Drawn, drawn unprotesting through the pale black clouds of infinity, through the shadow-haunted mists of pallid nether space/time. Torn from an aeon's squalid torpor toward the pale grey half-light of another reality. From darkness to twilight, from shadow to shadow, pulled by a stranger's will toward a destiny that is only too sweetly desired...
       A nescient quartet of formless grey-light consciousnesses sings its presence in waves of sanguine sentience across the void... soon I shall taste their blood.
       They are speaking the words...
       Engka Rednu Sabma Vil...