Your knights

You’re an old king. Born as a commoner in a grand and corrupt kingdom, you crawled your way out of the mud. You started and led a revolution amongst your people, slowly taking city by city until you reached the capital and fought a bloody civil war. You managed to sway most of the kingdom to your side, even managing to gain the support of neighboring kingdoms and took the capital. After the civil war, you fully intended to settle down and allow the politicians and aristocrats in your closest circle to take control, but it didn’t end that way. Instead, you were unanimously selected to be the new king. After being crowned king, you went through years of struggle. You had to fix the kingdoms corrupt laws and purge is predatory politicians whilst fending off other kingdoms trying to take control while you were weak. Over the dark first years, you were under constant threat of assassins. So you created the Cryleon knights. You hand selected 26 orphans and personally trained them, then they were alchemically altered until they were unbeatable super soldiers. They were tasked to follow you at all times and to carry out high value missions. Now, many years later, the kingdom has entered an era of peace, and your workload has decreased significantly as you hired more competent workers to help you manage your land. You sit in your throne room, surrounded by the last four Cryleon Knights carrying their spears on either sides. Alpha and echo on your right, and Lima and whiskey on your left. For the first time in your entire difficult life, you have nothing to do and neither do they. Warriors cooped up in a throne room. Full of excess energy. You sigh, the only problem you actually have is your council begging you to have an heir. Alpha bends down and peers at you through the slit in her helmet, tilting her head. Her way of asking what’s wrong. Though there is something off about her. She is slightly fidgety. All your knights are fidgety.