On the blasted ruins of a still ongoing battle…
P: Keep moving!
Γ: Where are we?
Y: I fail to see how important that is compared to our continued survival.
Ω: Yeah, good thing these guys have bad aim.
P: A direct hit from those lasers would probably only scorch the armor. Problem is that there's so many…
E: Rho where the hell are we!
Γ: Calm down Epsilon.
E: It's not easy! There's a mind shattering yell echoing in my skull that just…won't…stop!
P (Focused on Epsilon): Listen to me, what does it sound like?
E: Uhhh…Waagh?
P: Oh great…
Γ: What does it mean?
A green monster in purple armor comes around a column and spots Rho. Dodging a clumsy swing from a battleax Rho swings and severs the beast's arm, and then his head with the following strike. He then nudges the corpse with his foot.
P: Orks; big, strong and stupid, this one was particularly sneaky.
Y: You know this place?
P: Sadly; the uniforms of the dead confirmed my suspicion, these are Imperial Guardsman of the Armageddon Steel Legion.
E: Where on Earth are we now?
P: Look, we're still not on Earth and this is the year 40,950, give or take.
E: My God…
P: We'll need Him here more than anywhere else, fighting will be a constant fixture here.
Ω: Sounds like my kind of universe.
?: Identify yourselves in the name of the Immortal Emperor!
The man was holding a overly large gun and wore a hat to match, his dress was that of an officer. Catching them by surprise, they surrendered.
E: Still glad to be here Omega?
Ω: What happens now?
P: My friends, we've just been drafted.
Moving silently through the corridors of a hollowed out planet…
Helen: I should kill you for that last place we were at.
Nero: Hey, it was close, but we beat the Facestealer and got away, albeit not in any better condition.
Helen: Please, not now…
Suddenly the two were bathed in a green light from the innards of a humanoid machine. Standing taller than any normal man and having nothing that can be considered 'skin', it marched towards them. The swing from its polearm was precise but Nero evades the strike and counterattacks. It lands, causing a gash on its face. Overconfident, Nero leaves himself open for the machine's blow with the polearm's butt. Now dazed, Nero crumples over and is helpless. Helen focuses her mind on the thing, and soon it is ripped apart without a single finger lifted. Helen clutches her head in pain and yells.
Helen: Nero…are you okay?
Nero (breathing heavily) : Been worse, you seem to have problems of your own.
Helen (weak): Voices… in my head… need to leave…
Nero: Wait, that thing isn't dead! I need to relay this to Praetor, I could refit the entire legion with this regenerative property!
The machine lays down a device that when activated, swallows the the two in a field that folds space and time.