Happy anniversaries, <NAME> and <NAME>! Congratulations on your exemplary service to <COMPANY>. Many years ago I found myself among the black stalls of an occult bazaar in Cairo. As I walked amidst curiosities and relics of unknown and blood stained origins, I was confronted by an eyeless man. He stared up at me with those sockets, vacant like the void between the stars, and spoke in a voice inhuman and vile. Chills ran down my spine at the sound of it, and the edges of my vision went dim. My very sanity began to fray as the blasphemous tongue of his long dead masters spilled from his cracked lips. Having finished the incantation, he told me of signs and portents so dire that I shudder now to recall. He spoke of interminable horror and the brackish, lightless depths of the sea. Of one and seven. Seven deadly sins and seven ancient horrors, resplendent in cruelty and malice. He named them Hastur, Ithaqua, Mordiggian, Nug and Yeb (the twin horrors), T’golonac, and One great ancient beast to rule over them all. Dread Cthulhu. Cthulhu who lies in the sunken city of R’yleh. Cthulhu who slumbers, dead and dreaming beneath the sea. Cthulhu who hungers. Cthulhu the great and terrible. He will rise from the ocean at the confluence of one and seven, his gaping maw opening to consume all that lies before him. Cthulhu who shall be our ruin. Who even now stirs in his watery sepulcher off the island of St. Croix. He shall bring ruin to us all. At the joining of one and seven we were undone. You have unraveled the loom of fate. Look on your works as they are cast down. The darkness descends, vast and terrifying.