PRETENDERS TO THE THRONE OF I CONFINED AND DISEASED IN A LIFE SO HABITUAL EPITOME OF MY CREATION WEAK ATTEMPTS IN A WORLD YOU COULD NEVER GRASP I DEMAND THE BLOOD DRAINED FROM THE BODIES OF THE ONES WHO DECEIVED ME I DEMAND THE FLESH STRIPPED OFF THE BONES AND BURNED OF ITS SANCTITY I DEMAND THE SOUL CAST INTO FIRES OF AN EVERLASTING HELL I DEMAND THE MEMORY ERASED FROM MY MIND AND NEVER TO RETURN CHAOS IN THE FORM OF ORDER SYGIAN VISIONS WITH THE ABILITY TO CRUSH HERESY DENIES THE THRESHOLD LOST ARE THE ONES WHO FALL SHORT OF MY ORDINANCE SINFUL IN THE WAYS SO AGELESS BORN TO THE SHRINE OF UNEARTHLY CREATION PROPHECY OF THE SHADOW IMPALED ON THE BONES OF THE FAILED AND FORGOTTEN