This just in!: The Infernal Council has met at last and all has been squared away for the coming Armageddon. It’s funny, looking back at everything that has occurred leading up to this — the terror, the violence, the cruelty, the filth — and I still find few things as enjoyable as reading the written work of my wife. My sweet whore, my false messiah, my pensive beast, my little abomination… Other than that, I merely want to say how much of an honor it has been to serve in Dis City, this fragrant vessel of ash and iron, for so many aeons. Having had the luxury to have trounced a bit into the future, I can safely say that I am prepared for anything that occurs, and will likely feed you as many lies as I can to fill in all the necessary gaps of the would’ve, could’ve, should’ves. After all, no one really knows what lies beyond 1967 and 2026. My guess is as good as any: which means, to put it romantically, full of shit.
As always, I carve a distinction for the dying into the cathedral walls: What defines the powers of nobility? A true fiction?
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