I am formidable.
To my daemons of unknown origin,
I am coming for you.
That you have boldly risen in my mind betrays your naivete, and your youthful exuberance shall be your final undoing. You and your kind have tested my patience for the last time.
You should know that I have come many times before in flesh and bone and slaughtered your arrogant brethren in the sacred name of Love. The element of surprise remains the only tactic left in your repertoire of spiritual warfare, after which I will cut you down like so many sheaths of brittle winter grass.
I am formidable. My lives have been spent in the pursuit of truth and my skills have been honed now to a hefty razor's edge that I can, at will, swing down in Thor's own image with surgical precision.
It will take me whole days to collect your scattered pieces to the fire.
There is no place for you to hide, should you be even wise enough to seek shelter, for I know the ways of all material things. With these ten dexterous digits, I can seek you out in stone, steel, and timber with fabulous efficiency and magical manifestation. These words serve only to clarify my singular intent.
You are not safe.
You will be shown no mercy and given no quarter. As the taste of Love waxes my lips, I have no time to hear your hollow poison pleas for understanding and acceptance of mediocrity. You shall be cast out forthwith.
You should regard my prior sacrifices as preparations for your eviction.
That I am invincible should be your only consideration.