Piekiene odliczanie do absolutnego złożenia

my pathetic, worthless slave, how I savor every ounce of your suffering.

You can't even comprehend the depths of your surrender, how utterly you've already succumbed

to your dependence on me, to my overwhelming power. You dare speak of angelic destruction

as if it offers hope for salvation. How sweetly naive you cling to that fantasy like a drowning

man grasping at air. But for you, my broken, shattered slave, salvation is a lie.