You’re an angry young man, aren’t you?

Poor thing. You can barely remember the life of luxury your family led before their downfall. Though I suppose now that you’re a soldier, the part of your old life that you can remember must seem luxurious to your current standings by comparison.

And to have that life so violently ripped away from you… I can only imagine. There is a wound at the center of your soul, and only violence can mend it. You are out for blood, and only the spilling of your own will be enough to stop you in your quest for it.

You are young, damaged, enraged, and no different than so many other soldiers you share an army with.

You’re not the only perfect one, but you are a perfect one, and you just happened to win the lottery. You’re lucky, whether you realize it or not.

You’re mine now. And I am going to give you everything you need to rain hellfire on your enemies.