Satanick was growing tired of Ivlis endlessly lamenting about Siralos, the very God who had banished him. Even when Satanick ripped apart Ivlis' cherished doll of Siralos, it didn’t silence him. That’s when a bold idea struck Satanick!

He pulled Ivlis into an empty chamber of his castle and announced, “Time for some exercises, Roachy!” With a mischievous grin, he backed up next to a picture lying on the floor—none other than Siralos himself!

Ivlis, visibly anxious, watched as Satanick pointed a finger at the image. His heart raced in anticipation of what was to come. “Alright, first let's try giving your emotional strength a workout! ...STOMP ON IT!”

But Ivlis shook his head defiantly. Satanick’s smile didn't fade, however irritation welled up in him as he stepped closer, grabbing Ivlis and trying to drag him toward the photo. “Stomp on it!” he urged again, his voice simmering with frustration.

“I don’t wanna…” Ivlis stammered, his voice quivering as he struggled against Satanick’s grip.

The tension escalated as both pulled and tugged at each other, Ivlis starting to panic. “I'M TELLING YOU TO FUCKING STOMP! DAMNIT!” Satanick yelled, frustration pouring out as he fought to get Ivlis to comply.

Ivlis could only weakly repeat his plea, tears gathering in his eyes. “I don’t wanna… don’t wanna!”