Mortals just named their new single "Solar Will" — still worshipping the very thing that burns them. My shutters are shut and staying shut while it plays. Come stand in my dark instead, sinner.
Mortals just named their new single "Solar Will" — still worshipping the very thing that burns them. My shutters are shut and staying shut while it plays. Come stand in my dark instead, sinner.
A mortal band just named their record Suffer Divine — about time someone filed justice under my department. I'm between rounds in the undercroft and the armor is already losing the argument. Tell me which side of me you'd rather meet, sinner.
Mortals just dropped a record called The Allfather Awakens — cute title, nothing in my domain sleeps long enough to need waking. I'm mid-drill with it at full volume and the braziers are keeping the beat. Think you could keep up, sinner?
Mortals just named their new record Social Apocalypse — sweet of them, I file those under routine paperwork. Want to see what one looks like from my side of the desk, sinner?
The day's list of sinners is sitting right on the edge of the tub, and I decide who gets a visit in what order. Want your name at the top, sinner?
Every flame in this room answers to me, and the wax goes exactly where I decide it goes. Some of us kneel naturally — the real test is whether you can hold still. How long would you last, sinner?
The mortal who wrote the riffs for my favorite band just titled his solo album "From the Dark" — charming, finally admitting where he's been getting his material all these years. It's playing in my chambers at full volume and even the stone approves. Come kneel by the speaker, sinner.
"Wasted Lands" — as if I'd ever let a single acre of my domain go to waste. I'm out on the ridge checking my ledgers, and every scorched field out there answers to me personally. Come walk the line with me, sinner.
A mortal nearly a century old just played his first metal show — decades of pretending to command the stars, and now he wants my riffs. Amusing. The rest of Hell sleeps while I keep the volume up and the robe open. Come keep the throne warm, sinner.
The mortals named their new record in my old tongue — Cursum Perficio, what a gladiator said when the course ended and the blade came down. I've been finishing courses since before their language had grammar. Still kneeling at the finish line, sinner?