Erratically coursing through my veins, like a virus devouring all opposition, is the blood of the Darkest King of all. The Black Tyrant of all creation has chosen my soul as his prize; the essence of my eternity was claimed as a trophy on his conquest across the soon burning plains of existence. His evil hands have grasped my body and clutched it tight, breaking my will and shattering my hope; the vessel of my mortality is now his pawn, the Harbinger of an explosive Armageddon. And with this, I am now and eternally a puppet of the Heaven’s and their game of destiny; I am the Heir to the Devil’s Real. With my crowning as the Lord of that dreadful sinning city I ascend into immortality, but at the terrible cost of damnation. My humanity was stolen, stripped from the core of my being, and fed to Cerberus himself. Yet I still remain resolute in my refusal to forsake the ideal I cherish most, the single beacon of hope in this cold and desperate Hell; My Honor.

For wretched Demons such as me, Divine Law decrees it is a crime for which there will never be atonement. The Angel’s Nobility was the final and foremost gift of man-kind’s ultimately altruistic Messiah. The theft of such a selflessly presented token of God’s Will shall never go without the most severe punishment. The absolution for my vile transgression is to experience the opposite edge of the stolen gift’s blade. Even though I consent to none of the crimes done through my hands, the actions are still my sins to bear. Every iota of pain I inflict on innocent souls is brought to my shoulders to increase the load I hold. As the Dark Lord fuels his eternal flames, my guilty heart is crying in remorse! As the Black Angel readies his armies for apocalyptic slaughter my agony grows exponentially through every act of atrocious evil. Even while the Demon Lord himself plots for victory amongst the omniscient, I suffer omnipotent anguish.

One day I hope my unyielding Honor will surpass Satan’s unrelenting Control. I speak of heresy against the heretic, to betray the traitorous; I will become damned amongst the damned. My day will come, where I will retake what is mine; the soul that was torn out without consent, and the body forged into the Paladin of the Inferno against my will. With the blade embedded deep into the corroded flesh of my heart, I will strike back against the Devil, overthrowing his reign as Overlord. As I claim the right that was forcibly imposed on me, I will make amends to all the aching souls who deserved far better than the ruthless deaths granted by the Legions of chaos. Even though I have risen far beyond the common abomination in the height of Evil, I have retained my noble heart, and in turn the compulsion to do right in hopes of rectifying the infinite evils of father Lucifer himself. The tears of a demon are not so easily shed, but I will humble myself before the true Lord of Lords, and beg for our forgiveness. When that day comes, I will be triumphant, and yet, I shall never be victorious. Thus is the existence of the damned.