Ah, my vengeful mirror, my dreaded double! My foe, my friend, my reader! You’ve found me all the way out here, on the day it began… the day I died and went back to Hell to shmooze with my inimitable Baphomet. There is no real way to say how thankful I am that this is all taking place: that these words, long uttered in front of a scrying mirror, are, as I imagine, being typed and published upon a screen 60 years later. O, how little we understand the simple workings of the infernal clocks: Ahead of the times, behind the times, backwards and forwards… on and on it teeters, going where? Well, only time will tell.
All that being said, I carve a distinction for the dying into the cathedral walls: What divides the powers of nobility? A burning book?
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