
G’AHHHHH. G’AHHHH. IN THE FAR TIMES NOT LONG AGO, BUT BY WHICH MANY YEARS HAVE HENCEFORTH PAST, WHEN THE EARTH WAS STILL COVERED FROZEN BY HAILS AND SLEETS AND POUNDING DRIVING FURIOUS STORMS FROM THE HEAVENS ABOVE, WHEN THE VOLCANIC ASH OF VOLCANOES HAD SPEWED FORTH AND MADE A CANOPY OF NOTHINGNESS AND DARKNESS AND DARK NOTHINGNESS, SEVERING THE MOON’S ARCHING FURY BROUGHT DOWN BY THE ASTEROID DESTROYER IN THE EMBRYONIC COIL OF THE SERPENTINE ANNIHILATOR…THERE I HAD SURVIVED AMID THE CHAOS, AND THOSE WARRIORS WHO HAD LEFT THEIR LEGACY OF COMBAT UPON THE FORSAKEN LAND. THE NORMALS, THEY CANNOT LIVE FOREVER, NO MAN CAN LIVE FOREVER PHYSICALLY, EVEN THOSE WHO SPILL THEIR GUTS AND BRAINS AS TRIBUTE AMID THE TRAMPLING DINOSAUR AND THE DINO-MASTERS AS THEY DO BATTLE ATOP THEIR SUBMARINE SABERTOOTHS. BUT DOWN THEIR FACES IS A LEGACY. CONSTELLATIONS PAINTED BY THE PAIN OF THEIR IDEALS AND WHAT THEY BELIEVE IN. IDEALS WHICH CAN LIVE THROUGH ME AND BE SPREAD AMONG MY LITTLE WARRIORS, AS THEY TEAR INTO MY FLESH, RIP INTO MY TENDONS AND SUBDIVIDE MY ENTRAILS ALONG THE PATH TO PARTS UNKNOWN. AND ALL THE CITIES WHICH HAD ONCE STOOD WERE SILENT SAVE FOR THE POUNDING DRUMS AS THE WARRIORS RISE AGAIN FROM THE ASHES OF A LAND BEFORE TIME HAD FORGET AND FORGED THEIR FURY AS I FEED UPON THOSE VISIONS OF FRUSTRATION FROM THE PAST. THE FINAL VISIONS OF THE HOUR GLASS FILTER THROUGH THE SCEPTER IN THE SANDS OF TIME WHICH HAVE NOT YET JUDGED FOR WHAT IS YET TO BE JUDGED... ULTIMATE JUDGMENT.
Winter Weather Warning... Expect 12" of PAIN.
4/5= Powerful