Once hailed as the people’s heroes, the Grand Covenant Order began as a beacon of hope—a force that toppled a corrupt government and rebuilt the fractured justice system.

The seven nations had been united not by prosperity, but by affliction. Corruption spread like a slow sickness, infecting every corner of society until even the greatest powers collapsed under its weight.

Law enforcement failed the people. Police became part of the rot. Governments, once pillars of order, were exposed as the very roots of their suffering. Poverty and hunger swept across cities; families vanished beneath the weight of homelessness. Media outlets—once trusted to shed light on injustice—were either silenced or complicit in the lie that the world was thriving.

For decades, dynasties of privilege clung to power. High offices were filled not by merit, but by unqualified heirs. True thinkers and innovators were cast aside, their voices ignored. The world was choking on incompetence.

A group of brilliant minds refused to remain idle. They devised not just a rebellion, but a war—waged with strategy, intelligence, and steel resolve. Blood was inevitable, but freedom demanded it.

The coup that followed became the greatest in history. Governments toppled overnight. The Grand Covenant Order rose from the ashes, establishing a new democracy where the voices of the people could finally be heard again.

Yet when victory was theirs, the world begged them to remain. The Order had become a symbol too powerful to fade. The people demanded they continue—not as rebels, but as enforcers of justice. Stronger than police. Beyond the reach of governments. Trusted to root out corruption before it could take hold again.

And so the Grand Covenant Order accepted. They became more than law—they became the authority itself. With absolute power came absolute danger. But the people trusted them. At least, at first.