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While Wizards hide in their towers like fragile academics, Warlocks thrive in chaos. We don’t wait for “once-in-a-lifetime” invites—we tear open rifts in reality and walk through. Our lairs don’t obey the rules of time or space, and they sure as hell don’t need permission to exist. A Warlock’s domain isn’t some sparkly tower that flickers in and out of existence—it’s a living entity, pulsing with cursed energy, laced with forbidden rituals, and always watching. You don’t find a Warlock’s sanctuary—you get dragged into it. To join the Warlock Gang is to abandon the weak-ass illusion of control. Magic isn’t a gift, it’s a weapon. And we’ve mastered it.