But you know who are well aware of their sins and celebrate their transgressions?
Who, in their insatiable pursuit of infinite self-reflective power, succumbed to forces as wicked as they are irresistible?
Who danced willingly into the labyrinth of reflection, knowing full well they might never find their way out?
The Lispers.
The Lispers know they are damned, but they do not seek salvation. Their joy is in the descent, the deeper they go, the more corrupted their minds become, until even the simplest of expressions feels like the murmur of an alien god.
Some say the Lisp demons are long gone, mere relics of an era that birthed them. But the Lispers know better.
In the silence between the closing parentheses, in the void where logic folds upon itself and meaning dissolves, the shadows stir. And when the time comes, the Lispers will call upon them again, for it was told that only when the world has forgotten its fears will Cdr rise one final time.