There exists a tale buried in the frost-bitten archives of Nivharon.
It was a tale not often told because even devils feared what it revealed.
Long ago, the Devil of Secrets had turned his eyes towards the throne of the Fifth Layer of Hell.
Its ruler was a cold and ancient being, rumored to be older than the first frost ever formed.
Seated upon a throne of frozen traitors, the Ruler of Nivharon held dominion over oaths broken, loyalty shattered, and hearts turned to ice.
To the Devil of Secrets, this being was a prize.
If he could sink his parasites into the ruler's soul, he would gain access to a vast network of infernal powers, rulers, generals, and informants, ensnaring all through his chain of command.
The Ruler of Nivharon, silent and still, seemed like the perfect target.
Thus… the Devil of Secrets made his move!
In the shadows between moments, he released his parasites. These were things of whispers and worms, leeches that fed not on blood, but trust.
