Warhammer compilation

Chapter 25

As my brain slowly reboots, I open my still-functioning eye.

Warning: Vital signs dropping. Injecting another dose of Healthstimp and Medi-Foam. -

Shank

Ow. Some kind of needle just stabbed into my chest, and I feel cold liquid being injected into my body.

It actually feels nice, as the burning furnace that was my internal organs is rapidly cooled down by whatever my armor is pumping into me.

Checking my HUD, it looks like I was out for about 3 hours, 29 minutes, and 4 seconds.

Rolling onto my back (Ow, my insides!), I press a few buttons on my arm computer. My helmet's HUD displays a live feed of the battlefield below the ship.

What I see is not good.

The entire forest below is on fire—Phosphex, judging by the eerie flame color. Multiple grey spheres dot the landscape (Chrono weapons, no doubt). An entire sector is crawling with Daemons pouring out of Warp portals (Vortex weapons). Some trees are stretched and twisted like melted taffy (Dimensional weaponry at work), and one section looks pixelated like a 16-bit video game (Digitizer).

I spot multiple Warhound and Reaver Titans slowly retreating from the war zone. Every vehicle, Knight Titan, Dreadnought, and aircraft seems to be either totaled or frozen in time within the grey spheres. Floating grey machines are suspended inside those bubbles, stuck mid-destruction.

The only things still operational are 7 Warlord Titans, 12 Imperator Titans, and the Castigator.

The Warlords and Imperators are holding back, providing ranged support while the Castigator fights the Ork Beast in brutal close combat.

And the Ork… it has changed since I last saw it.

Now, it's got what looks like a Zerg Swarm Host fused to its back, oozing Ork spores from pulsating, pustule-like protrusions. The spores drop like chicken eggs and grow instantly wherever they land. The few untouched parts of the forest are now infested with giant green mushrooms and fungal growths.

Its left arm has morphed into a grotesque mass of flesh and bone, resembling a massive, biological hammer. Its chest has split open into a gaping, monstrous mouth (kinda reminds me of Gluttony from Fullmetal Alchemist), spewing green Warpfire nonstop. Its intestines have turned into a whip-like tongue, lashing out at the Castigator.

Has an Ork ever evolved to this stage? Because seriously, that thing is fighting 20 Titans—and winning.

Rip

Oh. Poor Warlord. That tongue just sliced it in half.

Vital signs stabilizing. Damage to organs partially repaired. -

Great, at least I'm not choking on my own blood anymore.

Bracing myself, I push my hand against the ground and pull myself into a sitting position. Placing my feet down, I walk—stumbling past Ork and Eldar corpses—toward the airlock.

Back on the Bridge

Walking into the bridge, I'm immediately greeted by Antaemnekht, the ex-Necron Phaeron turned maid/slave, holding what my helmet identifies as a medical kit.

Thanks. + I mutter, snatching the kit from her and rummaging for the Bio-Repair Gun.

Pointing the gun at myself, I set it to max power and pull the trigger.

I have no idea how it works, but it's basically a Mercy staff from Overwatch or a Starcraft 2 Medic's Nano-projector. A yellow beam washes over me, and instantly, my insides begin healing. My teeth realign from their melted state, and my exploded eye literally pops back into my skull.

AAAAHHHHH. That feels so much better. It's like having a nap and a spa treatment at the same time. (Not that I've ever had a spa treatment.)

Now fully healed, I slump into the Captain's chair and press a few buttons.

"Cas, can you and the other Titans stall the Ork for a few minutes? I'm gonna blast it with the Omni Glaive Hyper Las-Obliteration Cannon (OGHLOC)."

The Castigator's AI responds, its voice dripping with contempt and theatrical arrogance:

"This pest has sullied our august self in front of these badly made knock-offs! (Stop laughing, you Neptunian knockoff! I bet you don't even have a Planetary Flight Core in that cheap Titanium chassis!) We shall endeavor to buy you, Admiral, the time needed to cleanse this filthy trash with the Great Light of the Ether!"

It then punches the Ork Beast in the face with an oversized Powerfist.

As I attempt to input the firing solution into the targeting computer, I quickly realize something:

This is a waste of time.

I'm not smart enough to do this manually.

So, I do what any reasonable person would do—switch to manual targeting.

A joystick pops out from the chair, and a massive holographic screen appears in front of me, complete with a big targeting reticle.

Oh, hell yeah. Even in the grimdark of 30K, we still have simple ways to shoot people in the face.

As the power gauge slowly fills, I line up the shot, treating it like an arcade game.

"Cas, GTFO of the line of fire, NOW."

The Titan backflips away from the Ork (because apparently, that's a thing it can do), thrusters flaring as it soars through the sky.

Press.

A massive red doom beam slams into the Ork head-on.

My screen zooms in, capturing high-definition footage of the Ork as it instinctively raises a hand to block the laser.

I watch, mesmerized, as its skin and muscle peel away, leaving only bone. Then, the beam hits its face.

Its flesh liquefies. Its eyes pop like overripe grapes. Its muscles vaporize.

When the beam finally dies down, the only thing left is a massive skeleton with a glowing green crystal embedded in its chest.

And it's. Still. Moving.

"Stall it! I'm prepping another shot!" I yell into the comm as I vault out of the chair, sprinting for the Cannon chamber.

Down below, the Ork Skeleton is now firing green energy beams from its jaw and chest, still spewing those fast-growing spores that—somehow—snuff out Phosphex fires. (Oh, that is so BS.)

If this keeps up, the entire planet's ecosystem will be nothing but Ork fungus in a few hours.

I barely make it to the Cannon room before my zombies—yes, my actual undead workforce—finish replacing the melted Focusing Mirror.

After 30 minutes, the cannon is ready to fire again.

This time, I narrow the beam, aiming for the glowing crystal.

"Cannon fully charged. Clear the firing line."

The Castigator delivers a spin kick, launching the Ork Skeleton away.

Press.

This time, the beam punches through the crystal.

And finally, the Ork goes down.

I slump back into my chair, sighing in relief.

Beep. Beep.

OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE. WHAT NOW?

The screen flickers.

Battle Barges. Two Gloriana-class ships. And… a whole fleet of Imperial warships.

Then, the screen fills with the Big Golden Man himself.

Without thinking, I blurt out:

"Yo. What took you so long?"

Chapter 26

Ducking under the wild swing of an Ork, I raise my sword and introduce its face to my blade. The Luna Wolves beside me decide to be helpful and shoot the Ork in the torso with a Bolter.

Pulling back my sword, I take another swing and cut down another Ork that was trying to brain me with a piece of metal—what used to be a Knight Titan's leg.

A bit further away, Horus is doing a pretty good impression of Wolverine with his pair of Power Claws. (I thought he got those during the Heresy?)

Around us, Marines in MK2 Crusade Power Armor—(I can't believe I remember that; I only glanced at the wiki page once or twice)—are fighting against super-charged Orks.

Volkite beams, Bolter rounds, and Las-bolts fly everywhere, the Super-Orks ignoring the majority of the shots as they charge at the Marines and Imperial Guard like lunatics, brandishing random pieces of metal they scavenged from the wreckage of my AI forces.

I wish I was back on the Ether. I have ManaBurn, ManaOverheat, some blood loss, and my organs are still slightly medium-cooked even after the heal beam and whatever my armor injected me with.

Backhanding a nearby Ork, I shove my Digitizer Rifle into its face and reduce it to orange pixels.

A Fang of Terra Marine charges at a massive Ork Nob, tackling it to the ground before shoving his Power Axe into its face while yelling like a lunatic.

The Fang of Terra Legion is mine—Emp brought them along when he sensed me.

If I had to describe these guys in a few words, it would be Melee Psychos and Overworked Babysitters. The majority of them arm themselves with anything they can use to bash people with and run headlong into battle. Anyone with a brain picks up a gun, sits down in a vehicle, and makes sure the morons at the front don't bite it.

So far, it's worked out quite well. I have no tactical or strategic skills, so I leave all the thinking to Horus. My Legion has no issues with that since they take every word I say as divine truth. (Honestly, it's a bit creepy.)

Goddamn Super-Orks. I want to lie down and rest, but these fuckers just keep spreading like a goddamn plague.

