Woah, it's certainly been a while, hasn't it? XD

Anyway, after retiring from ByB, I have finally returned to give you my latest story. It unabashedly takes inspiration from Warhammer 40K's "The Game" fanfic, featuring a chess match between a badass commissar and Tzeenitch. Yeah, it's as awesome as it's sounds.

Anyway, enjoy.

Disclaimer: Warhammer 40,000 and Fire Emblem belongs to their respective owners.


Boyd was a powerful warrior, in all sincerity.

The end of the Goddess' War in Tellius that raged on for seven months was finally drawing to its conclusion: twelve brave warriors, including the likes of Ike, Micaiah and Mist, were on the very top of the Tower of Guidance, waging battle with the Goddess of Order herself, Ashera.

One could make the strong argument that Boyd was the best Beorc warrior in all of Tellius, only matched by Ike – Boyd reached the peak of health endurance, strength, speed, skill and defense a Reaver could possibly reach, and even becoming a third-tier warrior was an achievement into itself, considering the death-defying mastery that came with being such.

But even Boyd – despite tying with Ike as Tellius' best Beorc warrior – was on the very verge of death. The deity that stood before him – Ashera – left a major blow on Boyd with her all-powerful magic. Boyd's only feasible weakness was his resistance to magical attacks; he's so used to dodging them that it likely doesn't matter, but Ashera's divine spells hit with such reliable accuracy that not even he could dodge them. And soon enough, he was barely alive before this damned goddess. Thankfully, she too was weakened enough for a final blow, but unless some greater god intervened, somebody was going to die.

"You have the audacity to challenge a goddess? Pitiful." Ashera said, clearly mocking Boyd. "Now perish from this earth, unclean ones." With that said, a bright energy began emitting from the goddess.

"Watch out, everyone!" Micaiah cried. "She's charging up another judgement attack!"

"Boyd, get out of the way! Please!" Mist cried on the sidelines, clearly concerned for Boyd, and for a very good reason; she was in love with him.

Boyd and Mist's relationship evolved from a bickering friendship to an unbreakable testament of love over the course of two wars and three years; both young adults made it all too clear that they were willing enough to die for the sake of the other, though both Boyd and Mist fear the day that it would become a reality.

Unfortunately, that day was today.

"BOYD! WATCH OUT!"

As soon as Ashera unleashed her judgement attack, Mist gave Boyd a full heal with her Mend stave. Boyd felt all the broken tissue and wounded flesh healed just like that, putting Boyd back in top condition – and enough strength to survive a direct blow from Ashera's judgement attack.

Unfortunately, Mist wasn't as lucky; as soon as the blast dissipated, Boyd was greeted with the view of Mist's smoldering corpse right in front of him. It was also at that moment that Ike's charged attack was enough to defeat Ashera, but there was only one person his horrified expression was focused on, and he said that person's name:

"MIST!"

He – alongside a good chunk of the twelve brave heroes – rushed over to Mist, and began shaking her body desperately. "Oh goddess, are you okay Mist?! Please, answer me! For the love of the godd-"

"Y-You're okay… please… t-tell me you're okay…"

Boyd looked on in horror as a bloody, fried 17-year old Mist cried a single tear. Boyd was mostly fine as well; aside from some slight burns, he was mostly in one piece.

"I'm… I'm fine." Boyd choked, trying to hold back his tears.

Mist was as well, but the very least she could do if muster up one final smile. "I'm so glad…" she whispered heavily.

And like that, Mist was no more.

Boyd couldn't believe this was happening. Both lovers have survived two wars, endless onslaughts of soldiers, feral Laguz and the divine themselves. She wasn't supposed to die like this. Not here. But it was happening. The 19-year old Reaver fell onto his knees, visibly shaken by the tragedy and the horrific realization: the love of his life was dead.

Boyd began crying for the first time in a very long time; he hasn't cried since his youth, but now, he was weeping in pure agony. Everyone around Boyd was either crying like her or angry that this had to happen, but one thing was certain; there would be a lot of mourning at her funeral.


Six months had passed since then. Boyd was now 20, and thanks to the power of the outrealms, he was going in between different dimensions with one goal in mind; find a way to rescue Mist.

At Mist's funeral, the entire Greil Army was there. Everyone, from war hero to common grunt offered their condolences for the only major loss the army ever had. As soon as Mist's grave was cleared and everyone offered their final respects, only Boyd and Ike remained. Boyd remembered feeling Ike's shoulder grip onto Boyd's as he gave advice to the Reaver:

"You have to move on. She doesn't want you in agony, Boyd."

To hell with that. He wasn't going to let her sit down and die, not when the practically infinite expanse of the outrealms potentially held at least one cure for resurrection. All the other timelines he wandered into had some sort of resurrective stave, but all of them had only one charge, and that charge had been used. The alternative was necromancy, and Boyd sure as hell didn't want to let Mist be resurrected like that.

