Oh, Dear Wanderer, 

     It wasn't supposed to be this way, you know? You were supposed to be their hero. The light in their darkest hour. The hope birthed from their despair. Now you tear apart the very hands that crafted you. How does it feel, my sweet wanderer? To have your claws drenched in the very blood that gave birth to you? To hear the screams of horror from voices who once sang your praises? Do tell me, my dear wanderer, how does that bitter blood taste when it reaches your tongue? Do they still pray for salvation? Have they yet realised there are no gods in the hell they have made for themselves? It's funny really.. they believed they sent me my destruction, but really, they sent My Saviour