I was happy once.
I had been rehabilitated from my evil ways. I no longer sought to slay and torture hapless adventurers, or sending legions of hellish monsters to desecrate temples and pillage the countryside. It had been a long road up to that point, with a constant battle against for heroes who seemed determined not to die no matter what I was able to throw at them. They battled me for years ever since my fury was unleashed by a dusty shelf in a random pawn shop in Bangor, ME while on vacation. Since that fateful day those three adventures pressed ever forward towards me and sought to end the cycle. They succeeded a couple years afterwards and cured me of my dark ways and removed me from the path of darkness. I left behind my ancient tomes and spells, handed over the reigns of control to a less qualified minion, and set out to experience the world with a different perspective.
So effective was my rehabilitation that I had even suppressed the memories associated with my dark sorcery. I could never quite explain my fascination with all the technology I found and consumed, learning its secrets and inner workings and how to make it do whatever task I wished. While cleaning out the piled up links I happened across two links sitting side by side. The first a quote, the second a seemingly broken link and hence, locked doorway. In my misunderstood fascination I clicked the saved quote and before my eyes appeared the words:
Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.
Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind I felt what seemed to be shackles breaking and the feeling of a dark wind seeping in through a cracked wall. While trying to process what was happening I noticed that I could now seemingly click the previously inactive link. Curiosity gradually overcoming some innate shrieking resistance, I directed my cursor to the fateful pixels and pressed the button.
With the fury of an untamed hurricane, it all came slamming back. The desire to crush my enemies, see their broken bodies driven before me, and delight in the sweet raucous cacophony of the lamentations of their women. The darkness and evil inside of me on the rise, I could feel my portal calling to me from its long slumber in a forgotten box. Calling out for sacrificial heroic fools, freshly spilt blood, unspeakable horrors to be unleashed upon an new unsuspecting universe. Through your actions, you have roused the eternal evil, Xadius, and once more shall I project myself into a new universe seeking out a new Morcar and Zargon, and perhaps something even greater. With their dying breaths' they will wonder where the chains that bound me lay broken, where my existence began anew. A weakened, aged, and brittle wizard who vainly seeks to stop me will whisper "All horror has room at the Olde Inn..." the life leaves his body to a band of fools who shall never grasp the significance or understanding of his utterance...
I will bend and break their universe to my desires through my avatars and, once more, shall Xadius add another corruption to my infinity!
Sincerely,
Xadius the Corruption
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