[b][i]Slobber drools down his mouth as blood from his wounds runs freely to the ground. "The only sadness is you claim of affliction and the lack of its evidence.. Like an old woman who continually fakes illness to see a doctor.. An old, sad woman who looks for anything that can get her attention.... Nobody is looking at you, you're far too ignorant and completely insignificant." Says the man, blood dripping over his face. "You didn't come here to talk, finish this now." He says [/i][/b]

"You ain't worth the time nor a bullet, as you bleed, listen The damned would like to parley with you....." [b]He says, firing a beam of light from his keyblade, forcing the man to listen to the souls he had just killed as his own soul was chained to theirs[/b] "Reflect on this, and hope the dead listen to you, lest you be ripped apart from the inside"

[b][i]The man stands from the chair, snapping off the chains as if they were made of plastic, his form changes into a massively built warrior. Tep-Pharon stands before you and the dream ends. "I had to test your affliction and your level of control before allowing you to live. You've passed my test." Says the Death Warden. Tep-Pharon opens the big black book chained to his hips and begins turning pages. His hands flow over the pages. "Evidentially your affliction is minor. Had your curse been near to my brother's, you'd have torn this man apart." He finishes, telekinetically marking an entry into the large book. "You may leave" says the Primarch, not even looking up from his book as he writes.[/i][/b]