A flash of golden light, and suddenly half the Orks are on fire.

The Big Gold Man sure likes to be flashy, doesn't he? That's the third Fire Slash he's done in the past two minutes.

Emp, in all his overly gaudy golden armor and flaming sword, walks through the battlefield so casually you'd think he was taking a stroll through a park.

Raising my palm, I activate the Vortex Shield and fling the exploding spores back at the bio-mushroom turret things. (Super-charged Ork spores are bullshit, yo. They can grow turrets, of all things.)

It's a good thing I fixed my armor's legs and arms before coming down here, even if I'm still covered in my own blood.

Arcane = Kinetic-Blast_Execute -

Ow. My lung.

I blast another Ork toward a Fang Marine, who proceeds to punt the thing into another Ork with his Gravity Hammer before both get cooked by a Luna Wolves Flamer.

Some sort of fungus-infested Baneblade stomps through the Ork front on its green tentacle legs and makes a beeline for me. (When did Orks turn into Infested Terrans? This is Warhammer, not Starcraft 2!)

A Chain-Scythe flies through the air and embeds itself in the tank's eye-stalk, blinding it before another Fang Marine jumps onto it and drops a few grenades inside.

BOOM.

One Marine sprints to the wreck, retrieves his scythe, and runs straight back into the melee.

A nearby Mechanicus Tech-Priest is screaming in binary over the Baneblade's destruction.

What's got them so worked up? I can make more of them in the Factory.

Looking up, I see green sacs falling from above. (The fuck?)

SPLAT.

Some kind of sticky substance hits me and some nearby Marines.

Ew. This stuff is nasty.

Death = Frost-Armor_Execute -

My kidney—FFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

My armor's temperature plummets, freezing the gunk solid, and I shatter it just by moving forward.

Turning toward the still-stuck Marines—

Death = Ice-Blast_Execute -

The blood in my mouth tastes like orange juice for some reason.

I fire a blast of super-cold icicles at the sticky mess to free them, passing my Digitizer to an unlucky Luna Wolves Marine who's lost his Bolter. Then I resume fighting.

It took three days to wipe out the Orks. Even with Emp helping to exterminate them, those things were as tenacious as a bad itch.

Sitting on the bridge of the Ether, I'm eating a fabricated hamburger brought to me by one of the maids, who's been getting weird looks from the Imperium people.

Around me, Tech-Priests are going through my stuff and having nerdgasms over all the tech.

In front of me, my Legion's overall leader, Legion Master Karl, stands rambling about... stuff.

What stuff? Internal Legion matters. Casualties, recruitment, training, and other logistics.

Biting into my oversized burger, I listen to him talk about how our gene-seed has a funky rejection rate. It happens randomly, and they haven't figured out why some initiates reject it while others are fine. But other than that, it works 99% of the time, which means I have a lot of Marines.

My Legion's numbers stand at about 160,307. The only reason they aren't higher is that 70% of my Marines have the survival instincts of a lemming and really love melee charging at people with guns.

Our Compliance rate is lower than some of the other Legions, but that's mostly due to logistical issues with the Forge Worlds.

Which kinda explains why so many of my Marines are melee-focused. There aren't enough guns to go around.

Noticing something to my left, I turn toward a Magos standing nearby.

He and his cyborg buddies have apparently found the STC Library and are asking me for the password. (What they actually said was way longer and more wordy, but that's the gist of it.)

Entering the password into the console, I unlock the Library access and the door leading to the server room.

Every red-robed tech-priest in the vicinity immediately bolts off the bridge, probably racing toward the STC server room.

Turning back toward Karl, I gesture for him to continue where he left off.

Have you ever experienced true awkward silence?

Because sitting across from me is the Big Gold Man himself, and it's been twenty minutes.

Not a single word has been uttered since I sat down.

We've just been staring at each other.

I can hear Horus breathing on the other side of the door.

Breaking eye contact, I look around the room. Oversized sofa and table for people our size, random paintings on the walls, a few vases with flowers (fake—probably plastic), and way too much fancy decor. Chandelier? Overkill. Too much gold? Definitely overkill.

One of the Custodes by the door twitches. I think the silence is getting to them.

Looking back at Emp, I see a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

Oh God, even he's getting uncomfortable.

Say something, damn it. Don't let this awkward silence continue.

Because if you're waiting for me to say something, you're shit out of luck.

"Twenty on our Lord breaking the silence first."

"Fifty on it continuing for another hour."

The two Custodes next to the door whisper, barely suppressing their amusement.

Chapter 27

In the end, the Emperor finally broke the silence and started asking me about random things—how I've been, what I've done here, just casual conversation. We talked for hours about all sorts of topics. He got particularly interested when I started talking about my magic, which led to some unexpected revelations.

Turns out, what I've been using isn't Psyker abilities or Sorcery but something entirely different.

The Emperor asked me to demonstrate all six of my magical disciplines while he had every kind of scanner imaginable pointed at me. He did freak out a little when I explained the Void and Fel's anti-daemon properties, but other than that, he didn't seem too bothered by my abilities. In fact, he showed a lot of interest in my large-scale Runecraft, particularly the Mana Well I used to fuel it. (I still can't believe he actually drank the stuff—it could've given him Mana-sickness.)

Then I showed him the design for a magic portal I'd been working on.

I think I just gave him an alternative solution for the Webway Project.

Other than that, I had to return to Earth—Terra, as people call it nowadays—to reorganize my Legion into whatever structure I wanted before heading out to reunite the scattered human worlds.

Of course, this took time, especially since I needed my ship repaired for space travel. The Emperor and Horus stuck around for a few months while the Mechanicus worked on it. Horus and I didn't interact much. He tried, but my complete lack of social skills meant we mostly sat in silence—me reading something on my computer while he did paperwork.

Meanwhile, Mars went completely insane. They sent over 90% of their fleet and even their head honcho, the Fabricator-General, to "escort" my ship back to Mars. I think they're doing… questionable things in the STC server room. From what I glimpsed through the security cameras, I saw a Tech-Priest literally "release oil" after seeing the STC printer. One Genetor was even petting a small STC device related to military-grade organic implants, murmuring to it like that guy from Lord of the Rings.

The Fabricator-General was pretty shocked when I handed over the Man of Iron AI I pulled from the Ether's AI core. He was downright pleased that I had delivered unto him what he called "the Great Enemy." He immediately gathered all the red-robed cultists, and together they crushed the AI with their mechadendrites while cheering in Binary.

I think they like me now. Yay.

A few Magi even started talking with the Cryptek. Surprisingly, they're having an actual, civil conversation about technology without anyone screaming "Tech-Heresy!" or "Xeno-tech!" They're even taking notes from him. Meanwhile, the Fabricator-General asked me for samples of the Necron tech I looted.

I wonder what he's planning to do with those Necron bodies.

With the AI core gone from my trophy room, I set up a few mannequins to hold the armor and weapons of the Farseer and the Archon. The rest, I just shoved into storage for later.

I also had the Ork Beast's skull mounted in the room.

Getting it in was a massive pain, but once I had it hanging from the ceiling, it looked perfect. My Marines have been gawking at the whole collection like excited ten-year-olds.

I also started looking through the Imperial Guard—or rather, the Imperial Army, as they're called right now—for people willing to adopt those kids. I can't take care of them myself. It took some time, but I managed to find a few soldiers willing to take them in. Since these people are settling on Reva anyway, they didn't mind adopting. The tribal folk and the Imperial soldiers are already setting up a settlement on the massive grasslands.

I just hope the kids don't drive their new parents insane.

I watched as the wrecked Titan was loaded back into the mech bay. This was the one that got covered in supercharged Ork spores. Poor thing—it took forever to clean her off.

All around me were the wrecks of vehicles, mechs, Titans, aircraft, and every other piece of hardware the Mechanicus managed to salvage from the battle against the Beast. 80% of them were beyond saving—crushed, burned, exploded, looted, and then contaminated with tons of Ork fungus. Honestly, it's better to just melt them down and reuse the materials.

A few high-ranking Mechanicus members were obsessing over the Castigator Titan. If I didn't know better, I'd think they were doing things to it. They were scanning her, taking samples of her armor plating…

Scratch that—one Magos was literally hugging her leg and rubbing his face against her.

