The blades of we Ancients clash with that of the fifty powers and I summon forth dark hymns with the blind chaos of Azagthoth. The darkened winds shift toward the heavens, crushing the sphere of red. I call upon the sorceries of Ningishzidda...great horned serpent of the darkest sorceries! With thy majikal chants, the Ancients conquer with victory. May the Asaru eternally rest upon the vacant wastelands. The seven bearers of the ancient throne are exalted from abyssmal waters. The essence of nocturne is caputered within the glass of a blackened heart... The stone has manifested itself in the most balanced of natures! Behold seven hundred and twenty-six!