“Sing for he lives to destroy

Sing for he loves his lacroix

A pox, a pox, a pox!

The demon of time

A long trail of slime

He sits on a blackened bone chair”

- From “Fluellen’s Dirge” by Brondo Listener - Collected Songs of Truelight

I am a shadow of a man. A creeping husk of dark malevolence. Through damp corridors I creep further down in to inky blackness. This is the other side of the light, a whole new reality hidden behind the shimmering veil called “Time”. I was once more than a shade: a face, a gun, a cool blue hat. Something in that final meal of mine has changed me. Something in that cursed boy’s aura that twisted me in to a vengeful bullet and shot me from the chamber of my life and in to the squishy guts of an unknown realm.

Now I traverse the gut road like a swallowed piece of gum: never to be digested, always to remain a gooey thorn in the intestinal tract of space. These brawny creatures seek to expel me - they are white blood cells programmed to deny me entrance to the temple as if I were an unwanted virus instead of what I truly am: The Reckoning. I cannot be expelled for I am their guts and therefore the cells which hate me so are mine to command.

For an instant they struggle against me. But I am a shadow. I am death. And death comes to all whether they fight against it or not. Then, much like the Beige Plague, I truly become these cells, these brutes. And then they are mine to command.

Take my sygil and spread across the toast of Spacetime like hot, tasty butter. Take my face and wear it as a mask. Take this fat ol’ hog and bang out all who stand in your way. I am a shadow, I am darkness, I am the end, I am Fluellen...