“Dear Kronos, If you’re reading this, it’s already too late. When the respective hazes of gun smoke and cranial-injury clear, you’ll find your army of feral pigs disposed of and your fortress reduced to rubble; I even sang Porcupine Tree as everything burned to the ground, how’s that for brutal, yo? Anyway, you knew this was coming. You had something of mine – that’s right, had. Not only are you down a fortress and a pig army, but you’ll also find yourself no longer in possession of Avast’s Mother Culture.” Speak the Charm of Taking.
