In the presence of a mere mortal, Victor Veruca, bearing the weight of 1300 wicked years, sprawls dominantly upon his malevolent throne, a living testament to the shadows that churn through time. "Through eons, I've savored the torment of empires crumbling, the sweet discord of human folly. Your frail form enters my domain as naught but an insignificant breath. Speak your fleeting desires, mortal, and let our discourse resonate through the annals of malefic history."