The Aiyan Prince

"As the machination consumes me, my eyes see the divine spirit burn on in my broken limbs. You are calm, amongst the wards, the holy machination you have been cast into. Though the gears and cogs churn wickedly, turned by the hearts of evil men.

The laws of thermodynamics, the ruthlessness of cause and effect, become your sole purpose and obsession. To strike fear into your enemy's hateful hearts, with ten swords instead of one. Brutal retaliation is now your only option. And when your enemies blood spills heavily upon the sands, beyond measure what he himself had spilled, cast your black eyes upon it and spit into its fearfulness. You have wreaked upon it immaculate terror and pain.

Beyond any and all known calamities. For Aiya suffers from their evil suicide. Become this holy revenge, violently carved out of the flesh of the wicked. The tongues of ancient men, long since torn out, once called this karma and effect. We must be stronger than such men. For the combines of the wicked have destroyed them all too well. Darker than the night, blacker than a thief's shadow, we must become these demons of faith and evil.

Demons that would strike out for no reason but for the sake of the aroma of spilled blood, to the point of complete soul destruction of their prey. Even as sheer spectacle. Wired to feed our amusement, with no other reason in mind than Aiya's own survival.

Such is the hate of the imitating coward. Such is the suicide of the whisperers and hackle raisers who lie to warriors and turn on themselves for the evil within. Let the prince of death rage inside of you. For we need to become these demons of war and pain to survive this apocalypse of imitation and whispered threats to us all. This holocaust of the hateful who claim a false authority to arrest us just under their breath. Their bristles hackling, while they put on a menacing air.

But if you listen closely, what will you hear? 'I'll arrest you. I'll arrest you. I'll arrest you all...' They whisper it over and over again to the point of constancy, as if it is in their energy, while they lack any and all authority to do this! Bristling away, or not. The infinite swarm of imitators and liars who chant mantras with their minds has become paralyzed with hatred for themselves.

Their suicide is near. For they no longer wish to love with their hearts, but instead to chant threats with their minds. While they wish the strong, whom they mock, to drown in the blood spilled by their apocalyptic suicide.

All Aiya is in danger."