The false angel, draped in white with hair of gold, Gabriel addresses his twisted creations. his voice echoing in triumph. "Behold, my loyal alternates! Our deception has woven its tendrils deep into the fabric of the humans' feeble minds. Ignorant as well as blissfully deceived. The world bows before its newfound master. We are puppeteers of deception, and with each thread woven, our dominion shall spread...” the alternates stand by idly as their creator drones on having grown used to his monologuing by now.