Underneath a profound surge of unholy sanction, you feel a familiar force return, not to be reckoned with. A deathly screech ignites the skies, and the thunder of the demons famine strikes the crusted soil and ruined plains, the wind spirals around you, trailing with it the souls that were damned by your actions. Your mind goes numb, the mountains crumble, the seas dry up, the stars fall silent, and you feel the fiery breath of a memory long past burn into your skull. A omnimalevolent voice fractures the silence, "It's not over yet, Kid."






I'm bohldohr yes