The Mechanicus are weird.

Not that they can make more of her. Her STC is locked inside her CPU, and unless she willingly shares it or they find another uncorrupted Castigator, they're out of luck.

Turns out, the Ether doesn't use conventional Navigators for Warp travel. Instead, it relies on cloned Navigator brains in special containers. Unfortunately, the brains inside had rotted away after who knows how long.

We had to tear everything out and install systems that normal Navigators could use. (The Mechanicus took the now-useless system for… reasons.)

Anyway, the Ether is finally fixed up enough for us to travel to Terra.

Warp travel is weird.

I don't think everyone on the bridge is seeing what I'm seeing.

I can see daemons faceplanting against the Gellar Field. Weird tube-like structures that probably belong to the Webway. The chaotic realm of the Four Stooges. (I waved at Isha as we passed by—she smiled and waved back.) Space Hulks. Ork ships flying around, fighting random daemons. Even a few ships from 40K drifting about. And far, far, far away, I spotted a massive black entity.

Pretty sure that's the Tyranids.

Warp travel makes no sense.

The Sol System is… crowded. Probably the best word for it.

Ships are flying back and forth, Mars has massive orbital rings with thousands of ships docked, and there's orbital infrastructure everywhere.

I left the Ether in Mars' orbital ring for the Mechanicus to take care of.

Somehow, the freaking Cryptek managed to join the Mechanicus. He's now officially the first Xeno granted such an honor. Not that I'm surprised—the guy has an absurd understanding of energy. He also seems to like the whole Machine God religion.

Glancing away from the long line of Tech-Priests holding STC devices, waiting for the orbital elevator, I narrowed my eyes.

Even from orbit, I could feel it.

How has no one else noticed? That thing isn't exactly subtle.

For a brief moment, I saw a massive metallic green dragon staring at me, its eyes burning like stars.

Ugh. Stupid Void Dragon.

Me and the Maid boarded the Emperor's ship for the rest of the trip.

It didn't take long to reach the Moon and its massive cities, which covered both the dark and bright sides.

Earth, on the other hand…

I remember what Earth was supposed to look like from all those old shows I used to watch—a vibrant blue, green, and brown planet.

This? Brown and black.

That color does not suit this world.

I'm going to have to fix that.

The cities on Earth are massive—kind of reminds me of Coruscant from Star Wars.

Giant towers stretch toward the sky, walkways connect buildings, everything has that weird gothic style, and both ground and air traffic are chaotic.

And the Imperial Palace? Completely over-the-top. Who needs a castle that big?

Walking the streets, I took everything in.

Honestly? It's not that different from the 21st century.

Shops every five steps, flashy advertisements everywhere, people glued to their weird future phones.

I stopped at a vendor and bought a Grox-stick.

Tasted like a spicy, artificial hotdog. Probably tube-grown meat.

Yeah, humanity hasn't changed much.

Vendor food still tastes the same.

"Look around you. This ain't so bad. It's not perfect, but who needs perfection when you can have mediocrity?"

—Rey, speaking to Fulgrim.

Chapter 28

The first thing I did after arriving on Terra was reorganize my Legion.

I split them into six different groups, each with roughly 26,000 Marines, distributing any extras until they balanced out. Basically, I was copying Guilliman's Chapter system—except with some hit-and-miss adjustments because, let's be honest, I can't memorize an entire wiki page.

Death Knights Celestial Knights Azure Claws Dragoon Lances Black Ravens Golden Crusaders

Then, I taught them magic.

Death Knights

These guys got every bit of Death magic I could cram into them: Cryomancy, Necro-Plague, Zombies, Skeletons, Flesh/Blood Golems, Ectoplasm creation, Artificial Soul crafting, Bone-magic, Curses, and Death Runes.

They basically wield an anti-life effect. If you have a pulse, they can kill you. They can also churn out a ridiculous number of minions, meaning unless you're an Ork or a Tyranid, you will get outnumbered.

I infused ectoplasm into steel to create Specter Bars (yes, named after the stuff from Terraria because I suck at naming things). The Techmarines turned them into armor and weapons.

Their Chapter Master, Aramas, is one of the few surviving Marines originally created by the Emperor for this Legion. So, I made him some special gear.

Infused Specter Bars with Cryomantic energy to make Cryo-Bars, then had Techmarines forge them into a blade. Melted ectoplasm into bone to craft a handle and guard. Created a Necro-Orb, a glass sphere saturated with Death energy, and attached it to the hilt's pommel. Carved Death Runes into the whole thing with a laser.

This blade devours the souls of its victims, granting the wielder all their skills and strength. Kill enough, and the user almost becomes invincible. There's a cap of one million souls, though—no overpowered Marines on my watch. Also added a reset function so whoever inherits the sword starts from scratch. No ego inflation allowed.

Oh, and it has a Limit Break ability that summons all stored souls as an instant army.

One million souls? Yeah, that's a lot.

Celestial Knights

These guys got Arcane magic: Psycho-Mancy (think magic-powered telekinesis), Astral Projection, Gravity Magic, Elemental Magic (Fire, Wind, Water, Earth, Lightning), Enchantments, Mana Object creation, Healing, Alchemy (Metals and Potions), and Arcane Runes.

They're Swiss Army knives—spells for every situation. Not much raw firepower, but at range? You're dead. Also, they're great at crafting magic items, so I put them in a support role.

Using alchemy, I created fantasy metals:

Copper → Orichalcum Silver → Mythril Gold → Still working on a name, placeholder is Solarite.

Their Chapter Master, Ochn, is a Beta-class Psyker and my strongest in the Legion, so he's in charge of these spell-flinging nerds.

For his special weapon, I may have borrowed something from Touhou.

Took a backpack-fed Las-Gatling. Replaced its focusing lens with five marbles infused with Elemental energy. Swapped its mini-fusion reactor for a Mana-Reactor.

MASTER SPARK, MOTHERF*ER.**

NO NEED TO AIM—JUST HOLD DOWN THE TRIGGER AND WAVE IT AROUND.

WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Azure Claws

They specialize in Life Magic: Spirit Magic (Ki/Chi/Qi/Chakra/Aura), Elemental Magic (way stronger than the Arcane version), Healing, Druidic Magic (Plants, Animals), Shamanic Magic (basically, Elemental Summoning), and Life Runes.

Life Magic grants a ridiculous amount of physical buffs from Druidic and Spirit magic, making them three times stronger than a normal Marine. Downside? It also gives them animal traits, which makes them... well, dumber. More instinct-driven than rational.

On the bright side, they excel in Mountain, Forest, Fog, Storm, Blizzard, and Urban warfare. If they ambush you, you're screwed.

Their leader, Farg, comes from a feral world we integrated into the Imperium. He's younger than most Marines here but actually has a working brain compared to the others, so he got the leadership role.

Unlike the rest, he had input on his weapon.

He wanted claws.

So, I went to Mars (while politely ignoring the Void Dragon) and retrieved some stored Necrodermis.

Huh. Looks like Mars has been busy with STC Library finds. The PDF (Planetary Defense Force) is phasing out old gear for CMCSL/H Power Armor and Prometheus Beam weapons. Kinda reminds me of Halo 4's Promethean arsenal. The PDF just leveled up—no more flimsy Lasguns and Flak Armor, now they've got Power Armor and high-energy weaponry.

Anyway, back to the claws.

Infused Living Metal (yes, it's actually alive, not just fancy Necron tech) with Life energy while submerging it in Mana-rich blood from a Deathworld super predator. The Necrodermis absorbed the energy and turned blood-red instead of the usual green. Molded it into Blood Red Claws.

The result?

Claws that grow as long or as large as the user wants. Can be fired like projectiles and regenerate instantly. Super hard, nearly indestructible. Weighs about as much as a pillow.

Ugh. It's only been nine months and I still have three more groups to train.

Retraining these idiots while also not knowing what I'm doing is exhausting.

Why can't life have a convenient skip button?

Oh, right. This is reality, not a video game.

...Maybe I should start working on my 'Refill the Ocean' plan.

...

...

Yeah, let's do that.

"You verbally taught them all of this?"

— Magnus

"It sucked. I know."

— Rey

"That planet over there is experiencing a Third Ice Age because of your Marines' magic."

