The fire fades brother mine, soon the throne will stand empty. Where, then, shall man look to for salvation?
I know as well as you that the engines are dying, and the sacrifices of the priests cannot keep His spirit fettered for much longer. We must act now, before the others do. For you know what they are dreaming up. That foul being they wish to put upon the throne.
No brother they will not succeed for the keeper has seen to that. The Anointed is far from Terra and shall remain buried in his tomb. But still the flame must be kept alive. From where shall you take the fuel to keep His death at bay? The forsaken planet is lost in the empyrean, you know that, and the war-torn ruins of the Twin Worlds have nothing left to offer us.
The soul of man must sustain Him! Did He not ask us to never stop, no matter what came in our way. To throw ourselves at the blades of our enemies, to build the ramparts of our own bodies and to never falter. We must seek a sacrifice worthy of Him, let the battle be our prayer so that He, finally, can ascend and bring forth a new universe for us.
Oh brother, you preach the gospel of Sanguinius, the philosophy of the Blood. It will not succeed. Pain is not enough. We must see to our past, you know what Luna still hides deep within, the visions of the hidden sects. There we shall find the fuel to rekindle Him. I will take my leave now, but look to the sky brother, for I will return.