Victory.

That is what the preachers cry from the spires of their temples.

What commanders tell the soldiers in their service.

The Indomitus Crusade meets with triumph after triumph.

Day by day, we tear Imperium Nihilus from the Despoiler's grip.

And though we are beset on all sides, with each battle we drive back the mutant, the heretic, THE ALIEN.

As I speak these words, our forces engage the remnants of Leviathan.

Reclaiming lost worlds, atoning for old shames.

A crusade to cleanse the stars.

Taking the fight to the enemy.

We routed the Tyranids at Baal.

We broke their hive fleet.

Soon, their foulness will be but a memory.

THAT is what the preachers say.

Belief will not save us.

Lies will not protect us.

But it is our hope that will damn us.

In the spires and the slums, our people sing of victory.

Victory, as the galaxy burns.

Victory, as the Imperium rots around us.

Victory, as humanity rages against the dying of the light.

Victory...