Just the very thought of the man, my former "friend" enraged me to the fullest extent fathomable to the human mind. Years had I lent to his service, to his friendship; injury after injury, I stood by him, unwavering in my loyalty. I was owned by him, and I was honor-bound to him. If ever I had "Betrayed" him, it was only to prove that I were more than a man killing in the name of something that was not my own, but a true friend. When I took my leave from you, like a child, you foolishly surrendered all that we had worked so hard to accomplish, threw it away like simple refuse. So long, so hard had we worked for your dream, so many people had you manipulated to place yourself upon the peak of the summit, and then so quickly thrown away over a simple squabble. Yet, when I returned, it was not to fanfare, it was not even to your cold reproach, but rather, to find that you had surrendered your earnings to nothingness. Once more, I risked my life to save you, to find you weak, torn, emaciated. Mortified was hardly an accurate description of my reaction at the time. To see you so weak, your dream shattered, laying in pieces on the floor, it was truly painful. The dream that you had sacrificed so much for, even your sexual innocence, was now broken, and it would be a long time, if your state was not permanent, before it would ever be mended. The man, seeing no end to his tortures in sight, gave one more desperate struggle to chase his dream. In one single motion, he surrendered to his fear, his weakness, his foolishness. His choice was this: surrender everything that he had in his life, everyone that he ever cared for, for the "Restoration" of his dream. The man, the accursed man, sacrificed it all, even myself, for this dishonorable acquisition of his foolish dream. As all of my friends were killed before my eyes, the love of my life tortured and raped also before my eyes that "Friendship" quickly erased itself, for this was the definition of an unforgivable act. As a result, I have lost an arm and an eye to the fool's dream, and every day, it costs more, until his hopes to reach his dream on a bridge of the dead comes true (And the bridge grows longer each day). Now, everything that I have ever loved has been sacrificed to a cause in which I was considered expendable. The damnéd fool, the awful, confused whore! All these days, I stood to serve as nothing more than fodder under his boots. Just another dead man on his body count as he strides across the corpses to drag himself to the castle of his dreams. He shall not live to see happiness again, for I am the embodiment of struggle, the Lord of Death, and I will put to the sword all testaments to him, all memories of him until nothing remains. I will force him to endure the same tortures that I was forced to suffer, the same agony that I am still forced to live with, every single day of my life, for not one night can I gain any rest, not one day can I truly be with the love of my life, not once am I not reminded of my losses. He showed the ultimate display of weakness, and now I am to show him the ultimate display of suffering, and I shall not rest a moment until the bastard knows the ultimate agony of hell a million times over.