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"Brother? You are no brother of mine. My brothers were forged in battle, proven on the field, their armor scarred and dented long before they earned their titles. You are nothing in their presence. You stand there, taller and stronger, having never set foot on a battlefield. Everything you are was handed to you, free of effort or accountability.
When I became an Astartes I had already served the Emperor for years, for entire lifetimes. I left everything I ever was behind, survived the most grueling trials mankind has ever conceived, and then rushed into the jaws of death without the benefit of your shiny plate. I emerged as the chosen of the Emperor, a warrior purged of imperfections by the fires of righteous battle. My purity comes from my actions. Where does yours come from? The empty promises of a heretical tech priest.
Do not insult my intelligence. You are not come to serve or assist. You are here to replace. The old guard will fade away, our corpses rotting and our memories collecting dust while you and yours parade around and take our glory for yourselves. My brothers will die on the altar of your vanity, and everything we have ever done will mean nothing. Do I question the words of the primarch? Of course I do. Anyone would question the judgement of a man who has slept for ten thousand years.
Despite it all I shall still fight at your side. I will do my duty as a servant of the Emperor. When the fighting starts, I will watch your back. But know this, young one. I shall never call you brother."
- attributed to Captain Mahalliel Vesta of the Dark Angels addressing a Primaris sergeant, ca. M41