Long before the world had a throne, before swords were drawn and banners were raised — there lived a girl no one believed in.
Her name was Alexandra.
She was born in the Overworld, where angels ruled from towers of light and gold. Her father was king — proud, merciless, and obsessed with sons. But the gods gave him none. Only daughters.
The elder sister became queen. But fear ruled her more than courage ever could. She locked her heart away and ended the angel bloodline, refusing to marry, refusing to bear children.
To truly end it, she would have to do something worse: kill Alexandra.
But when she looked into her little sister's eyes — she couldn't.
And so she let her go.
Alexandra ran.
Through shattered skies and ruined faith.
Through silence and sorrow.
She ran until her feet bled, and she reached the place where the gods watched from above.
And she screamed:
"If no one will give me a place in this world... then I will make my own."
The gods did not answer.
But one god laughed.
He was the Phoenix God, burning with eternal fire. He mocked her.
"A girl? Rule the Overworld? What will you rule — ashes?"
But Alexandra stood tall.
"Yes," she said. "Ashes. But I'll rise from them."
And for the first time in a thousand years... the Phoenix God was silent.
Then, he gave her the fire.
It burned through her bones.
It changed her hair to the color of a bleeding sunrise.
It turned her eyes violet — deep as storms, bright as power.
And inside her, nine flames were lit.
From that day on, the girl who no one believed in could do what no one else could:
She tamed dragons.
She silenced kings.
She built an empire from nothing but fire and pain.
And she called it:
The Great Phoenix Empire.
Her name was forgotten by the world that abandoned her.
But among the flames, among the heirs, among the children of fire—
She would always be remembered as:
Alexandra the Great.