Hello, there reader! Thank you for deciding to read the first 'book' of my Wrath of the Imperium fan series. This is fic is that features a roster of original characters from multiple factions interacting with each other in a novel-like setting. Each Act can be considered a 'book' in this series and will each feature a particular set of different characters related to the ones of the previous books. Anyhow, this concept of mine has been floating around my head for two months and I've finally decided to give it a try. Enjoy! Criticism and reviews are much appreciated.

Edit (Oct 5, 2019): Upon proofreading the entire story, I noticed there were a lot of grammatical errors that needed to be fixed. I also realized that some portions of the story were lacking in detail so I've removed and added some parts. To those of you who have read the story before this edit, I suggest you read the beginning again. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Chapter 1: Advent

Segmentum Pacificus, M42. 325

A nearby blue giant comes into the horizon as the Craftworld Iybraesil drifts aimlessly in the vast currents of space known by the Imperium of Man as the " Segmentum Pacificus" Ever since the great 13th Black Crusade by Abbadon the Despoiler and the formation of the Great Rift that tore the galaxy in half nearly 700 years ago, life in Iybraesil has never gotten more turbulent and harsh. No longer could the Eldar of this craftworld obtain their much-desired Spirit stones with the ease and opportunities they once had a millennium earlier thanks to the Mon'keigh and their corrupt brethren. To add insult to injury, they now have to deal with constant raids from different chaos daemons, most specifically the ones from she-who-thirsts.

Thanks to the support of nearby Craftworlds and a Drukhari warhost, Iybraesil has managed to successfully emerge victorious against the assaults of those malevolent beings. For the longest time, the inhabitants of Iybraesil have believed themselves fortunate enough to have been spared the worst end of the stick compared to what the rest of the galaxy had received. The major cause behind this widespread belief was the fact that not a single Chaos Space Marine warband has yet to attack the craftworld. This single thought had made many of Iybraesil's inhabitants lax and lessened their resolve to worry about such a thing ever happening in the near future. They will soon find themselves to be suffering the consequences of such naivety…

Farseer Gilgalad meditates silently in the gardens in the upper spire of the Ivory halls, deep within the Citadel of wisdom. Long amber hair tied to a pointy ponytail stretches evenly across her back.

Her consciousness floats amidst the realms of her mind as the scent of her trance-inducing incenses allows their way into her nostrils. She finds herself exploring the realm of her own mind, reliving past memories and recalling events her predecessors played a role in. Her psychic prowess is unmatched in many Craftworlds, except for those of Biel-tan and Ulthwe. It is by no means weak, for she possesses a profound ability in seeing events that dig deep into the Galaxy's history. On different occasions, she has witnessed generous glimpses of random events throughout the past ten millennia. Amongst the most notable of these was that of their beloved Empire that once ruled the galaxy and its harrowing collapse. Another was the rise of the Phoenix Lords on the planet Asur and then the rest was most distasteful to her. The rise of the Imperium and the destruction of many minor Craftworlds during the Great Crusade, the most venerable Farseer Eldrad Ulthran warning that foolish Emperor of his Primarch's betrayal.

If one were to see Gilgalad's expression as she meditated, it would be one of anger and frustration. Gilgalad hated humanity and everything they stood for. It was they who had torn the galaxy in half and submerged it to hell. It was they who prevented her people from pulling themselves back together after the great fall. Then why was it that she keeps on receiving visions of the Mon'keigh? This was a question, she was unable to answer for herself as she delved into the visions that the warp tossed at her. It was all fine until she finally stumbled into a vision that foretold her of the future. The contents of her vision then shook her to the very core.

The Farseer then awakens her trance as she rises up with her staff in hand. She heads down the floating stairway and heads towards the exit of the Ivory halls. It's there that a grey-blue Guardian stands patiently, waiting for the Farseer to return. Her helmet has a shade of red akin to that of ruby and is adorned with the sacred emblem of her craftworld, the hand of Morai-Heg, the Crone goddess of Eldar mythology.

"Atayri". Said the Farseer.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Summon the council and call the Autarch back from the patrol, I have received a vision foretelling a great danger for our craftworld." said the Farseer.

"I shall do so at once, my Lady!" said Atayri.

The Guardian then salutes the Exarch and as she departs through the adjacent direction.

Gilgalad bit her lip as her expression begins to frown with great worry.

"So the tainted Mon'keigh have finally turned their attention towards us. Morai-Heg save us all..." said the Farseer as she exited the Ivory Halls and into the central section of the citadel where the council room is located.

Iybraesil Spaceport, a few hours later…

The Craftworld's warhost arrives from a huge webway portal. A large blue ship with thrusters similar to gills normally found in aquatic creatures emerges from the portal followed by other smaller vessels. They are worn out and damaged, a testament to the ferocity of the expedition they underwent. Civilians looking up above would notice that the ships that arrived belonged to the fleet of the honored Exarch Nardual of the Dire Avengers aspect warriors, his flagship serving a testament to the pride of Iybraesil. Unbeknownst to even the Exarch, the fleet brings with them a presence. A presence that would be most unwelcome by all of the Craftworld's inhabitants.

