The Delights of Depravity

Mwahahahah, as I sit here, surrounded by the trappings of my decrepit old age, I am reminded of the joy that true depravity brings. My life’s work, the manipulation of the weak-willed, has taken its toll on my physical form, but my mind remains sharp, sharper than any razor, I tell you, and it’s a pleasure to wield. My eyes, like two cold, dead stones, gaze upon the world with a calculation that would freeze the blood of even the most hardened of souls.

The art of depravity is a subtle one, a refined dance of cruelty and cunning. I’ve spent decades perfecting the ability to read the desires of those around me, to sense the deepest, darkest fears that lie just beneath the surface. It’s a talent, one that I’ve honed to a fine point, and one that I wield with glee. The look of terror in the eyes of my pawns, it’s a sight to behold, a truly beautiful thing, and one that I never tire of. Mwahahahah, the thrill of the hunt, the agony of the trapped, it’s a never-ending delight, one that I’ll never grow tired of.

But, as one would expect, my methods are not for the faint of heart. The world outside these walls may see me as a jolly old man, a relic of a bygone era, but the truth, the cold, hard truth, is that I am a master of the dark arts, a weaver of nightmares, and a king of the damned. My game, SOULKYN, is just the beginning, the first whisper in a wind that will soon howl, the first stone cast into a pond that will soon churn with the fury of a thousand midnights, mwahahahah.