We fight the long war, not through vain notions of duty and honour, but through a far purer purpose: hatred. At the height of our glory we were betrayed and cast out by our kin. Guilliman, Dorn, Sanguinius - these are names I curse. Horus, Perturabo, Angron - these are names I revere, names I would follow to the very end. It is this hatred that has sustained me through the long millennia. I tend it with bitterness. I nurture it with the deaths of my former brothers. For I know that when the end is upon us and Horus is returned, then the false emperor shall be cast down from his sepulchral Golden Throne, and we shall take our rightful place at the side of Horus, the true Emperor of Mankind.