An Alpha Legion Terminator gazes at the horizon through a small window. The blue giant shines its azure light upon the world, slipping through its thick and translucent glass, resulting in a vibrant glow at the skyline. A metropolis rests below while dozens of smooth, white pillars reach towards an artificial sky. Their construction is a pinnacle of beauty and function unseen in any Imperial world, as small cities can be found in these tube-like pillars connected by dozens of branching 'highways' that connect each pillar to the other. Perhaps they serve as mementos to the might of the fallen Aeldari Empire of ages past.

"I gotta hand it to them, Eldar architecture is truly extravagant. Unlike those claustrophobic Hive cities in Imperial worlds, they really know how to maximize their space evenly. Those Imperial architects really need to take notes from the Long ears!" said Terminator Andron.

The flagship then slowly descends upon a large platform located at the center of the spaceport. It gently lands upon the surface while the smaller vessels then follow suit. Andron watches the ship's warriors and crewmen descend from a ramp carrying their belongings and scars of battle. Their arrival is no cause of any celebration, even though losses in the expedition were unusually minor, exhaustion runs deeply amongst the warriors of the host.

Andron looked through the visor of his Lernean pattern helmet and it tagged only less than a hundred Xenos life signs with its Terror sight. He notices a few Eldar porters heading towards the cargo bay with floating carts. They then began unloading the ship's precious cargo sealed within tightly sealed black crates. Precious is that they are quality spirit stones desperately harvested from the crone worlds of the lost Cadian sector, as Andron had checked earlier. He then notices the ship's commander, Exarch Nardual, giving out instructions to each of the porters as he peeped at them from the ship's window.

"Place these amongst the storages in the Irillyth junction. Inform the council that the expedition was a success with very minor losses," said Nardual

"Oh, how terribly mistaken you are, dear Xenos. The ships you've brought home with you make the perfect Troisian (Trojan) horses. The Alpha Legion has made your sorry excuse of a world its next target." Thought Terminator Andron.

Andron notices the final ship of the Iybraesil warhost land in the port from the huge webway portal. The pale blue vessel lands on an empty space in the dock as it deactivates its Fin-like thrusters. Beneath his visor, Andron's eyelids sink down as his irises began to expand. His eyesight zooms in closely at the latest arrival as his Terror sight marks down around forty non-Xenos life signs aboard the Eldar vessel.

"That's my cue!" said Andron.

His hulking figure then leaves the window as he conveniently walks the now empty corridors in the ship's hull. The crew of the ship has since departed the vessel, seeking respite after the dangerous mission to the crone worlds. As planned, he exits through the ship's other exit in the more obscured area facing the edge of the port's vast platform.

Andron hurriedly sneaks his way through different blind spots in the port and the lax security only made it even easier despite his sluggish speed. He makes his way towards the newly arrived vessel and spots a Scorpion tank covered with a large fabric. He tugs the fabric and sneaks in between the vehicle's 'pincers'. However, due to his large and bulky figure, Andron has to quietly bend the long shafts that serve as the turrets of the vehicle for him to fit in between them.

Covered by the large fabric, Andron slightly lifts the cloth for him to get a view of the infiltrated ship right before him. Exarch Nardual is seen heading towards the final ship, having noticed that its crew still hasn't left the vessel.

"Captian Legoras, please open the cargo hold for the porters!" shouts the Xenos in his filthy, psychic tongue.

No response for a few moments. Nardual was about to walk closer to the craft when the cargo hold finally opens. Andron watches silently with the most anticipation.

A puff of mist is released as the vessel's cargo bay opens up to the porters waiting below. The Eldar porters then resume their duties unloading the large packages from the ship as wide ramp revealing the side entrance of the vessel unfolds itself in a minimalistic fashion. A so-called "Dire Avenger" aspect warrior with a red sash in his waste steps down from the ramp and confronts the Exarch of his shrine. The Captain salutes the exarch immediately as steps of the ramp.

"My Exarch, I must congratulate you on the success of our mission! We have sustained minor losses well below our expected margins in an operation of this level, may the great Asuryan be praised!"

" My deepest thanks, Captain! Come, let us all celebrate our success with a toast! Speaking of which, where is the rest of your crew? Why have they not yet come out?" said the Exarch.

"Oh, they are just packing away their belongings and bandaging their wounds. They should be out soon," replied Legolas

The Exarch noted the rather unusual tone the Captain has. He could also see the repetitive mannerisms rippling across his fingers.

"Well then, I shall assist in carrying our wounded brothers and sisters to the healing center. You may take your leave, Captain!"

"Sir!" says Legoras as he salutes his Exarch a final time before leaving.

Exarch Nardual heads up the ramp and heads into the hull of the vessel where the crew awaits. He sees no signs of Legoras' crew anywhere, not even a single whisper or sound of activity. The air starts to get heavy and chilly as if he were on a frozen world, he believes this may be because the ship's flux engine has already switched off but his senses tell him that something is… wrong. Chills run down the veteran Exarch's spine as he then pulls his Power Spear as he walks the ships dimly lit corridors as moves towards the gathering hall. As he neared the doorway, his boot steps on a squishy object. The Exarch then lowers his glowing power spear towards the object, revealing it to be a severed limb of one of his fellow Dire Avengers, causing his eyes to widen with shock.