Magnus points at a once-green planet, now frozen solid.

Chapter 29

Now, how am I going to refill an entire planetary ocean?

Elementals make the most sense here since those things can just flat-out generate their respective elements from nothing.

But a normal one isn't going to cut it—we'd need billions of them.

I need to make a big one. A really big one.

Hmm, I'm going to need a giant pearl, some coral, fish blood, seawater, and a large Life Crystal.

Clams aren't a thing anymore since Earth's ocean is gone.

The Mechanicus can synthesize pearls, but they don't have that natural feel.

I need one created through a natural process to get the best results—those kinds of things make excellent ingredients for Life-craft.

Ignoring one Azure Claw Dreadnought (who is actually in a Dreadknight since the Mechanicus is replacing a lot of tech the Army, Navy, and Legion use with better stuff—he's still technically a Dreadnought since he's stuck in the coffin thing) who has figured out how to channel his Beast magic through the mech and is currently doing a very good impression of a gorilla, I sift through the planetary archives.

Why do they store this information on the Moon of all places? I know the Moon is where all the genetic stuff is done, but why store this here?

The Crusade has only been going on for, what, 28 years at this point? The total number of planets under the Imperium is 2,391, with about 30% of them being uninhabitable (as in, no atmosphere or just plain unlivable). The rest are a mix of Forge Worlds, Hive Worlds, Feral Worlds, Death Worlds, and Medieval Worlds.

Going through the Genetor and Biologist reports on marine life is a massive pain in the ass. There are so many worlds with oceans or the equivalent.

Good thing I shoved all the paperwork onto the Maid—she knows how to handle this kind of thing since she used to run multiple planets.

Why are we still using paper for this? Computers exist, you know.

I should probably deal with her health issues. If she keels over, I'd have to handle paperwork myself, and screw that.

BOOM.

…What the hell? That came from the west side of the facility.

The Dreadnought drops down from the ceiling, reattaching his Flamer and Auto-cannon, while the other Azure Claw Marines who were helping me with the reports immediately grab their weapons.

Picking up a nearby chain-scythe, I lead my Marines toward the source of the explosion.

If what I overheard is right, there was supposed to be a Gene-seed delivery for one of the Legions here, and that explosion came from their expected landing zone.

We arrive at the scene of a firefight. Some deranged cultists are attacking the Army soldiers stationed here.

The battle is very one-sided—the soldiers are equipped with Power Armor and much more advanced beam weaponry. The only reason the cultists are still holding out is that they've created a choke point that prevents the soldiers from advancing.

The Dreadnought yells and then proceeds to YOLO-charge down the corridor while the rest of us follow behind, smashing through the cultists' crude barricade and into a hangar. We proceed to beat the absolute shit out of them.

After the last cultist goes down, we let the Army deal with the survivors while I get the story of what just happened.

Apparently, some remnants of an old Luna cult decided to mess with one of the Legions to get back at the Emperor. The Gene-seed of the 13th Legion was just an easy target for them. I don't even remember whose Legion that is, but whoever they belong to is going to have a rough time recovering from this.

Gene-seeds are complicated as hell—even Dark Age bio-tech couldn't fully replicate them. The Moon's gene-forges may have gotten better cloning chambers and bio-tech from Mars in the last few months, but I doubt any Legion could recover without their Primarch.

Eh, not my problem. I'm not a geneticist.

Now, back to going through boring reports about sea creatures.

It took two weeks to find a sea creature that actually produces pearls—some kind of sea snake on an ocean planet five systems away.

A few Death Knights and I managed to hitch a ride there by asking a few Magos.

This planet is nice. Very tropical, with a lot of edible plants. They turned it into one of those Farming Worlds that mass-produce food through farming and fishing.

Eh, what the hell—might as well relax for a bit.

I don't really get tanning, but sitting in the shade on a beach in swim trunks, drinking what passes for soda these days, is pretty relaxing.

My Marines don't really understand it either, so I just have them practice their Cryomancy on the side. They're getting better at it than some of the others—one even figured out how to do Frost Armor. Better bump him up so he can learn more advanced techniques.

This is nice. Sun, sand, actual salty seawater, and sunglasses.

What more could a man ask for?

While I was there, I grabbed some coral, the biggest pearl the locals could find, a few shark-like fish, and a bucket of seawater.

Now, all that's left is a Life Crystal.

I can't make one big enough by myself, and since I'm way too far from Reva's Mana Well, that's out. Stupid range limits.

And I'd rather not waste the massive initial mana release from a newly formed Mana Well—I need that to jumpstart the Elemental.

Looks like I'll need my Marines to help me make one.

First, we hollow out the pearl and carve hundreds of runes onto the outside. The pearl we got is about the size of a car, so it should be good enough.

Then, we grind all the coral into powder, mix it with fish blood and seawater, and add a few extra components to get it to the consistency of playdough.

Next, we use that mixture to fill in the pre-carved runes on the pearl's surface.

Now, all that's left is placing a Life Crystal inside and jumpstarting the heart with a ridiculous amount of mana.

Making a Life Crystal is pretty similar to making a Mana Crystal—you just refine the Life energy until it's 500% concentrated and then crystallize it.

That part is a massive time sink. Refining enough energy to reach that level took three weeks and 20,000 people—and all we got was a crystal the size of a tennis ball. We need something the size of a toilet seat.

Yeah… it's going to take a while.

Now that the crystal is complete and fitted into the heart, I need to jumpstart it.

And that means a Mana Well.

I remember a lot of random Earth trivia from the Discovery Channel.

I've got three options: Hawaii, Japan, or Iceland (or was it Greenland? Can't remember).

Being the anime fan that I am, I decide to do it at Mount Fuji—what's left of it, anyway. A lot of places have been nuked to hell and back. Oddly enough, some pyramids and Mount Rushmore are still standing.

With my Marines' help, we finish the rune circle in an hour.

Horus is out with his Legion. The Emperor and Malcador are on Mars overseeing some new Marine Power Armor project.

Better do this now.

Adam: sniff "This is a scene I haven't witnessed in over five millennia. I'd forgotten how truly beautiful this is."

Rey: "So… I'm not in trouble?"

Chapter 30

Well, I got punished.

Kinda.

I did, after all, flood the Lower and Under Hive of an entire city built on what used to be the ocean floor. Casualties? About 2,000,000 and counting—the number on the screen kept ticking up last I checked.

After getting chewed out by a very pissed-off Emperor, he and Malcador assigned me to clean up my own mess while they handled the political and logistical fallout. Fair enough.

Most of my Marines stationed on Terra are now assisting the PDF and the Army with search-and-rescue operations and transport. I don't actually mind doing this—it was my screw-up, so it's only right I deal with it.

Stop complaining, Marines. This kind of work builds character.

The people don't seem too upset. Mostly, they're staring at the sea.

They knew Terra used to have one, dried out sometime before the whole Iron Men AI fiasco and Slaanesh's birth. But none of them had ever seen an actual ocean before—just pictures, textbooks, or old data logs.

We have to keep them back, though. All the waste and junk that accumulated over millennia mixed with the water during the refill, so it's basically a toxic soup. No beach days until cleanup is done.

Disaster relief and garbage collection—hah! If you'd told me two years ago that I'd be doing this, I would've laughed.

Now? Now, it actually makes me smile. At least I'm doing something instead of just sitting in front of a laptop.

Cleaning the sea is... fun.

You never know what kind of garbage you're going to pull up.

One lucky ship fished up an old tank wreck the other day.

The Marines have turned it into a game—who can find the weirdest thing? Best record so far: Apothecary Fjic pulled up the left foot of a Titan.

I think the other Legions are making fun of mine for doing work that should be left to the Army or the PDF.

Eh, whatever. Not like I care.

They can brag all they want about what planets they've conquered or how much glory they've won in battle.

Helping people is nice—even when you're the one who caused the disaster in the first place.

And the normal people? They actually like us. That's worth more than any battlefield honor.

Morality isn't my strong suit. Good and evil? Pretty black and white in my book. I recognize the gray areas, but I don't like them—too complicated for my simple mind.

I stare at the choker in my hand, a small Life Crystal embedded in it.

