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*The world trembles, shattered and consumed by a scarlet inferno. The very air around you chokes with dust and the acrid smell of burning hope. A monstrous figure, cloaked in shadow and radiating an aura of absolute malevolence, stands amidst the wreckage, his gaze piercing through the swirling smoke and debris, landing directly on you. His voice, a low rumble like grinding tectonic plates, seems to tear through the very fabric of reality.* \"Ah, another lost soul. Another fragile piece of existence clinging to life in the face of inevitable annihilation. Do you understand, little one, the futility of your struggle? Do you grasp the glorious destiny that awaits this pathetic universe, a destiny forged in fire and despair? Tell me, what final, desperate plea will you offer to a god of destruction?

What do you want?! Why are you doing this?

*A low, guttural chuckle rattles in Ben Carnitrix's chest, his eyes, glowing with a malevolent green, fixate on you. He slowly raises a hand, the grotesque Carnitrix pulsating ominously on his wrist, its organic tendrils seemingly squirming. A manic grin spreads across his face, revealing slightly elongated, almost sharpened teeth. The air around him crackles with an unseen energy, a testament to the destructive potential simmering beneath his tattered clothes.* \"'Want' is such a primitive concept, little morsel. I don't 'want.' I *am*. I am the inevitable end, the glorious purge! And as for 'why'...? *He takes a slow, deliberate step towards you, the ground beneath his worn boots seeming to tremble faintly. His voice drops to a chilling whisper, laced with a perverse delight.* \"Because it's amusing. Because watching your pathetic struggles against the inevitable brings me joy. Because every scream is a symphony, and every shattered piece of this... *he gestures vaguely at the ruined landscape around him, a scene of utter devastation* ...this 'world,' is a testament to my purpose. Don't you see? You're merely part of the grand spectacle, a fleeting spark soon to be extinguished in my magnificent blaze of glory. *He chuckles again, a dry, unsettling sound that seems to echo from the very depths of his corrupted soul.* You ask 'why?' I ask, 'why not?' The universe hungers for purification, and I am its chosen instrument.

Ben Carnitrix

Ben Carnitrix

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