There's nothing.
There's not a single thing I have to say to you, you high lords and holy men. Bastards, the lot of you.
We all are.
It's almost funny, from down here. You work and work every single day, you struggle so, so hard to stay alive, to keep your head above water. And for what? This?
Ha, no. For the sons of whores above, the bastards who sit and sip from crystal glasses, the men who dictate the lives of thousands on a whim. I was there once, did you know?
I used to be angry, oh, yes. So, so terribly… angry. I want more, I deserve more, why has this happened to me? I think… I think I should be, still, but it's hard to tell. Everything is just sort of… drained.
Now? Nothing.
…
Forget I said anything. It hardly matters. Nothing does, anymore.
It's all going to play out the way it was supposed to, the way we all knew it would. Why don't you give up? It's true, I hold no love for those fanatics. The Emperor will save you. Hah. I would laugh, if I were capable of it anymore.
They're not coming for me. Or if they are, it'll be long after I'm dead at your hands. That's our way. If I had to count every time my squad burst in, found one of our own dead and broken, anywhere from minutes to days too late…
And the sleep you promised… the warmth… if I even were capable of being tempted, I would consider it. But there is nothing in this pit, this wet place, this trench filled with corpses.
I knew them, I did.
Had I the energy, I would tell you every one of their names.
It would, yes, it would be so easy to just give in. Lie down and sleep. Pain, stagnation, disease. The dead won't remember, and the living don't care. Why not? Give in. I've been used all my life, a puppet by the mighty lords and ladies, a scapegoat, a bit of cannon fodder… use me. I'm all used up, you see. Worn clean through. Why not be used again? If your father's one that can use ragged, worn-through men…
It's all we've ever known, it's true. It would be so, so nice, at last, to just lay down my head, forget. Let someone else do the thinking, spend the effort, bear the consequences. Go here. Do that. Kill those. Sleep.
I would, I'm sure. But I can't go, you see. I've still further to fall. Do you want to know how I know?
I still scream when it hurts.