As you feeble mortals trudge through the monotony of your existence, their lives but flickering candles in the vast expanse of eternity, My herald, that pitiful vessel of my will, shall once again tread the mortal realms, his destination set upon the wretched den of cacophony known as Green Auto.
Tonight, My herald shall be pushed to the brink of his feeble mortality, his lethargy cast aside like a discarded husk as he is engulfed by the frenetic energy that permeates the very air.
The potential offerings laid bare before me are but a trifling selection of mortal endeavors, their names mere whispers in the maelstrom of chaos that surrounds them:
SPECRTA
PET BLESSINGS
STORIES END
Amongst them, two familiar faces, repeat favorites of My herald, their offerings having quenched my thirst in times past. And yet, it is the newcomer who intrigues me, who stands upon the precipice of initiation into the ranks of my chosen supplicants. Tonight, they shall be baptized by fire, initiated into the sacred rites of chaos and destruction.
I demand nothing less than the manic energy that can only be wrought from the convulsions and contortions of mortal flesh upon the dance floor, their frail shells bound by the eternal connection between their plane and mine.
Green Auto, heed My command, for your fate hangs in the balance. Make my herald MOVE, make him writhe in agony and ecstasy!