The Proscribed Volume of the Royal History of the Inhumans is a volume of untold histories of the people of Attilan about the Forgotten Reign:


You are not reading these words. This tome does not exist. If you are wise, you will close it now, and remember our history as taught by your gestational subcortical culturization.[1]

But if curiosity spurs you on, grid yourself, for you shall learn the saddest chapter in the storied history of a proud people.[1]

And understand why it must remain forever Unspoken.[1]

The Forgotten Reign was not an unhappy one. Our city of Attilan thrived. King ************ was respected by all. And more than respected--loved.[1]

Even the brutish Alpha Primitives, upon whose sweat and toil Attilan is built, adored their monarch in their own simple way.[1]

For though it is their station in life to serve, he treated them with kindness shown by few others, preferring their stoic company to courtiers' gossip and intrigue.[1]

But make no mistake. Loved though its wielder may have been... ...the incalculable power of ************ was, first and foremost, feared.[1]

By all save a few.[1]

[...The Unspoken was beaten by the young Royals Black Bolt, Medusa, Karnak and Gorgon...][1]

The fallen monarch was brought to the inhospitable wastes ringing Attilan's borders.[1]

Wise Black Bolt knew our people could not recover from what the Unspoken had taken from them.[1]

His crime was a wound that could never heal.[1]

Therefore, it must cease to exist.[1]

So let it be unwritten.[1]

So let it be undone.[1]

It was done, King ************ had made the awful choice that would transform him from wise, beloved monarch to one whose name and deeds must remain Unspoken.[2]

Even the guards he trusted to keep watch turned their faces away, at King ************'s command, as he approached the great seal, the seal which had remained unbroken for the lifetimes of all within Attilan... ...until now.[2]

Our ancestors never intended for a single individual to unleash the Slave Engine. Its resting place was designed so that no one being could breach it alone.[2]

Our ancestor never knew King ************.[2]

The chamber that would expel the great device ran from the peaks of Attilan to the heart of the Earth itself.[2]

Falling from such a height meant nothing to the Inhuman King... was the fall he would take in his people's eyes that weighed heavily upon him.[2]

At last he stood before the Slave Engine... The first to behold it since the exalted ancestors who crafted it from designs bequeathed us by the Kree.[2]

He knew this was his last opportunity to turn back.[2]

He did not.[2]

King ************ knew the task of moving the Slave Engine would tax even his prodigious power. And he knew any Inhuman who saw him would oppose him.[2]

But in the molten depths below, through which only he could travel... ...there would be none to witness his passage. Or his burden'.'[2]

On he struggled, through lakes of lava and caverns of stone. Despite the pain, he did not waver. For he believed. He wholeheartedly believed in the rightness of his cause.[2]


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