It's coming... I am convinced. Now, I must convince the others. We have seen the longer winters... We have felt the limits of the Sharing. Our planet is changing, we must change with it. We must leave the forest, start again, explore and reach out. We must find new ways. Adapt. Learn. For if not... we will perish. And that will not happen while I wear the crown.
We were different, once. We fought, drank, an loved as mortal beings. But our world changed and we faced a stark choice: Alter our bodies, or perish. Yet "survival" is not the same as "life". Now we are prisoners of the armor that binds us and the Dust that sustains us. We must drain Dust, drain energy, or die... Where is our honor now, Lords of the Amber Plains? And what matters more -- to reclaim our honor, or sustain our bodies?
The colony was everything. They were born as one, they fought as one and they died as one... driven by their hunger. But I hunted for something more... I stole the sentience of an ancient power and saw a greater purpose. For we were the first; Auriga is our planet. And I will turn our hunger against those trespassers who would take it from us. One day, we will reign supreme on Auriga. And we will gaze up at the stars, still hungry...
They are weak. They are soft. They writhe in supposed discomfort at minor penances that the faithful would not even notice. Their sloth will be their undoing; without the pain, they cannot touch the power. Use your eyes! Or I will remove them in atonement. See that Auriga herself writhes in anguish -- as we all should. Join me in contrition and mortification such as Auriga has never seen. Together we will embrace the agony, and make it our servant.
The Endless broke us when they broke themselves. Now we are few and many that remain are of little use. Yet our purpose still drives us; even death cannot be allowed to stop us. We must find new converts, new servants, who will help us fulfill the great oaths we took so long ago. They will not only be our hands and our eyes, they will be the sword and the shield of our armies that will bring the Eternal End. First upon Auriga, and then across the universe.
Can you not see it? The End is near. Auriga is infested with foolish creatures who look at tomorrow as if they will live forever. They do not understand that none will survive... unless. From ignorance springs curiosity. From wilderness surges civilization. From barrenness grows exchange. From savagery arises bravery. As of today I see none who might lead this planet to its salvation. Unless...
They thought they would silence me forever. I fade colder and darker... Yet I have never felt so alive. I feel my senses, my Guardians coming back to life. They contain so much power, so much hope, but something is different... Will they be my saviors or the tools of my destruction?
Ages ago we were banished by our kin. In fear and shame they turned their backs on us, closing the door. We survived on a world gone mad by embracing the madness. Thus shadow and silence became our allies, and they made us strong. Now the time for payment of ancient debts has come. The price will be high. And we will be paid in full.
Oh Children, don't you roam at night. As they will get you anyhow.
You beings fixed, inflexible and slow, are not true Aurigans and do not see... That She, our Mother, as her life ebbs low, shall be delivered by the Allayi. For we, who change, adapt and persevere, will fight for Her survival come what may. So heed these dire warnings most sincere, for ruin comes to those who bar our way.
Now, I am alive again... And again... Can't this just stop? My oceans and mountains are frozen... I feel... I'm drifting. Look at them, Picking, plucking, reaping! Maybe they are here for me? To heal me. Maybe they are here... To end my torment? For good.
Marines do not fear the cold, the dark, or the enemy.
Though not in the least a religious man, he is known to recite some sort of phrase or prayer at the end of each successful battle - a mystery whose secret even his closest lieutenants have not unraveled.
His rage burned brighter and brighter, until one day in its incandescence he struck out of his birthplace, seeking vengeance.
The insatiability was agonizing rather than merely annoying, and drove it to constant foraging or constant battle in order to feed. Driven to eat its own young, that act - forbidden except in times of urgent desperation - made it an outcast from its hive.
A gift to the gods, an Appeasement of Agony to pay for our sins of weakness.
It is said that the worst way to die is to burn.