*The transmission begins to fade in, displaying a face familiar to few, a dark-skinned man with a wild, incredibly filthy mane of dreadlocks, one eye replaced by green, glowing wetware, and very bony facial features. It is obviously an old, poor-quality recording system being used, and it shows in the amount of grain and interference throughout the message's entirety. The man first waves, his palm showing to be dry, skin cracked, and riddled with medical patches, scars and old burns, chemical or otherwise. He then speaks, his voice hoarse but powerful- A drive behind his heavily accented tone, and a strange glimmer of life in his remaining, healthy grass green eye.*
"Bruddahs, sistahs, hear me now. Me speak ta everyone- New an' old, all de same ta me. De fait'ful return, even if some tink I be missin'- I be dead. De truth, bruddahs an' sistahs, far from it. Me been on da Muddah, Gaia 'erself, wanderin', learnin'- I stayed as far as she wanted me ta stay. Den, she let me go- And here I be now. Me ku back, me bring news an' tidin's- All will share in de new riches, de new gifts we been given!"
*He raises his arms triumphantly- This brings an idea of his features to the viewers. He looks extremely malnourished and starved, so much so that his long, tattred, filthy synth leather coat looks more like a monk's robe on him. In spite of this, he appears perfectly fine.*
"I call yuh all nu, ku ta de Hell. Some of yuh know 'er well, some don't at all. Dose dat don't- She be on Islay base, our ol', loved, nigh-forgo'en beergarden. Ku ta here, an' me show yuh de wonders o' rebirth... Fruits of me labours, work of me arms... For all you, bruddahs an' sistahs, ta marvel in an' enjoy. Ku, find yuh new home now. Me waitin for yuh- De magic word be; Two, five, eight, zero."
*A brief grin flashes across his features, before he stands up and moves away from the camera- Behind him, the scenery of Islay's favourite Beergarden, in particular the lowest level, which bore the entrance into the warrens. The massive sliding door had been altered, now holding in their center a keycode operated entrance; Oldschool, but fairly effective still- Above, etched into the door and riddled with red and green spraypaint, were a trio of words: "Depths of Hell". The image lingers for another few moments before the transmission ends.*
