumble like the Titans,
As she swears to seize the glory of conquering the stars.

Who will win?
The immortal faithfuls of the Aeon of Abundance,
Or the storms dancing between the chessmaster's fingertips?

The pawn slay the birds,
The horses trample the wolves.
The chariot smash the trees,
And the queen severs the head of pestilence.

“In the name of Amphoreus,
I will grant immortality eternal rest.”

The Xianzhou lays forth the ocean's tribute,
Which the monarch grants to her loyal Gladius.
And upon that knight's sorrow-marked visage,
Appears a smile — precious and rare.

Who will win? The raging waves of war from the Aeon of Destruction,
Or the sharp blades of the empress that has never tasted defeat?

Even in the face of the power that swallows the stars,
Neither monarch nor subject faltered.
They would prove their golden blood,
Outshines the lifeblood of the gods themselves.

“In the name of Amphoreus,
I will grant destruction to Destruction.”

The monarch's Coreflame supplants the flames of annihilation,
Soldiers drink deep of the golden blood of The Blemished One.
She has slain the wellspring of tragedy,
Once again usurping destiny's crown.

Who will win?
The light of the esteemed gods beyond the sky,
Or the Coreflame lighting up the world in the Imperator's heart?

The fury of the stars surges headlong,
Boiling at the edge of the galactic empire.
Mighty factions thrust into her realm,
Yearning to seize back the splendor of old.

“In the name of Amphoreus…”

Stellar winds scatter the enemy's remaining ashes,
As golden blood once again congeals into familiar epitaphs.
The master of the infinite cosmos lifts the edict high,
Declaring to her boundless, ceaseless realm —

“I shall conquer the heavens, and all stars shall submit.”

Chuckling, the Imperator tosses her final pawn.
Her previous delusions withering away during the game
She wiped off the formations that were purely imaginary,
And caught a glimpse of rust blooming upon the throne.

On the night before the monarch faced fate,
She left behind a grand dream of conquering the stars.
In time, she shall become but a humble pawn,
So that this grand illusion retains a sliver of truth —

“This world's game is nearing its conclusion,
But in the distant future…”

For the raging and burning ambition,
For the Flame-Chase through thirty million creations,
For the Imperator's realm and all her citizens.

Who will win?

“I will win. Amphoreus will win.”