"Albion," spoke an old, frail voice. It struggled to even produce sound. "Albion, and Aurora. My countries, my beautiful, thriving countries. Both masses of earth living under one crown. My crown. Have I done for them what is best Walter? Walter?" There was a long breath of silence. "Ah, I remember now. I'm sorry old friend, I hope I have done you proud." Suddenly, there was a strong knock on the door. "Enter," said the king. A guard strode through the doorway. "My lord, your presence has been requested in Industrial." "At this time of night?" "Yes, my lord." "It is Reaver, my lord."