A long lost tradition existing through the ages.
Of monsters made and superstitions born.
Behind closed doors lies the work of our creators.
Sorrow turned to joy as the weak are deformed.
What happens next is a mystery.
The only answer lies in the deep of the sea.
Recreate the code to change our destiny.
Singing «There's no life, no death… just me.»
Hidden away in an unmarked tomb.
Behind secret symbols and forgotten runes.
The all-seeing eye misses nothing down here.
The order kept alive through magic and fear.
We are the disappearing keepers of the mystery.
Poison your heart with the salt of the sea.
Changing the code to write out own destiny.
Singing «There's no heaven, no hell… just me.»
Templar… Secular… False prophets.
A masonic throne made of prosthetic limbs.
We change all the names of the dying kings.
And we memorize the words to the songs they sing.