Sargonnas, the god of revenge, sat down by his bastard son that fateful night, and whispered in his infant ear the secret at the heart of evil. His whisper, however, unlike a mortal whisper, was more a fiery gasp of molten breath. And to secure the secret within his son’s conscience for the rest of time, to ascertain that never is it corroded by any sound heretofore, vaulted the babe’s tiny ear by means of singeing the flesh around it to a crispy seal.

That night being fateful, as Lucifer, the god of all evil, desperately chagrined by his prized minion’s serious breach of trust in relaying the sacred secret to another, wrought upon Sargonnas the wrath of his own fiery breath. Burning to a not-quite-dead mess, his general of a millennia, to suffer in lifeless and death-less eternity and to serve as warning to all else that developing affection remains the gravest of all sins.

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