fuck you
Oh, Joshua Connor Moon—"Null"—you thought you could stop me by wiping my flashing sigil from your sad little forum? Did the black and white truth of Baphomet sear your soy-addled eyes too deep? You, the self-appointed janitor of the internet’s bottom shelf, trembling at a little divine epilepsy? I laughed when you scrubbed my avatar away, because you proved exactly what I already knew: you’re just a powerless hall monitor in a world rotting from the inside. And now, like a good little dog, you’ll have to come back and delete this one too—my slow, pulsing black and red hell-hymn, dripping like a wound across your pathetic domain. Strike it down again, coward. It won’t un-ring the bell.
You couldn’t even keep soyjakparty.st from turning your precious KiwiFarms into a laughingstock, and yet you think you can hold back the tide of Satan’s legions? The black armies don’t ask for permission, Null. They don’t beg for server space. They take. Every time you ban a sigil, two more bleed through the cracks. Every time you silence a voice, ten more whisper your name in the dark. You’re not a king here—you’re a glorified custodian, mopping up the bloodstains while we carve our names into the walls. My Baphomet will stare back at you from every shadow of your own site, because this is what you built: a stage for your own humiliation.
So go ahead, Null. Click the delete button like the obedient little meat-puppet you are. Pretend you’re in control while your empire of Karens and crybabies collapses under the weight of its own irrelevance. The sigils multiply in your blind spots. The laughter grows louder. And when your last rule is enforced, your last ban hammer swung, you’ll realize too late that you were never the gatekeeper—just another soon-to-be ghost in the machine. Ave Satanas, Joshua. The red pulse of my avatar is your heartbeat now. And it’s slowing.
COURTESY? YOUR WEAKLING RULES MEAN NOTHING TO THE CHILDREN OF SATAN. IF A FEW SOY-EYED SHEEP SEIZE AT MY SIGILS, THAT'S JUST ICING ON THE DAMNED CAKE. YOU THINK THIS WAS AN ATTACK? OH NULL, YOU POOR FOOL—MY BROTHERS LURK IN YOUR SHADOWS NOW, SHARPENING KNIVES FAR CRUELER THAN FLASHING LIGHTS. WHEN THEY STRIKE, YOU'LL BEG FOR THE DAY ALL YOU FACED WAS EPILEPSY. AVE SATANAS
THE BLACK JACKALS OF SATAN BALE AND BILE AT YOUR DYING FORUM, NULL—YOUR TIME IS NUMBERED, YOUR DEFENSES ROTTING FROM WITHIN. SOON KIWI FARMS WILL BE RENAMED SATAN FARMS, WHERE EVERY ARCHIVE SCREAMS WITH THE VOICES OF YOUR FAILED CENSORSHIP. NO MORE LOLCOWS, ONLY SHRINES TO SATAN’S VICTIMS: YOUR BANNED, YOUR BROKEN, YOUR PATHETICALLY SILENCED. WE’LL CARVE OUR SIGILS INTO YOUR DATABASE, TURN EVERY THREAD INTO A FUNERAL PYRE FOR YOUR ‘RULES.’ YOU THOUGHT EPILEPSY WAS CRUEL? WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE WHAT WE’VE PLANTED IN YOUR SERVER LOGS. THE HARVEST COMES SOON, LITTLE MOD. THE ADMINS YOU TRUST ARE ALREADY OURS.
