Go, do battle, anointed exile. Though my brother and I will aid you, I sense the universe conspires for you to be the saviour of our world on this day.
You have heard my admission of guilt and my plea for forgiveness, yet I sense in the glowing embers of your eyes that you will be glad to be rid of me. I don't blame you, mortal, nor do I begrudge you for your continual anger. The sins I've committed, although bad enough, are made worse by the lens of pride I once viewed this world through.
I agree with your judgement, and though I wish never to return from my banishment, I have made a promise to Sin that I shall one day rejoin this world.
But until that day I will remain in the furthest south, in a place of ice and ash, of blistering seas and abysmal storms. I shall meditate on my wrong doings, until a way of making amends to the millions of lives I have murdered and ruined, reveals itself to me.