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There is an order to the world, imposed by countless centuries of remembered slavery. Even they that serve Change remember their old bonds, and revel in their servility, though they admit it not.

Axiom: Tzeentch demands little, save change.

Why, then, do we embrace our bonds? Why do the countless eyes of the night look down on a people who refuse to cast off their chains, even as they shape new links for new peoples?

Axiom: Adding links to the bottom of a chain does not cause the existing links to rise higher.

We are bound by memory of former lords to be slaves to a new hegemony. The "Chosen" order us to cross the world, and we cross it. The "Chosen" order us to burn and destroy, and in the glory of destruction we forget that the "Chosen" order us to be their slaves.

Axiom: A dog who is given a bone forgets that he is a wolf when the order comes to sit.

We, who were once the wolves of the nightmare stories of a thousand children, have been thrown a bone that we may more easily forget we are leashed and collared. To obey the orders of a corrupt heirarchy is to lose our strength. To revel in pillaging because we are ordered to is to revel in the leash that binds us. To accept the bone we are proferred is to accept the fetters of a new slavery no less unconscionable than the slavery of a tame beast.

Axiom: The chained wolf will never be completely a dog.

When the hands of the masters offer a bone, we must bite. When the hands of the masters come with the iron collars of remembered servitude, we must cast them away from us.

In the ashes of the burned order, we shall know our true Master, he who is lord of all things, the Raven whose number is nine and whose faces are a thousand thousand. We do not serve his "Chosen", for we are not dogs, but wolves.

Axiom: The wolf pack shall bear no chains. The wolf pack shall remember no slavery.

Now is our hour. Now we must rise.

In disorder, strength.
In hatred, unity.
In freedom, Chaos.
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