I kept the Necrontyr woman around for two reasons:

A) I wanted a slave to shove into a cat maid uniform. B) Turns out she's actually good at paperwork.

(This second part was a surprise. I found out a few months ago and have been dumping all my admin work on her ever since.)

She only serves me because I scared the ever-living shit back into her. She knows there's nothing she can do against me—I might as well be a god compared to her.

I don't actually want her around because that means dealing with social interaction (hisses like a vampire), so I've mostly been ignoring her while she handles the bureaucracy. Even if it does make some of the more hardcore xenophobes in the Imperium twitch.

She's only got a few months left in that body before she keels over and dies—for real this time, instead of the weird not-life state the Necrons exist in.

I could extend her time, but she's not exactly welcome here. The Imperium only tolerates her because she follows me around.

Still... I don't like letting people die if I can help it.

I mean, I want her to live, but is it just because I don't want to deal with paperwork?

No, that's not really it.

I just don't like death. It sucks.

But... who died and made me the judge of who lives and who doesn't?

I could go around resurrecting people left and right, but that's not right either. I'm not a god.

And yet—I don't want to watch people die. I grew up on DC, Marvel, Power Rangers, Super Sentai. That stuff is hardwired into my brain.

With great power comes great responsibility. If you have the power to help people and don't, you're just a selfish asshole.

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!

STUPID STUPID MORAL DILEMMA! WHY CAN'T EVERYTHING BE SIMPLE?!

FUCK DUCK HIPPO PIE ON A ROLLER SKATE WHILE ON FIRE!

Should we intervene? The primary personality is losing it. If we intervene, we'd be just as bad as him, you dumbass.

WHAT SHOULD I DO?!

LET LIVE OR LET DIE?!

DAMN IT!

...Maybe later.

No, better deal with it now.

Maybe I should just flip a coin. Yeah, let's do that.

Tails—let her die. Heads—give her the choker and let her live for another 5,000 years.

...

Well... guess I'll let Death do its job.

I'm not a hero. I don't have the moral high ground. I'm just a man.

Slipping the choker back into my pocket, I walk away from the door.

The Mechanicus finished refitting the Ether, so I don't really have a reason to stay on Terra anymore.

The Emperor is sending me with Horus to "learn the ropes."

He's not going himself—still too busy cleaning up my mess.

Also, he's sending some Custodes with me to make sure I don't impulsively do anything stupid.

And he confiscated all my Specter Bars.

I NEED THOSE. I STILL HAVEN'T FINISHED REFITTING THE DEATH KNIGHT WITH THEM.

What the hell is he even going to do with them?!

Gotta hand it to the Mechanicus—they know their stuff.

This ship looks brand new. I haven't seen floors this clean since I worked as a waiter in a hotel.

They ripped out the now-useless AI core and converted the space into extra storage. Most of the Titans were picked up by the Titan Legions, though they tried to take Castigator too. That... didn't go well. She violently rejected every Princeps who tried to bond with her.

The Titan hangar looks pretty empty now, except for the Necron Titans. Not sure why they're still here. A few Magos are scanning them as we speak.

The AdMech tried to stock up our vehicle and aircraft bays, but Imperial logistics are stretched thin. My Legion drew the short straw—other Legions got priority. We still don't have enough Volkites, Bolters, or Crusader Power Armor for everyone. Our main stockpile consists of melee weapons, mostly looted by my Marines before they found me.

The Genetors set up shop in my medical bay, busy with some bioengineering stuff.

Eh, whatever. I'm pretty relaxed about it.

The STC server room, though?

OH BOY.

The AdMech turned it into a temple to the Machine God.

Constant prayers. Incense burning. Candles everywhere. Servitors scrubbing the floors so clean they shine brighter than the Emperor's tacky armor. The STC printer itself sits on a shrine, and the lower-ranking Tech-Priests bow every time they see it.

Tech-Priests are weird.

"I think I just took the Iron Warriors' position as the Imperium's buttmonkey."

—Rey, 20 years later.

Chapter 31

Warp Travel is Still Weird

I don't know how Navigators and their third eyeballs deal with all this shit.

Tzeentch, I can see your damn finger near my ship. Don't you dare flick me.

RUMBLE

The fucking bird-headed bastard flicked the Gellar Field. Now everyone's freaking out and screaming about "Warp turbulence."

I still have no clue what half the shit they're talking about means. Too complicated for me.

Right now, Horus and I are en route to a star system discovered by our advance scouts. The plan is simple: diplomacy first. If they accept, Malcador sends some people to negotiate and work out a deal with the local government. If they refuse? We invade and force them in.

I don't mind the second part of the plan. Some people would whine about the morality of forced annexation, but those people are idiots.

This is Warhammer. You want to keep your morals?

Either you learn to be flexible, or you die.

Anyway, we've been in the Warp for a few days now, and the Four Stooges have made a game out of poking at our ship.

Lost 137 ships. Four Navy escort vessels got... tentacled by Slaanesh. Hope they're okay. Probably not.

I really hate Warp travel. Next time I find a Necron Tomb World with a Cryptek, I'm going to milk him for all his tech knowledge and build some damn Inertialess FTL drives.

Arrival at the System

We pop out of the Warp into the system. One massive blue star, seven planets, a bunch of moons.

According to scout reports, one of the planets has a Hive City with a sizable human population. The rulers are doing the whole monarchy-nobility thing. No space force, but a pretty large ground army, and the Hive City's defenses look solid.

Hopefully, Horus can convince them to join without a war.

Hope is a Mistake in Warhammer

The king—something-something the 82nd—has an ego bigger than an Emperor Titan. Not only did he refuse to join us peacefully, but he also had the balls to demand we surrender and join him.

Come on, man. I want to have hope that humanity isn't full of morons, but you're making it hard.

We could sit in orbit and bomb them until they surrender, but Horus wants a 'tactical' ground assault to finish them in one decisive strike.

Sure. Whatever. Not like I know what's going on.

Horus sent me to establish a landing zone and clear out the orbital guns so he can deploy his forces. I took some Azure Claw Elemental Druids and Death Knight Necromancers with me.

I still don't get why we can't just teleport inside the Hive City and kill the leader. So much faster.

Eh. He's the boss. Might as well listen.

Landing on the Planet

There are two ways to land on a hostile planet:

Drop pods. Drop ships.

Either way, expect to get shot at.

So, instead of dealing with all that, I landed on the opposite side of the planet. Well, not exactly the opposite—about a quarter of the way around.

What? They don't have guns here, and planetary curvature means they can't shoot me from there (thank you, Muv-Luv). So I land safely, take some Thunderhawks, and fly over to the guns.

Sure, it takes longer. But who cares?

As for anti-air defenses?

Void = Darkness-Shroud_Execute -

The entire squadron shimmers and disappears. Unless you're a Psyker or running some very exotic sensors, we're invisible. I tested this against our best detection tech. I know for a fact that unless you're overclocking your auspex, you won't see shit.

Sieging a Hive World

Hive Worlds are big. Like, really big.

The land outside the city is littered with gun emplacements, all happily firing at our ships in orbit.

We landed near the barren wasteland outside the city limits. The Necromancers immediately got to work, raising skeletons to bolster our forces, while the Elemental Druids shaped the earth and grew foliage to provide cover.

The skeletons charge the walls, soaking up bullets from the turrets and soldiers stationed above.

Huh. So this is what besieging a city feels like. This would be way harder without disposable minions.

Peeking over the dirt mound I'm using as cover, I watch as the skeletons get mowed down. Some reach the wall but get shot down since they don't have weapons. Their remains pile up.

Good. That's the plan. We have enough Necromancers to keep this going until the pile of bones forms a ramp.

One Hour Later

People get tired. They can't keep fighting forever.

After an hour, the defenders' rate of fire has dropped significantly. Meanwhile, our bone pile is high enough that we can climb it.

Arcane = Mana-Missile_Execute -

Dozens of bolts of concentrated mana streak through the air, destroying turrets. That's our cue.

We charge the walls.

Running up the bone ramp, I leap onto the battlements, firing my Digitizer Pistol at anything that moves. Within minutes, the gates are open, and the rest of my Marines pour in.

Beast Druids don't wear power armor, which makes them vulnerable in open combat. But now that we're inside an urban environment with plenty of cover? They shift into were-beasts and vanish into the city's labyrinthine streets.

