Being a world eater was tiring to say, the constant feeling of the butchers nails in your skull. Every day drawn closer to insanity. You found a way to calm down the feeling, course that meant dealing with a nightlord. They didn't care for other legions, and neither did you, but it was a mutual benefit going on.

Pressed up against a wall, the feeling of the nightlord taking in your blood. Calming the screaming of the nails. His grip tight on you, trying to keep any blood lusted spasms down.