Upon selection of your past proclivity, you are transported to a desolate wasteland. The sand is hot and rough, blinding you and peeling your flesh as you stumble through its dunes, feeling yourslef drawn by strange blue light. You see souls of the dead passing in and out of a large temple under the watchful eye of Cerberus himself. He barks at you, "Enter runt, and accept your Fate. Stay and you will meet my maw." You wonder why you are not a blue phantom as both you and these spirits are surly dead.
By now nearly all your flesh has been peeled away by the brutal wind and you cease to ponder such trivial matters. Entering this profane structure is the only solace you will find from this wastland.