We are the hymn of death. We are the cadence of the warrior's spirit.

Our roar will stretch across creation from end to end. Our symphony, inescapable and immortal in design, shall ring for all to hear. And such ringing will spread malignantly until there is nothing else. We are the silent pandemonium that will quiet the noxious cacophony plaguing existence. Quieting all in our presence; quelling the discord in life. Our rhythm is the beat of our enemy's heart as it pumps the last of its blood and becomes still. Under our guidance, we will return the cosmos to the mute void it longs to be. Our composition will shatter all fanfare; our movement all cries. Our melody is the end.

We are the hymn of death. We are the Echoes of Silence.