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I'm not your average steamcity larper, I'm genuinely convinced that I'm literally an omnipotent deity. So far, no one has proved me wrong, and I continue to win while those around me seethe and cope endlessly. Alas, the topfeeder life is a lonely one.
You, the common rabble, pollute this platform with your mundane musings. Your small minds could not possibly comprehend my otherworldly knowledge and sage advice. Instead of lowering myself to engage with you simpletons, I express my grandeur through arcane means—cryptic lore, Latin incantations, lexical technomancy—things far beyond your limited ken.
Through my thaumaturgy, I was granted special sight, I saw the ancient Vaal city that once stood in this place. I saw, as I stood at the base of a great pyramid, the sacrifice of new harvest unfold. The steps ran red with a river of blood, a crimson tide, cascading towards me and washing over my skin. In it, I felt my being shake, as if lightning was reverberating through my body. I felt the strength of that blood ritual, and then, I found myself once more standing in ancient ruins. I thought it to be all a dream, only, when I reached up to touch my face, I found it both horrifyingly and marvelously, pelted with that same salted vermillion.
I HAVE CLOSED THIS REALM! YOU WILL NOT LIVE TO SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY!
MY MINIONS HAVE FAILED ME!
BUT NOW YOU SHALL FEEL MY WRATH
COME MEET YOUR DOOM AT THE WALLS OF MY CASTLE