Soon enough, Boyd found his way into a grim darkness of the far future, a dimension incessantly at war between its own denizens. A bright light flashed in a dark cavern, and Boyd would set foot on this strange dimension – this was in thanks to an "Outrealm Talisman," which allowed for exploration of alternate realms without having to worry about finding a gate. Magic at its finest, in all sincerity.

And Boyd wasn't even five steps in before weird stuff began happening.

"I sense a deep agony within you, mortal." Boomed a hellish voice. Upon hearing said booming voice, Boyd immediately drew his blessed axe, Urvan, from his back.

"Who's there?! Show yourself!" Boyd barked.

Demonic laughter howled throughout the dark cave. "That's a nice axe you have there. I like axes, truth be told." Suddenly, a towering red demonic figure clad in bronze armor appeared before Boyd in a haze of fire. "Now, let us see if we can – oh."

Initially a calm and demanding voice, this strange demon lord immediately faltered at the sight of Boyd. "Oh, uh… whoops. Sorry traveler. I thought you were native to our dimension. Um, my bad." The demon lord gave an awkward cough before resuming. "Listen, you really shouldn't be in this dimension, it is not fun. My daemons won't kill any extradimensional travelers, but the resident space marines won't know the difference…"

"Oh, uh… okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay then…" Boyd trailed off awkwardly. "Say, what's your name? For someone as intimidating as you, you certainly are being affable with me."

The red-scaled demon lord – or rather, demon god smirked.

"I am Khorne, the Chaos God of Blood and War. My followers worship me as the Blood God, the Brass Lord of Battle, Arkhar, Kharna-"

"…I think I get it, thanks." Boyd cut off, growing a little disturbed by this strange demon god's many names. However, he seemed nice enough; whether that was because of his interdimensional heritage or it was an act is left to be decided, however. Despite his wariness, Boyd smiled.

"Hey, want to have a meal with me? We could get to know each other before I have to go."

Khorne blushed a little – though definitely not apparent, considering his deep red scales. "Oh, I appreciate it, but I, uh… kinda have to do my job as a Chaos God. You know, devour souls, slaughter innocents, that sort of thing."

"Come on, how about a quick bite to eat?" Boyd smiled. "If you really are being honest that you have no quarrel with an extradimensional like myself, then I'd be happy to put on a truce."

If Boyd lived in this dimension, he might as well have killed him then and there. But then Khorne had to consider the agreement between the Chaos Gods not to attack extradimensional visitors; their quarrel mainly rested in this universe. Hells, even the four incarnations of depravity had standards. So why not abide by this mortal request? He could shave a few seconds of his life eating with him.

"Eh, why not. Besides, knowing what your dimension's food tastes like would be interesting, to say the least."


Khorne still couldn't believe it. He was having tea-time with an extradimensional mortal.

The Chaos God of Blood wasn't all that hungry, however; he had his fair share of human blood and flesh to get him through the day, unlike Boyd, who was literally wolfing down his bacon sandwiches and other assortments of food.

Speaking of Boyd's incredible hunger habits, he immediately spoke up. "You gonna eat that?"

"Oh, no." Khorne coughed. "You could have it if you want."

"Alright!" Boyd immediately began nibbling on Khorne's steak. "So, uh… I have two questions. For one, why didn't you attempt to kill me up front when we first met? Secondly, what's your line of work like?"

Khorne shifted around awkwardly. It was one thing to commit genocide on an entire planet day after day in an endless feast of blood, but having a normal conversation with someone as shockingly normal as Boyd was awkward. He was so used to this dimension's inhabitants being so flawed, so easy to manipulate, so… well, for the better lack of words, screwed up. Having someone as confident, idealistic, and completely sane like Boyd brought up a tension Khorne wasn't necessarily used to.

"Well, to answer your first question, the Chaos Gods made a pact with each other – as do all gods of other dimensions, to be precise. We aren't to attack extradimensionals such as yourself, and can't make pacts with them unless they desire it so. So while we have free reign in this dimension, we cannot interfere with yours."

"I see…" Boyd said, while eating. "…and the second question?"

"Well, my line of work is… bloody. Gruesome. Comes with being a Chaos God, in all sincerity. You see, I love to brutally torture billions of victims, eat their eyeballs as they scream in agony, and… and…"

Khorne immediately saw Boyd's utterly horrified look on his face.

"…oh. Uh, sorry. Was that too graphic?"

Boyd – in both horror and disgust, immediately lashed out. "Hell yeah that was graphic! Why do you do this to innocent people?! I may be an axe-wielding one-man army, but even I draw the line between pragmatism and pure sadism! Sheesh!"