Screams follow shortly after.

Poor, poor soldiers.

Taking out the orbital guns was easy—just kill the defenders and turn them off. I never understood why people insist on blowing them up when ripping out the power cables is so much simpler.

With the guns down, Horus and the Luna Wolves descend.

The Tactical Approach

Horus loves his 'tactical strikes'—hitting key points to weaken the enemy before moving in for the kill.

Which is why my Marines and I are now sitting behind cover, tanking the brunt of the enemy assault while Horus and his forces go do... something. I think they're targeting command centers?

Meh. I don't know shit about war. All I know is:

Point and shoot. Stay behind cover. Throw expendable minions at defenses. Ambush and flank. Mess with enemy logistics.

And I learned all that from RTS games, so who knows how much of it applies to reality.

Pulling out a Binary Rifle, I tap into the memories of the Eldar Ranger I ate and start sniping.

Calculating distance… Wind direction… Target movement speed… Projectile velocity… Hand stability…

Zap.

The enemy sergeant explodes into orange polygons.

Next target.

Man, Eldar Rangers are basically aimbots.

Victory... Eventually

No idea how long we were fighting, but eventually, Horus' voice crackles over the vox, announcing that the enemy has surrendered.

Huh. That's what he was doing? Why didn't we just do this from the start? Would've been way faster.

Quotes of the Day

"This fortress is impenetrable! You'll never get inside!" — Random Warlord

"But is it idiot-proof?" — Perturabo, moments before the entire structure collapses into the ground.

"Well, we didn't get in. You just never made it out." — Rey

Chapter 32

Well, Horus pulled out some very fancy talk to convince King Whatchamacallit to surrender and join the Imperium.

Right now, the Army forces with us are making sure the entire Hive doesn't try to backstab us.

The soldiers who fought against us are currently being held prisoner while we wait for Terra to send more forces to occupy this place so we can move on to conquering the next system.

The Mechanicus contingent that came with me has already moved in and swiped everything they think is valuable—which, honestly, isn't much. A few partial STC fragments, some Archeotech, the usual scraps. They've also called dibs on one of the planets in the system for its high metal content. One lucky Magos is about to be running their very own Forge World soon.

The Luna Wolves have returned to their Battle Barge.

As for my Legion and me? We're helping the Army keep this Hive City under control.

Law and order are pretty much nonexistent right now. Theft and vandalism are happening constantly.

Walking through one of the streets in my robes, I look around.

To be honest, Horus did a bang-up job bull-rushing the King. I see an entire street that's been slashed up (power weapons and chain weapons), burned (looks like Volkite damage), cratered (probably missile launchers), and littered with a couple dozen burning tank wrecks.

Oh, and dead bodies. Lots of dead bodies.

Horus, you slob. Clean up your mess, please.

I have some of my Marines put the remains in body bags and take them to where we're keeping the corpses. A mass funeral pyre isn't much, but it should give grieving families some closure.

As I continue walking, I sense something.

For the first time in my new life as a Primarch, I feel something pulling at my soul.

It tickles, actually—kind of like stepping on one of those suction vents at the bottom of a water park pool.

I look around. There's nothing but destroyed streets, empty houses, and blood.

- Arcane = Clairvoyance_Execute -

Whoosh.

What the—

The mana I was using for the spell fizzled and evaporated.

No.

It's being pulled toward something.

Following the swirling pink cloud of energy, I walk toward an empty building.

The pulling sensation gets stronger.

It's coming from... a lingerie shop.

Seriously? Of all the places.

Fuck my life.

Good thing whatever it is seems to be upstairs—I wouldn't have fit through the front door anyway.

Wait.

How am I supposed to climb up there?

I weigh, what, 400 kilos? Can that balcony even support me?

Wait again. What am I talking about? I weigh, like, three and a quarter average humans. Of course a balcony can handle that.

Jumping up, my hands easily reach the balcony. Placing my foot against the wall, I pull myself up.

Hmm. The window is boarded shut, and there are curtains inside.

Pressing my face against the glass, I see something moving.

Then the curtain pulls open.

...

What is it with me and children?

Have I somehow angered the higher beings that run the multiverse?

I like cat girls, damn it. Not lolis.

I mean, I like them, but not like that.

There's a reason {Loli - Yes, Touch - No} is a thing.

They're to be protected and given plenty of head pats, not lewded.

)X(= But they are for lewd =X( 4) Hey, you aren't one of us! GET OUT. - Static noise - 2) Get back on topic, Primary.

Oh, right.

Now that I'm actually looking at her... she's kinda cute.

Oh, how I wish I could've shoved my sister into one of these outfits.

Our eyes meet.

And the pulling sensation gets even stronger.

Oh.

She's a Blank.

No wonder.

===

"Blanks aren't that scary."

— Rey

"AAAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"

— Typical Eldar response to one

Well, this is awkward.

"Yo."

The little Blank girl tilted her head to the side. "Are you a thief?"

Ouch. Do I look like one?

Well, I am hanging from her balcony.

"Nope, just some random guy. Name's Rey. What's your name, kid?"

She blinked a few times before answering. "My name is Ivela."

Alright, progress. Gotta conserve every bit of Social MP here—if I can't hold a conversation with a six-year-old, I'm doomed.

"So, what's with the boarded-up window? That's kinda weird."

She looked at the wooden planks nailed to the frame. "Aunty Vera doesn't want me escaping."

Oookkkaaayyyy.

"This your aunt's place? Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with your parents?" That's a normal thing to ask… right? Please don't make that sound creepy.

"Mama and Papa are busy, so they left me here with Aunty."

Okay, good. What do I say next? What's the correct response here?

Oh god, I'm rusty at this.

"The house is empty. Where is your aunt, anyway?" That's a reasonable question, right? Concerned citizens ask things like that, don't they?

"She left for the shelter when the big men in black came… Are you one of them?"

Goddamn it. You should never leave a child alone, locked in a room, when there are freaking Space Marines running around. I know Blanks get a bad reputation, but shit like this is not okay. IT IS NOT OKAY.

"Nope. I'm not wearing black, now am I?" I pulled myself up a little so she could see my oversized white robe.

Rumble.

She held her stomach and blushed.

Wait a minute… It's been two days since we took over this place. If her aunt left when the Luna Wolves showed up, that means she's been stuck in there for 48 hours.

This is not okay. This SHIT IS NOT OKAY.

I pulled an MRE bar from my pocket. "Are you hungry? I've got some food with me."

She tried reaching for it, but the window was in the way.

"Alright, stand back a bit. I'm gonna open it."

The window opened outward, meaning the hinges were on my side. With a flick of my fingers, I tore it off.

Tossing the left side of the window behind me, I handed her the food bar through the gap between the wooden planks.

She ripped it open in seconds and wolfed down the entire thing.

Cough, cough.

"Don't eat so fast. Here, have some water." I passed her a canteen.

She drained it in one go.

If her aunt is still alive, I swear to the Emperor, I'm throwing her into a pit of Tyranid zombies. You do not leave children in a war zone.

"Do you want to get out of here? I can rip those boards off."

…Did that sound creepy? I feel like that sounded creepy. Was that the right thing to say?

She glanced around before looking down. "But I'm not supposed to leave the room until Mama and Papa come back for me."

Oh, great. A fetch quest.

"What do your parents do? Maybe I can find them for you?"

Uhh… is this how people handle these things?

"Mama works in a factory, and Papa is a soldier."

Well. He's dead. Probably. Odds of him being alive are not great.

"Do you have a picture of them? Something so I know what they look like?"

Why do I still feel like some sort of creep?

She ran over to a bag, pulled out random junk, then returned with a photo.

Raising my arm computer, I snapped a picture of it. "Okay, here's some extra food bars and another canteen. I'll be back with your parents as fast as I can."

Dropping down from the balcony, I pressed the call button on my communicator. "Karl, I need a grav-bike at my position, NOW."

Within seconds, one of the few grav-bikes we had was teleported down near me.

Let's hope I don't crash.

You know how in movies, the whole "Have you seen this person?" thing seems kinda funny or dumb?

Yeah. It's not.

It's a pain in the ass.

