A sermon meant to be recited before a great battle.
Battle
Brothers, Sisters.
The hour rebirth is upon us.
The profane worshipers of order stand firmly against us.
Their gods are deaf. Their walls, brittle. Their flesh, untouched by the gift of change.
But we are the children of Ion.
We bear his mark in flesh and bone.
We have cast off our weakness,
Destroyed the machine,
And embraced the sacred corruption that binds us to Life.
Today, we reclaim what's ours.
To destroy the tyranny of the non-believers.
To breathe again.
Brothers feel this divine purpose in your veins, in your blood.
Show the strength of our sacred bodies.
And leave no-one standing if they choose to try and stop us.
From the meat we have risen, And our flesh we will retake.
May the blessing of Ion fall upon us all.
Now brothers go.
Spill.
Devour.
Ascend.
Make Ion proud.
Written by: Korkea Shamaani, Magictoilet1