Khorne – naturally feeling rather offended – immediately counters. "Okay, look, when your job resume literally says "devourer of worlds and souls," you have to live up to those expectations SOMEHOW!"

"Spare me! Give me a good reason why you have to do this!"

"Gods need prayers, you dolt! It likely applies to your dimension's gods as well! We manipulate mortals for favors such as resurrection for a REASON!"

"Well then, tell me why-" Boyd immediately stopped. "Wait."

Did he just say resurrection?

"Wait, what?" Khorne spat, now rather angry. "Well?! Out with it, you imbecilic mortal!"

"You said resurrection, right?" Boyd said, immediately forming a plan in his head how to proceed. "And you also said you accept pacts from mortals if they're willing, yes?"

Khorne blinked. "Wait a minute. You're not actually implying that we…"

"Yes, I am." Boyd nodded. His serious expression enveloped to a calm, collected smirk. "Let's have a competition."

Khorne was stunned. Given how generous the pact made between gods were on extradimensionals, he didn't think anyone would be stupid enough to risk their souls for something like this. Still, it greatly amused him; Boyd was likely to be a major caliber above the other mortals he manipulated in this dimension, given how kind of an upbringing he had. With that said, he made a loud cackle.

"You're funeral, grasshead." Khorne grinned. "Name the terms, rewards and game."

"Fine then, I will." Boyd nodded. "We'll have an arm wrestling match; nothing external will be involved except our strength and strategy. If I win, you'll not only resurrect my lover Mist, but you'll leave this dimension alone forever. If I lose…" Boyd trailed off. "You may have my soul."

Now Khorne was extremely interested. It was one thing to be challenged to a game of chance (which he could manipulate probability to win) or even chess (which he was impossibly good at), but an arm wrestling match? That was extremely unusual, considering he is the strongest of the Chaos Gods. But he couldn't help but accept this match. Considering Boyd was capable of splitting boulders and iron chest plates in half, this would prove to be an extremely intriguing match. Needless to say, Khorne grinned happily.

"Very well, mortal." Khorne sneered. "I accept your challenge."


After making some muscle preparations, Khorne summoned a demonic table composed of hellfire and agonized souls, alongside two equally-demonic chairs. Khorne sat on the obviously larger chair meant for him, while Boyd sat on the smaller one. Boyd gave a cocky grin and placed his lemonade drink on the table.

"Put that drink away." Khorne ordered. Boyd complied; with a mischievous grin, he placed the drink closer to his chest.

"No! I meant AWAY away!" Khorne barked.

Boyd place the drink to his chest, yet on the table.

"Damn it all, just place it somewhere else!"

Boyd moved the drink to the corner of the table, where it started.

"WHY IN THE NAME OF THE ELDER GODS ARE YOU NOT PLACING THAT DAMNED LEMONADE AWAY?!" Khorne howled, creating a storm in the Warp that made more than a few psykers go insane.

"Because you didn't specify where." Boyd chuckled.

"ARRRRRGH! FORGET IT!" Khorne howled. After composing himself by taking deep breaths, he placed his arm in a wrestling position, making Boyd do the same. Both had a fiery spirit in their eyes; one thing's for certain, whatever happens next will be a major event for their respective universes.

"On three, tough guy."

"Fair enough, mortal."

Both parties gave a fierce glare.

"One…"

"Two…"

"THREE!"

The match almost ended as soon as it started. Khorne put all of his demonic might into one crushing sweep, pushing Boyd back to his end very quickly; rather than grinning that he had Boyd on the edge of defeat, Khorne's reaction was the opposite.

He was shocked.

With the force of Khorne's swing of the arm, it would be not only enough to win him the match, but gorily obliterate his opponent's arm as well. Boyd's right arm should literally be a gory mass of broken flesh at this point, and his soul would've been as well as his.

But it wasn't. And that's what shocked Khorne, that Boyd was holding on.

The more Khorne looked into Boyd's eyes, however, the more apparent the reason was. Boyd was literally at peak physical strength for a human, but he possessed something almost nobody in his universe had alongside his raw strength; a faith and confidence in himself, enforced by his will to survive and sheer, unadulterated determination to bring back his loved one. That was something not even Space Marines possessed in a future as horrible as this one, and that's what was causing Boyd to hold on for dear life; his sheer, unbridled determination.

The more Khorne tried to force his way through Boyd's determination, the more he resisted, infuriating the Chaos God even further. Eventually, he met the sweating, bulging Boyd in the eyes and glared at him.