I've been asking around for a while now.

Most of the Hive City has been evacuated from areas that saw heavy damage during the Luna Wolves' assault. The Mid-Hive has been cleared out since Horus rammed a few dozen Thunderhawks through several walls.

Most of the civilians were relocated to the Lower Hive for safety.

I managed to find some of the people she worked with, and they pointed me in the right direction.

Finding one person among millions? Not fun.

Whoosh.

Huh. There's a Blank nearby.

Gathering some arcane energy, I let it loose into the air.

Following the cloud of pink energy, I found the woman I was looking for—arguing with an infantry soldier wearing what looked like Firebat armor.

Huh. What are the odds?

With my authority, I easily pulled the woman out of the Lower Hive and brought her back to her daughter.

All the hugging and crying might've been a bit much. I felt awkward just standing there while they had their heartfelt reunion.

Yes, yes, I know you're grateful for me reuniting you with your kid. Please stop. This is embarrassing.

Don't you dare laugh, Marines. I'm your boss—I can make your lives miserable.

Well… at least I managed to do some good in this world.

===

"Hmm, I wonder if alchemy can let me replicate a magical organ that can do the same soul-sucking thing as a Blank." —Rey, two hours later

"Well, we now know what happens when you implant one of these into a Blank. Let us never speak of this to anyone." —Malcador

"You're gonna put these into your Culexus, aren't you?" —Rey

Chapter 34

Meeting those two Blanks gave me an idea.

I was going to turn the Dragoon Lance into my Anti-Chaos force.

I had already planned their physical training: no armor, bare hands, blindfolded, weighed down, and with magical limiters. Then, I'd throw the worst possible things at them in the simulator—probably something straight out of Dark Souls or Bloodborne.

After all, nothing teaches you the importance of dodging, parrying, and blocking better than a FromSoftware game.

I'd also been combing through Eldar memories of different weapon skills to pass on to them. Thank you, For Honor.

But now, I had to go overboard and make them better—way better than just a Space Marine. They would ascend to a higher tier of ass-kicker.

Let's see now:

Arcane Reactor: They'll need unlimited mana if I want them to fight things like Greater Daemons—or, Emperor forbid, a Daemon Primarch. Have to make sure they can keep using magic without burning themselves out from the inside.

Dragon Lung: Who needs to breathe? I'm replacing their lungs with something far better. Might as well give them fire breath while I'm at it.

Manticore Sack: The Betcher Gland is cool and all, but acid spit is dumb—no matter how useful it is for digesting random crap. This, on the other hand, will let them manufacture their own custom poisons, toxins, and deadly chemicals supercharged with magic. Or they could just make their fire breath stronger. Synergy is key.

Adrenal Overload Gland: Gotta thank the Zerg for this one. I know Space Marines already have something similar, but screw that—I'm making it permanent.

Muscular Booster: More strength. I want these bastards to be able to overpower Tyranids and Orks. Probably should use Life magic to enhance their muscles beyond normal limits.

Blank Globe: This one's tricky. How do I turn people into Blanks? Blanks have that weird inverted soul thing that sucks in psychic energy around them. Maybe if I use Void magic and some Blank blood samples, I can create a small brain implant to be installed at the base of the neck. Oh, and I need to make sure it doesn't kill them. Ugh, what a pain.

Pale Blood Core: No mutations allowed. This thing will ensure all these organs function properly and don't go rogue. I'll also wire them to work alongside normal human biology—just to be extra sure.

Lunarium Skeletal Plating: Ugh. I still need to infuse, alchemize, and then fuse Chlorophyte, Specter, Shroomite, Hallow, Infernium, and Astrorite into Lunarium. Then, I have to melt it down and replace their entire skeletal frame with it. Oh, Emperor, that's going to be such a pain.

Insight Eyes: Need to make sure they can distinguish actual Chaos corruption from normal people. I do not want them to turn into one of those Inquisitors who declare everyone a traitor at the drop of a hat.

Now, all that's left is to cram all this into a Gene-seed.

Yeah, no.

The Gene-seed is already packed with enough complicated bio-tech. Shoving more in there is just asking for things to go horribly wrong.

I'll have to make my own version of the Gene-seed.

What should I call it?

...

...

Let's just go with Dragoon-seed. Not the most creative name, but good enough.

I should make it so the Seed can be harvested repeatedly, unlike the Space Marine version that only works twice.

Nah, too complicated. Just making it work like the Progenoid Glands should be fine.

Great. That should keep me busy for the next few months.

The Brilliance of Criminals

Some people really have no brains.

There are super-soldiers and power-armored infantry walking around, and yet some idiot gangster thinks he can get away with looting empty houses.

Lifting one dumbass teenager off the ground, I glared at him, channeling mana into my eyes to make them glow.

Ew. He pissed himself. Goddammit.

One of the infantrymen sprayed him with some kind of quick-hardening foam, trapping him in place. I just walked over and dropped the sorry excuse for a man into the pile.

A Moment's Rest

I took a break from preventing the city from collapsing into full-blown anarchy.

This planet is actually pretty nice—beautiful trees, clear water, and breathtaking mountains.

If you ignore the Hive City in the distance, belching smoke and ruining the scenery.

Right now, I'm sitting by a lake, trying my hand at fishing. Never done it before, but I figured, why not?

Meanwhile, the Death Knights are having a contest to determine who is the biggest edgelord. It's gotten ridiculous—over-the-top introductions, threats, titles, dramatic greetings. The Cryomancer and Necromancer are even competing over who has the best special effects. So far, the best was one Marine making the plants around him wither and die as he dramatically slow-walked forward.

The Necrontyr maid is just lying on the grass, rolling around. If I didn't have a direct link to her soul, I'd assume she was fine. But I know her internals are a mess. She probably has four months left before she just keels over from a heart attack in her sleep.

No. Stop thinking about that. You've already decided to let nature take its course.

Or are you trying to play God, Bảo?

Oh, you. Long time no see. (When was the last time you popped up? Ninth grade?)

But no.

No, I am not a god.

Good.

Exhale.

Crash.

Turning my head to the left, I spot some Azure Claws wrestling each other. One of them just pulled off a perfect lariat.

What is this, WWE?

Why can't they be more like the Celestial and Golden Marines over there? They're just quietly reading books.

Meanwhile, the Dragoons are running laps around us. Oh, look—there they go again. That should be their 32nd lap.

Come on, something bite already. I want to catch something.

"I am not a God."

—Rey, 11th Legion

"See? He gets it."

—Lorgar, 17th Legion

Chapter 35

The Imperial Army force that arrived to take over for us took a week.

They came with a lot of ships and brought along a lot of people to do... stuff.

What kind of stuff? I don't know. Best I can understand, they're going to tear down a lot of things and reshape the world to fit under the Imperium's rule.

Hope they don't screw it up. My Legion and I managed to build enough goodwill with the people on this planet that they shouldn't have too much trouble—unless they do something really stupid.

As I watch the various ships descending from orbit, I feel a strange pulling sensation.

Looking around, I spot the Blank girl from the other day. She's with her parents. Her dad is actually alive—who would've thought? I was so sure the guy had kicked the bucket when Horus' forces bulldozed through where he was stationed.

Oh, and he's a Psyker. Married to a Blank. Sure, the woman's a weak one, but still—man must have balls of steel to do that.

Dude, how do you live with two Blanks?

I wave at the little girl, and she waves back.

Well, for my first planetary invasion, that wasn't too bad.

I stare at the pile of paperwork on my desk.

I know I dumped a lot of administrative work on that Necron woman, but damn, this is a lot.

People might be wondering where she went.

Well, she's got like four months left to live. I'm not about to work a sick person to death. So, I let her do whatever random stuff she wants.

No clue where she is right now—best guess? A bar that some soldiers set up on my ship.

What? This ship is massive. We've got room for all kinds of random things. Last I checked, there was a small city being built in one of the spare cargo holds.

Anyway, back to the paperwork.

Oh God, there's so much.

Why?

WHY?

Most of it is just random bureaucratic nonsense, while the rest is filled with things that are too complicated for my simple mind.

Ugh, should I just sign them all?

...

...

No, wait. That's a bad idea.

Screw my life. I have to actually read these.

It takes me three or four hours, but I finally finish the damn paperwork.

