The chains of our enemies bound us. The minds of our enemies forgot us. But others remembered. Others who were close at hand. The hour had finally come.

Courage, defiance, bravado... they cannot exist without a core of fear to stand over. The further a seed is buried, the deeper it will take root. Embrace the truth, or do not. Soon enough, it will embrace you.

Mastery of fear is not enough. You must know humiliation. You must be hollowed out by despair, allowing all that you are to leak out so that our union may find purchase and make you what you can be. Mercy is slavery by a kinder name. You think to gain power over us by exploiting regret or doubt or hesitation. Perhaps there is promise in you yet...

War and death will claim you even in your most cherished sanctuaries. Oceans of despair will engulf the rot in your cores. The horror and doubt you bury in your past will grasp forth, and rend your worlds asunder.

Madness has already claimed Makillda. More will follow.

Styrak may have fallen, but your victory is an empty one. We are the Dread Masters. We are your nightmares incarnate. No longer contained by the Empire or the Republic, we will terrorize the galaxy as we please. It is futile to resist. You have a choice - become one of us or be swept aside. But the magnitude of our power is more than most can bear. You must tell us why you are worthy of us. Choose your words wisely. We will be watching.