"Mortal, do you even have the slightest idea who you're dealing with? I am Khorne. The stars bow before my demonic might, the very fabric of time and space dances when I wish it to. I am eternity and infinity. The alpha and the omega. And I am especially the embodiment of raw strength, and I will not let a puny mortal like yourself -"

"Best you? Seriously, you talk too much." Boyd cut him off with a cocky grin, before grabbing the lemonade and splashing it in his eyes.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" Khorne howled, sending tremors through the warp. "MY EYES!"

Boyd then used the opportunity to nail Khorne in the crotch.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! MY CROTCH!"

Boyd then slammed the stunned Khorne's arm back to his side of the table.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! MY… my… arm."

Pain gave way to horror as soon as Khorne realized Boyd won.

Without hesitating for a moment, Khorne let loose a mighty roar, and summoned a demonic battle axe which he placed literally inches from Boyd's neck.

"YOU ACCURSED MORTAL! YOU CHEATED!"Khorne howled in pure fury. "HOW DARE YOU BREAK THE OFFICIAL-"

"Rules of this fight?" Boyd grinned, not flinching an inch at Khorne's colossal axe. "That's the thing; it's acceptable."

Khorne was so baffled by that statement that he raised his axe from Boyd's throat. "Have you gone mad mortal?! There were no official rules saying that such foul sportsmanship was allowed!"

"That's the thing though," Boyd smiled smugly. "I only mentioned that there'd be no external support except for two special occasions. What were those?"

"Why, those were strength and… and… strategy." As the Chaos God trailed off, his eyes widened to the size of saucer plates.

Oh, damn. Khorne thought, a far cry from his booming and hellishly regal voice.

"You catch on quick." Boyd grinned. "Now normally, strategy wouldn't be accounted for in an arm wrestling match. But for all the strength I have, I was still no match for the embodiment of strength himself; I could hold on, yes, but only so long. That's why I used strategy – as unfair as it was – to beat you at your game… and it was not against the rules."

Boyd crossed his arms, incredibly smug. "I still win, Khorne. A deal's a deal."

A large part of Khorne wanted to go into a berserker rage. Hell, he wanted to blow up whatever damned planet they were on. But a demon must still honor his pact, even if he loses, and that horrified Khorne; he didn't lose to a god or an archangel, but a mere mortal young man with a huge axe. That… was embarrassing.

As if in a PTSD-induced trance, Khorne snapped his fingers and just like that, a certain brunette cleric was brought before Boyd's very eyes.

"Wh-Where am I?!" Mist echoed. "I thought I died and – EEEEEK!" Mist squeaked as he felt Boyd rush up to her and hug her.

Or, more specifically, began crying tears of joy. That was the second time Boyd cried in a long time.

"You're alive," Boyd croaked. "Thank Ashunera you're alright."

Mist softly smiled, also welling up in tears. "I'm so happy to see you too, Boyd." Without hesitating for one additional moment Mist pulled Boyd into a deep, heart-moving kiss that served as a testament to their love.

It was so sugary that Khorne wanted to vomit.

After a few five minutes of joyous laughter, kissing, and catching up – and Khorne still in his PTSD-esque state – Boyd and Mist were hand-in-hand, with Boyd giving the happiest grin he's had in six months.

That didn't stop Mist from wanting more answers though. "So… how did you bring me back? And who was that scary red demon-man?"

Boyd smiled. "I'll tell you once we've reunited you with your sister… and especially after we snuggle."

A final cascade of joyous laughter filled the otherwise dreary cave, and with the Outrealm Talisman, Boyd and Mist warped back to their dimension. And they've done it just in time, too; Khorne finally snapped out of his PTSD-esque trance to be back to his eye-twitching, barely-constrained angry old self.

Truth be told, however, a small part of Khorne was happy. He was somewhat happy the couple got back together in the end, and being kicked out of mortal affairs in his universe was a nice change of pace.

But that was still a very, very small part of him.

As soon as he could, he let loose a skyward scream. The fury of his demonic vocals echoed throughout the Warp, causing Psykers and Chaos Sorcerers alike to go mad at his voice. The subconscious order of the cry caused all Khorne daemons to begrudgingly turn back to the warp. The cheers of millions of Khorne-besieged worlds echoed throughout the galaxy, and for the first time in centuries, the God-Emperor of Mankind smiled – as much as one could for someone hooked to an ancient life-support machine.

Statues and worship would be offered to this strange messiah who purged the most militaristically-dangerous Chaos God from their world. Nobody knew who he was, or what he was like. The stories vary wildly, as well; from a cruel and pragmatic Commissar to a stoic yet stout Space Marine, there were no official document on this mysterious savior. They will always know his name, however, as the very cry Khorne made still echoes throughout the Warp to this very day:

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYD!"


Holy crap, this was amazing! I'm really glad I've got this done, it turned out so well!

Anyway, thanks for reading fellow reader. Be sure to read and review, and hopefully correct me on any grammatical errors I've made.