Right now, a short. May continue on request. Not strictly Warhammer canon, but fairly close.
HERETICA
It had been overcast for the better part of a month, and this day was no different. There were gaps here and there in the gloom, but even in those brief glimpses of the beyond, the sky remained gray, as if a downtrodden sun had simply forsook the world, leaving the city to wallow in its own depression.
This was, at any rate, how Marv saw things. He'd heard people expressing their adoration of rainy days, but he couldn't ever bring himself to agree. A sudden shower was all well and good, but the roiling murk that blotted out the sky over the city was not a sudden shower. No, it was the physical manifestation of deep seated depression. Whether that depression belonged to himself, mankind collectively, or God Almighty, he couldn't be sure. All parties involved had ample cause to feel distress.
He took a seat at the window of a small corner diner, waiting quietly for a nameless waitress to take his order. From here he had a somewhat decent view of the bustling metropolis outside, and as he gazed without any real subject of interest, his thoughts turned inward.
Here, in this strange forest of iron and concrete, Marv was completely alone in a sea of human life. The hearty colonist of his home world, full of courage and gratitude for every breath had been replaced by a relentless wave of vacant faces. People alive, but lifeless, with no direction, their eyes listless, their minds empty space. This was a planet of thoughtless idiots, and Marv detested the lot of them.
His eye suddenly caught on a young woman whom had entered the diner and taken a seat at the bar. From where Marv sat, he could see that she was attractive, or would have been were it not for the horridly subdued clothing she—and all women of this era; for that matter—wore. Already knowing the outcome of the day's events, he decided to observe this young woman's reaction to what was about to be a very swiftly changing world. Her soft, naïve features would be the perfect test of his ability to inspire change.
Humanity, in Marv's mind, had lost its teeth. In its state of technological advancement, mankind had lost it's grit and cunning. Lulled into a stupor by brightly colored advertisements spewing forth from every media venue, an entire race had become complacent. The advent of vita-replication had created an infinite source of food, ending hunger and the powerful currents of dissent that it spawned. All forms of weaponry had been outlawed, and without the means or sufficient cause to kill one another, the will and wit necessary to survive had been replaced with an arbitrary, utterly static existence.
Across the street a mother shopped for fruit with her two similarly-fated children. It seemed that the gray of the overcast sky crept into her, into her spawn. Into everything.
Marv had come to this planet to find his life, full of dreams and desires, he succeeded only in fostering a growing sense of disillusionment and a powerful disdain for those members of the Imperium willing to follow obediently like so many cattle to the slaughter.
Marv took his comlink from his pocket and tapped the 6 key twice, then 4, then the send button. Across the street, an apartment complex crumpled in on itself like a house of cards, a brief spout of flame and smoke pouring forth into the heavens before all was hidden from view in a billowing plume of dust and ash. At first there was naught but silence. Thoughtless creatures, thought Marv, without even so much as the instinct to react. Then, from somewhere in the distance, he heard a scream. Suddenly, nearer, through the smog he could see the mother that had been shopping clutching the lifeless body of her eldest, stricken by a piece of debris from the explosion. From where he sat, through the haze and confusion, Marv saw something that inspired great hope.
The mother raised her child's battered head to her breast and wailed. It was a cry of utter sadness, of an empty hollow left by such a senseless act. It was the cry of life, of its appreciation and the mourning of it's passing. Yes, thought he, it was a long road ahead. He glanced over at the pretty girl at the bar to see she was now standing, her mouth agape at the chaos outside the window. In her eyes he saw what he sought. Fear. She was afraid. Alive and afraid to die. Alive.
He was determined now. He would bathe this planet in fire until every last soul on its surface appreciated the gift it was granted. The mindless masses of the Imperium would know chaos, know death and understand what it was to be afraid. There would be no complacency, no stupid crowding masses commuting from one pointless errand to the next. Every breath would be treasured, every day cherished. He had much work to do. Mankind would breathe anew, every waking moment would be a gift. He would see to it.