Take heart, my baby boy. Birth is hard, and unbearably painful. Cry if you must, as indeed you should. For this moment came from the pain of another. Your inheritance, my dear, dear boy, is more pain. But there shall be glory. By the will of Aries, more glory than not. To make your birth worth all of it.
There you go. All done. You were a spitting and wailing babe, but now you are a man. It was several moments since your brother copy fell and you were called forth, screaming and angry, from the depths of the kiln. With the memories of a thousand soldiers, your brothers. Fallen in this long and endless campaign.
There was no time to let you have a life, like that of other babes born of women. With your memories, forming as I speak, you will understand. Indeed, I see in your gaze now that you do. Look into the horizon, General. The war comes closer and we will be lost. Treachery brought down he who was your last copy. He brought us close before he was betrayed. Do you remember how he fell? Yes, I see you do. Rally your people, General. They await your command.
Your birth was a painful one, but you need not die today, dear man. You have a chance to lead a life unknown by those perished before you. I do not promise you joy. Or more time than the span of this waging battle. What I can gift you is a chance. That is the greatest thing that I can offer.
Go forth, dear son. Bring us victory. Bring us glory. Take back your life. Live!