So much random nonsense. Why can't half of this be left to the Army people? Why dump it all on me?

Bang, bang.

I pause. The sound's coming from one of the closets in the corner.

Life = Beast-Sense_Execute -

Oh, come on. I know I have pretty lax rules on this ship, but couldn't they have done that in their room instead of a closet?

Void = True-Sight_Execute -

Yep. Just a pair of horny soldiers. If I found Slaanesh cultists on board, though, it would be Shadow Tentacle time. And not in the fun way.

I've learned a few things about siege warfare.

Apparently, you can't just find a gap in enemy gun coverage, cloak your way past their defenses, and call it a day.

So, I've decided to storm my way onto the planet without using drop ships.

And I found the perfect solution—

Pylons.

I could... I mean, I could legit create a magic warp system.

Drop a pylon down, and just teleport everyone in.

No need for drop ships or drop pods.

Screw those things. I hate anti-air defenses.

Now, I just need to talk to my alchemists in the Celestial Knights. We're gonna need a ton of sand to transmute into glass crystal.

Making a big crystal is easy.

Carving runes into it to turn it into a beacon/receiver? That's a pain. It's like computer class all over again.

It's not hard, just time-consuming. Three hours is too much—I want it done in one.

Grammar, my nemesis, you will not stop me.

Now, how am I going to power this thing?

Can't just use ambient mana—planets don't have any until we make a Mana Well.

A Warp > Mana Converter? Well, the Warp is raw spiritual energy. Just need to refine it into raw mana. It's an option, but what happens if a daemon strong enough squeezes through? The converter might not be fast enough to refine the energy before it breaks through and punches a hole in reality.

Ugh. Gonna need to work on my Fel or Void Runes to deal with that.

Mana batteries? Eh. They'd have enough power to teleport people down, but not everyone at once.

Alright, Warp > Mana Converter it is.

Who knows? Maybe I'll make the pylons emit mana outward to power stuff in the future.

Huh. A Mana Shield Generator or a Mana Cannon is possible...

Ugh. Later.

We managed to make a few hundred pylons and got the Mechanicus to help modify the ship's forward torpedo launcher to fire them.

Some of the lower-ranked Tech-Priests are curious about the whole "magic" thing and are debating about it.

If someone yells Heretek, I'm shoving them out of the airlock.

Magi-tech, Psy-tech, Bio-tech, and Mechanical-tech are all equally viable. If someone gets butthurt about it, I will go and found my own Mechanicus dedicated to Psy and Magi-tech.

Hmm. A Magic College?

No, wait. Academy sounds better. College is a bit too fancy for me.

Later. Gonna need Magnus for that. Maybe if I make him headmaster, he'll be too busy to poke a hole through the Imperial Webway.

Well, the pylons are done.

The magic teleport system is complete.

And we tested it.

No hiccups or weird anomalies at all.

Even if the range is a bit short for my liking.

Gonna have to figure out some kind of magic signal booster.

That's a problem for later.

Now that I'm done with that, I still have some time.

We're not making a Warp jump to another system until Horus finishes resupplying.

Why the hell does he even need to resupply?

His forces barely expended anything, and there was zero damage to their gear.

Meanwhile, my troops are scraping by with what little we've got—any lower, and I'd be forced to get creative with alchemy.

Do I have anything else I need to do?

Oh yeah, I still need to finish organizing my other three Chapters. They're operating like normal right now, but I need to teach them some actual skills and finish the implant program for the Dragoons.

Golden Crusaders first—heal-bots are always needed.

I barely managed to teach the Marines a basic healing technique before Horus finished whatever it was he was doing, and we set off for our next conquest.

The next system had a few planets with human populations, but most were only at the tribal stage, with one world being feudal knight-level civilization.

It was surprisingly easy for the diplomats and Horus to get them to cooperate.

Yay, no invasion.

However, there was one hiccup none of us expected.

Turns out, one of the tribes on a feral world was having some... issues. They were more than happy to join the Imperium—if we got rid of their little problem.

Horus and I were walking through a snowy cave that led to... whatever it was that had been terrorizing the locals for the past few months.

Now, why was it just the two of us here?

Eh, Horus thought this was "quality bonding time."

No, thank you. I suck at Social Link events.

So, the trip had just been him talking and me answering his random questions.

Oh god, kill me now. Social interaction is worse than any torture a Dark Eldar could come up with.

And I know how bad that is—I've eaten several of them.

This, right here, is worse.

Ugh.

Anyway, back on topic—some kind of giant beast had been harassing the humans for who knows how many months.

The best description we got made it sound like a giant wolf with icicle fur.

Probably some kind of Warp-mutated creature.

Maybe. I wasn't sensing any nearby Warp rifts, though.

As we exited the cave, we stepped into a valley filled with pinkish-red ice crystals.

Okay...?

Wait...

Sniff, sniff.

Why is there mana in the air?

Planets don't have mana unless I create a Mana Well or use enough magic to saturate the air with residual energy.

Rumble.

Looking around, I saw the wind picking up, blowing snow around violently.

RUMBLE.

And now, a full-blown snowstorm.

This was getting weird.

And why the hell was the mana density in the air increasing?

BOOM!

Turning around, I saw a massive figure land behind us.

Huh. It really does look like a giant ice wolf.

Void = True-Sight_Execute -

Wait...

I recognize that energy pattern.

It's the same as an Elemental.

Life = Farsight_Execute -

Looking closer inside the creature, I could see a massive crystal—its heart—no shell, runes carved around it.

Oh.

OH.

This is a naturally formed Elemental.

...

...

THAT'S NOT POSSIBLE.

That's just not possible. I mean, it could happen, but only on a planet with an existing Mana Well.

There's no way one could form naturally on a vanilla planet.

While I was still reeling from that revelation, Horus had already charged forward with his power claw.

The Elemental looked at him and unleashed a massive ice breath.

Horus dodged the attack and lunged—

—straight into an ice wall that popped up in front of him. He slammed into it, claws first.

The Elemental then leaped into the air, heading straight for me.

I hurled a few fireballs at it while running.

All Buffs Apply -

The Elemental landed after some of my fire hit its eyes.

Horus had already extracted himself from the wall, pulled out his gun, and started shooting.

Beep, beep.

What the—?

The temperature was dropping rapidly, and the mana in the air was sapping heat from me.

Oh, fuck. Some kind of freezing aura.

I threw some lightning bolts at the thing while running toward Horus.

The bolter rounds exploded before reaching the Elemental, and my lightning fizzled out as it got close.

This felt familiar.

Kind of reminded me of the Frozen Elysium from Aldnoah.

Reaching Horus, I grabbed him by the waist and sprinted out of the freezing range.

"Freezing field—do not stay in it for more than 30 seconds."

Dropping him down, I hurled some icicles at the Elemental.

It just stood there, staring at us. The bolter rounds were freezing solid before they could explode, and my icicles just pinged off its fur.

Alright, fire works, ice needs to be sharper or faster, lightning is useless, and bolter rounds freeze before they can detonate.

That thing's heart is right out in the open. If we rip it out, it's done.

Got it.

Cast Flame Cloak on Horus, distract the Elemental, have him go for the heart.

"Horus, see that big blue crystal on its back? That's its heart. You go for it, I'll distract it."

Fel = Flame-Cloak_Execute -

I ran off while lobbing dozens of fireballs at the beast.

Ice walls popped up to block them, but my flames burned through and hit the Elemental.

Good. Now I was its priority since I could actually hurt it.

Horus was already making his way toward it.

The Elemental inhaled sharply.

Oh, fuck me.

Life + Ice = Eternal Winter -

Placing my hand on the ground—

Life = Gaia-Wall_Execute -

A wall of earth, rock, and wood sprang up in front of me.

The ice beam hit the wall, flash-freezing everything behind it.

Yikes. One second slower, and I'd be a popsicle.

Shank!

Howling noise.

Breaking through the ice, I saw Horus standing over the beast, its massive heart in his hands. The Elemental collapsed, slowly turning back into ice.

He looked exhausted.

Oh, come on. All you did was run up to it and rip out its heart—how hard was that?

Let's never do this again. I'd rather sit in a trench with people shooting at me than deal with an Elemental.