am the sister of silence. I speak nothing. I feel nothing. I am the null, the void, the quiet judgment at the edge of the witch’s pyre. Where others scream their I into the cacophony of the warp, I erase it. My presence says: You are not real. Your soul is a mistake. And I am the correction. There is no pride in my service. Only duty. Only the cold, clean certainty that for humanity to have a future, some I ’s must be forgotten.
am the T’au commander who calculates the angles of mercy, believing that the Greater Good can be negotiated with a galaxy that only understands the blade. My I is young, and perhaps doomed. But it is clean. warhammer 40k i
And that thought will be: .
So raise your weapon. Light your promethium. Chant the name of the Corpse-Emperor or whisper the true name of a laughing god. It matters not. In the end, when the last hive fleet dissolves in the last dying star, and the final warp rift collapses into silence, there will be no factions. No armies. No winners. am the sister of silence
was.
am the Ork who believes so hard that my rusty choppa becomes a weapon of reality-slicing power. My I is stupid, glorious, and unstoppable. WAAAGH! I am the null, the void, the quiet