There are men so vile that to hesitate in condemning them is to stain oneself. Drest Nilahad was no tragic figure, no victim of fate. He was a coward cloaked in ambition, a fraud draped in power. He did not stumble into darkness-he sought it. Every betrayal, every cruelty, was a choice. And those choices left a galaxy in ruin. Some will plead for context, as if understanding might absolve him. But we all suffer. Few among us become what he became. This is not a tale of redemption. It is an account of the rise of evil. Read on, if you must. But there is no glory in these pages, only truth.