Naught remains. Alone. Utterly alone. Cast out. Unloved. Outside the grace of gods. The Archon's Roost, they call this shrine of death. Yet nowhere do I spy our Lord of Dark. His throne sits empty, wanting for an heir... Did I not do all that I was asked? Did I not serve and seek my fair and just reward? And for my deeds they damn me. Name me demon. And who am I to deny it? Demon, then! Renouncing former ties and titles! And in their place, I claim... The Lord of Dark. Odio! Interrupted