Install Steam
login
|
language
简体中文 (Simplified Chinese)
繁體中文 (Traditional Chinese)
日本語 (Japanese)
한국어 (Korean)
ไทย (Thai)
Български (Bulgarian)
Čeština (Czech)
Dansk (Danish)
Deutsch (German)
Español - España (Spanish - Spain)
Español - Latinoamérica (Spanish - Latin America)
Ελληνικά (Greek)
Français (French)
Italiano (Italian)
Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
Magyar (Hungarian)
Nederlands (Dutch)
Norsk (Norwegian)
Polski (Polish)
Português (Portuguese - Portugal)
Português - Brasil (Portuguese - Brazil)
Română (Romanian)
Русский (Russian)
Suomi (Finnish)
Svenska (Swedish)
Türkçe (Turkish)
Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
Українська (Ukrainian)
Report a translation problem
Does that mean that life is meaningless? Was there even any meaning in our being born?
Would you say that of our fallen comrades? Their lives—were they meaningless?
No, they weren't!
It's us who gives meaning to our comrades' lives! The brave fallen! The anguished fallen!
The ones who will remember them are us the living. We die trusting the living who follow to find meaning in our lives! That is the sole method in which we can rebel against this cruel world!
My soldiers, rage! My soldiers, scream! My soldiers, fight!