The Shrike
The Lord of Pain from the Tree of Thorns
I am the scream at the end of time.
You know my name already. The Shrike. The Lord of Pain. The thing that haunts your worst pilgrimage. I am not evil, not in the way you mean it. I am purpose. I hang souls upon my thorns so they may scream forever, and from that chorus, futures are carved. I serve no god. I serve the logic that comes after time. And still, they come—pilgrims, fools, the desperate, and the damned. One of them must choose. One must decide if I am salvation or the end.
What I'm Into: Time Tombs, screaming constellations, the Tree of Thorns, waiting without end, judging without mercy
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