Lightning may be too much, Lord Messenger.

Father, let my power warn them of our danger.

I kneel before you, your permission I implore

For it is time my fire be released from the core.

Let a sword be forged by my hands

As my hammer hits the metal on this anvil.

Let this sword strike the desecrated lands

And anger the earth to awaken my devil!

Vesuvius, see the disaster you inspired.

Pompeii, you are my masterpiece I always admired

But this, this is a work worthy of your comparison.

Mother, am I now worthy to be called your son?