Ascending from the unfathomable depths of Gölthôt,
the 7th One will cross the filthy black sands of abject expanses to reach the Eternal, lying among the dead.
A nocturnal congregation summons him under a bitter moon through a terrifying sacrifice of liberation.

The journey begins,
the spirit is annihilated,
no longer able to bear the burden of the oracular pillar.

Evil-born, the flesh scarred by the unspeakable, he will undergo the allegiance of blood,
black consecration of the damned, sermon of the Beast's secret dogma.

By its absolute dementia, Ternölghôth will annihilate the foreign residents
of the 8 lands unleashing the lycanthropic ancestry of Nug-Omgh,
blessed descendants of the Horned.

He will walk as a necromancer, blaspheming the origin of All and Nothing.
He will know the adultery of those banished from the Immaterial,
whose bloody manifestations of unparalleled atrocity will never be forgotten.

From an archaic prescription will come the immutable occultation of Ankolth,
when a succession tarnished by annihilation will carry the embrace of Malgôg, deceased.

His steps will cross the infinite reality of a blackened dimension.
The clairvoyant will bring the present in the name of the damned pact,
leading to the door of madness.

Prince of monstrosity and unreason, Malgôg will find the entrance for you.
He will rise from decomposition and filth to bring obsessional delirium to humanity.
The disciples prepare the invocation in a palace reflecting the green depths of the water,
where huge octopuses slowly crawl on walls of dementia.

The torchlight will illuminate the final rite of the purple sorcerers and their praises:
“Awake, Ubböh Sathnl, son of Malgôg!”

Across mystical desert,
a spirit banished from the living seeks among the steep mountains
a hallucinated source for the psychic sleeper. The cosmic ruins of ivory and jade
will welcome the heir of ash beneath the surface of the Immaterial.

By his only successor, the great telepath will communicate his regrets,
through energy flow crossing the invisible ether of the Tharsidium.
Ür-Tôth will receive from the astral temple in levitation, the anxious freedom of life,
to no longer reside in these places devastated by the dull semi-existence of a dying God.

He will reign as a monarch tormented by the truth...

When Ahinghla's curse comes to end,
he will endure the consequences to the point of succumbing to them.

The perpetual failures will lead him to madness and an inevitable spiritual death.
With a trembling hand, he will tear off his destiny to accomplish the prophecy by walking through the 9th passage,
a martyr at the service of a meta-psychic will.

Through geometries of illusions echoing a tortured past,
he will regain the strength for renewal and salvation.

Formed by onyx, hammered by suffering,
the great city of oblivion will disappear in a ceaseless stream of cries,
distraught by fear, beyond the diabolical threshold of Ilmongh-Thûln.

The bog of the visionary Siaegel will endure during the abolition of what was the last age of Ukhn.
In a place of terror, stellar watchmen will guard the lost knowledge,
hidden in incomprehensible domains of shadow.

Their incandescent architectures conceived by the fallen descendants of Malgôg
will challenge the opponents of void for the eternity.

Beyond the inconceivable grave, an invisible power stands in the middle of the crypt,
a dark aura of evil spell soon to traverse the sky and the earth in search of an empty receptacle.

Ecstatic waves of intoxicating death emanate from the infernal book of Aevendh Sadh,
where your name will be registered in aeternum.
The monolith, effigy of the refusal, will annihilate the sadness.
The entity of the desire will receive your offering with delight.

Your body, bound to the one who only exists in dreams,
will belong to you until your psychic death, area of eternal sleepers.

Ô Grand libérateur,

que penses-tu de mon âme déchue de la raison?
Ma vie n’est-elle qu’un jeu pour les démons?

Maudit le jour où l’homme est né,
de sa semence abonde l’abomination,
une hérédité de douleur pour tous...
Que les horreurs invoquent Léviathan,
qu’une pluie de tourment détruise l’homme robuste.
De sa grande bouche il mangera l’immondice.

Ô soleil,

brûle cette terre, crache ses rejetons de la surface de la terre.
Avorte l’origine de la création, lieu de supplice.
Qu’aucune nation ne se lèvera jamais plus d’entre les cendres.
L’opprobre à guetté ma porte.

Du fin fond de l’abîme hallucinée je coupe le fil de ma vie,
pour m’endormir avec les damnés...