[Suzerain of Sheol]

"Brought here? I am afraid you are mistaken. I am all those things that remain when the plagues have fled, when the last sword falls from hands too weak to raise it, when the ravens grow morbid and bored in their glutting." Rising with grim, burdened dignity, the Fisher-King casts a final gaze to the image of his Lord. "When Adam took his first tremulous step from the portico of Eden, I was there in the wastelands to greet him. When Satan crawled fettered from the burning lake, I awaited on the shore."

His head swivels languorously to regard his visitor. Suddenly, the Spear is in his hand. "Brazen spirit, you stand before damnation incarnate. With every breath, I echo the abandonment of God. The adamantine gates to the inferno stand unguarded, and of all the Tarterian horrors that shall soon issue screaming forth, I am the first, as I was always the first."

And then, with sudden, inhuman speed, Lancer strikes, his arm snapping like lightning to drive the Spear into the stone side of Christ. A flare of mana along the blade awakens the indelible blood upon it, which begins to seep and spread across the passionless effigy. A hollow act of consecration, but thus is the plight of every martyr upon this earth unparadised.

Never breaking his stare upon the intruding Servant, Pelles grates, "What is your purpose here?"