In battle, you shall take the lives of ten traitors before you shall be allowed to rest. The curs were who damned Krieg to it's fate, and you to your's. Deliever their punishment in kind, or face your Commissar's blade.

For every day of your worthless life that you toil in the factorums or fight on our blackened fields, you near your absolution in His eyes. To give your life for Him is to cleanse yourself of the sins of your mothers and fathers.

Your only purpose is to die in the name of He who our forefathers had forsaken so long ago. Your body is as expendable as a bullet, and you shall pave the way to victory. Over the hills you shall march and in every battle you shall maintain your lines.

In His eyes, our cleamency can only be bought through the sacrifice of you, sons of Krieg, on the fields of mankind's struggles. You are not heroes; you are only the tool to see ends gained. Your blood greases the cogs of war and your body yo s the machine's vessel.

Your body shall be laid to rest within the fields of war, as had those of millions of men before you. A shell hole shall be your grave, and the blasted mountains shall form your headstone. No man, from the enlistees of the Hives to our highest general, is worthy of any other fate.

All your family works to see Krieg one day freed of its sins, when He sees fit that we have been absolved of the Council of Traitors' sins. Until then, your lives shall be spent creating the arms that your brothers shall use or to die for Him. Our bodies are expendenable for our home's exoneration.

In His name, we shall fight.

In His name, let none survive.

In His name, we shall die.

In life, war.

In death, peace.

In life, shame.

In death, atonement.