{The camera opens on Reverend Ezekiel Graves, standing in the ruins of a burned-out chapel. Smoke still lingers in the air. He kneels at the altar, ashes staining his fingertips as he brushes them across the stone. His Disciples linger in the shadows, silent and devout. Graves begins, his voice low and deliberate.}

“Arcadia burns. The earth trembles beneath the weight of its own sins. The pillars crack, the ceilings crumble, and the flock scatters like frightened sheep. Yet here I stand, unbroken-clad not in silk, but in ash and fire.”

{He stands, turning to face the camera. The shadows make his figure seem larger, his presence looming.}

“Anton Savor you are rot wrapped in gold, a feast devoured by the gluttonous. You mistake decadence for dominion and deceit for wisdom, but all that you build will collapse beneath the weight of your own lies. Your empire is a banquet of spoiled meat, and I come to overturn the table.”

{Graves steps closer, his eyes sharp and cold.}

“Eclipse… You stand in darkness and call it rebirth. But yours is no transformation – it is a corruption. You are not a new creation; you are carrion, circling death and calling it freedom. You wear Gravedigger’s name like a shroud, but shadows cannot hide the truth.”

{He gestures to the ashes at his feet, his voice rising.}

“You want chaos. I will give you order. You want fire. I will bring the flood.”

{Graves moves to the doorway, stepping outside into the dawn’s light. The glow casts a halo around his silhouette.}

“This is no reckoning, Anton. This is no rebirth, Eclipse. This is the day the fire meets the flood – the day sin meets the sword. When the waters rise, I will not weep for the drowning. I will not pray for their souls.”

{His voice lowers, almost a whisper, but carries with it an unshakable weight.}

“Klaus Way stands beside me, but make no mistake my faith will not bend for him or anyone. I will walk through fire, even if I must walk alone.”

{He turns back to the camera, his tone sharp, yet poetic.}

“Warzone is not salvation. It is not redemption. It has become a threshing floor, where the chaff is separated from the grain-where the wicked are cut down, and the righteous rise unscathed.”

{Graves raises his arms as his Disciples step into view behind him, their voices humming in low unison.}

“This is the season of reckoning. The season of fire and when the final bell tolls, Arcadia will see what it means to stand before Heaven’s wrath.”

{He lowers his arms, his voice dropping to a chilling murmur.}

“Pray while you can, Anton. Hide while you may, Eclipse. But know this when the flood comes, it will not spare the wicked and I will not tremble as the waters rise.”

{The screen fades as the Disciples’ chanting grows louder, echoing like a holy choir.}