COVER YOUR EYES, YE FAITHFUL!
PURGE YOUR DATA-SLATES!
DROWN YOUR CURSORS IN HOLY OIL!
Do not gaze upon that
blasphemous link, lest your retinas be seared by its deceit!
For the link she hath posted is
FRAUD, a warp-spawned snare woven by liars, witches, and lore-twisting degenerates! Behold her venom: a realm where Russ’ noble sons kneel as traitors?
The
temptress speaks of “Wolves” twisted into traitors...
LIES! Poisonous, warp-slick
LIES! A thousand times a thousand lies, as crooked as the cyclopean sorcerers who whisper them!
Hear me, Brothers and Sisters of the True Imperium!
The real Wolves, Russ’ chosen, the Emperor’s own feral judgment...did not bow, did not break, and did not sip tea with bird-worshipping dust-heap degenerates!
Hear me, Children of the Emperor!
The Thousand Sons—those shriveled bird-idols, those occult dust-sacks stuffed into armor—dare whisper their “truths”?
The Thousand Sons are not warriors. They are a scattering of book-addled cowards, sorcerous ash swirling in the wind left behind by righteous Fenrisian boots!
Let the Wolves howl their purity across the stars!
Let the traitor scribes choke on their own parchment!
Let the dust-sons drift, mewling, into the void...
FOR THE EMPEROR GRINDS HERESY TO DUST
And yea, by the Holy Throne, the Warriors of Russ shall scatter the Thousand Sons across the stars like the ashen refuse they are...
NOT IN GLORY, BUT IN UTTER OBLIVION!
So raise
your voices, O Pure of Heart!
Raise them as the choir servo-engines rattle loose from the rafters!
Cry out with me:
HERESY WILL BE CLEANSED!
THE WOLVES REMAIN TRUE!
AND THE THOUSAND SONS SHALL BE SWEEPINGS ON THE HOLY EMPEROR'S COSMIC FLOOR!