You would laugh, monster, But let me remind you.

Within that weak sack of meat and bone, uncared for by his god and wept for by none, beats a heart.

A human heart, that carries with it the strength and courage of all mankind. Within that sack of meat is ensconced the hope, the will, and the fury of every man, woman and child from every corner of the Imperium. Within that weak sack of meat, festooned in thin armor, and weapons only powerful in numbers, beats the heart of a man.

And for ten thousand years, the hearts of men have beaten, strongly, in defiance of your so called "powers". For ten thousand years, the hearts of men have stood united against a galaxy that despises them for no reason save that they had the audacity not to lay down and die. For then thousand years, your black crusades have been pushed back, beaten down and made a mockery of, by weak sacks of flesh with cheap weapons and disposable equipment.

For that weak sack of flesh that you so gleefully mock is no super soldier, no immortal warrior, no creature cursed by chaos like you. He is a man, an imperial guardsman drawn from some forgotten corner of the Imperium to fight for his species and for the safety of the people he loves.

He is a factory worker, a farmer, a storekeeper, a father, a brother, a son, a mere man. And against creatures like you, teeming and numberless, powered by the very will of thirsting gods...

He holds the line. He has held the line for ten thousand years.

So whats your excuse, monster?