“Wait, our God Emperor, has two halves? Why is Kreist the false and nightmare half?” Frida asked the Jovial Atris who was enjoying her curiosity. “You see, that is how they chose it to be, because, one was born of the flesh and memories of a corpse, and the other was the true soul who had to flee.” He said with a somber smile, he knew more than what he was letting on, but it had to wait for now. “I see Master Atris, there is more though yes.?” She asked just before sipping her tea.

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  “Why yes, we will now speak of the Herald Darse Satanail, and how he came to be, and how he met Kreist.” He would chuckle softly, eager to speak of his own father now. Atris took joy in all storytelling; this was his nature. “Now my dear Frida, the story takes place in a dimension that was pocketed away by the Parents of our God Emperor, and their will is what would lead to them meeting.” With the flick of both wrist and casual hand gestures began to form the new illusions. “It all began with Pan’Doana, the Lady of Pandemonium. Or as some would call her Pandora.”