The fiery rage hidden deep within has taken over as he hears the cries of his followers echoing down the halls; cries of death. “This is it”, he mutters to himself as his surroundings begin to tremble like trees guided by a howling wind. It’s as if an earthquake was rambling through his halls bestowing the gifts of fear and chaos as it slowly makes its way to his sinewy bones. His enemy is now upon him, equipped with the fiercest desire to eradicate every particle of his being, down to the last drop of frothy, red blood. But as any brave soul would, he only lets the presence of fear entertain him for a brief moment, only to be cast aside by a more powerful, enduring emotion that Diablo knew all too well: anger. An anger that has had years of misfortune and pain to aid in delving its entangling roots deep into his soul, castrating all hope and joy he once knew. The loss of his brother Mephisto behaved as the destruction of his last stand for salvation, providing Diablo with no feasible outlet for the fury contained inside him other than retribution. No longer would he ignore the hostility of his nephalem enemies, no longer would he attempt to escape their orb of destruction as he did in the swamps of Kurast. The childish instinct to strike back at pain is all that drives him, and with the strength of 10 men, he shouts “Not even death can save you from me!” Not just a statement, but an anthem of rage. As the final word is released from his mouth, the sadistic nephalem emerge from the halls, scarred by the feeble attempts of Diablo’s loyal entourage, but bursting with a motivation to destroy the last bastion of hope for Hell.