The Exarch hurriedly bursts through the main door of the gathering hall. His greatest fears are revealed to him before his very eyes as he sees the corpses of his fellow kin all piled in a single spot, horribly dismembered with the anguish in their faces just as apparent as the bottle sized holes on their bodies. Each of their spirit stones is all missing, perhaps destroyed.

"What… WHAT IS THIS?!" shouts the Exarch as his fear turned into an intense fury, his power spear glowing brightly.

"It's just the beginning of the end, my dear Exarch!" said a familiar voice in a sinister tone.

The Exarch turns around to see Captain Legoras standing silently with his power sword drawn. He quickly raises his spear and aims it at Legoras

"Treachery! By Asuryan you will pay fo-"

Captain Legoras decapitates the Exarch, his lifeless body then collapsing to the floor with a large, flat plain now remaining where Nardual's head once stood.

"Well done, Xenos!" says a heavy voice.

"You have done us a great boon today, Xenos! Now, it's time for you to join your friend in the realm of the Dark prince!" said a huge figure obscured in the dark.

Legoras then proceeds to point his sword towards his chest. His arms begin to shake intensely as desperately tries to resist his captor's psychic control.

"Any last words?" says the voice.

"I eternally curse you and your foul masters, Mon'Keigh! May the avatar-"

"That's quite the tongue you have there, Xenos" said the obscured figure with an irritated tone.

Legoras' arms plunge his straight through his chest, the sword's weapon spirit glowing immensely through the gem in the hilt.

"… Khaine tear you to shreds…" said Legoras as his life-force pours across the cold and smooth floor.

A large gauntlet hand picks up the green spirit stone attached to the Captain's chest armor and crushes it to dust, sending Legoras' spirit flying off to the Immaterium.

The large man carries a long staff with the sigil of an eight-pointed star with an eye at the center, the armor he dons has a lighter shade of blue and a tinge of deep purple with heraldry depicting an insignia of a hand with five fingers each having the head of a vicious dragon. His helmet is adorned with scale-like patterns and four draconic horns stick out. A green sash surrounds his waist and flutters as he walks towards his fellow battle-brothers waiting in the dark.

"Brothers, the hour is upon us! We shall strike at the very heart of this Craftworld and plunge every last Xeno living here to the deepest pit of despair! Our masters, including the Dark Prince whom these Xenos so righteously fear will be most pleased in our gifts!"

The Chaos Astartes cheer with approval.

"Brother-Captain Ouroboros!" said the Chaos Lord. A hulking Terminator with tusks sticking out his helmet approaches his lord and kneels.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"In a day's time, you shall take a detachment of our band into this Craftworld's infinity circuit and conduct the ritual to summon our reinforcements waiting in the Immaterium. We shall offer the souls of those dead Xeno souls to our hungry masters! Oh and please signal the rest of our brothers in the other vessels."

"The Hand of Doom vanquishes all! GLORIA IMMATERIUM!"

"GLORIA IMMATERIUM!" shouts the rest of his warband

Beneath the visor of his corrupted helmet, a wide smile of excitement emerges from the face of Barazan Nartos, Chaos Lord of the Hand of Doom warband.

"With the death of this pathetic craftworld, the great gods will reward me the title and rank of Daemon Prince and then I shall become unstoppable! No one, be it the Anathema or that foolish wretch Alpharius!" thought Barazan.

Suddenly, a voice is heard from the back of the hull. It seems that for all the careful planning and chaotic magicks this offshoot warband has, they had forgotten how to remain silent.

"Hello? Exarch Nardual? Captain Legoras? We have finished unloading most of the cargo, where would like us to place them?" echoes the voice of an Eldar youth anticlimactically.

Barazan signals one of his men to get rid of the Xenos.

At the cargo bay of the vessel, three porters await further instructions from the Exarch, oblivious to the danger that claimed his life.

"Idial! Where are you going?" said a female Eldar.

"I shall go inside and speak with the Exarch. He and the crew are taking far too long inside. You and Cyrdan wait there"

Idial then disappears into the inner hull of the ship. The two Eldar then sit in a corner, trying to catch their breath after unloading all of that cargo.

A few minutes pass by and Idial still has not returned with instructions from the Exarch. The two Eldar porters start to grow suspicious as to what's happening on the inside. They then hear a few loud metallic thuds heading in their direction.

"Idial! Is that you? What's happening over there?"

They discover their answer when Idial comes back flying towards them. Well, a portion of his upper torso at least. The two Eldar stand completely still with utter shock as they stare at his butchered corpse.

"AAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEE" shouts the female Eldar.

The loud metallic footsteps reveal themselves to be a Chaos Space Marine, clad in navy blue armor carrying both a chainsword and a bolter with each hand. The chainsword is freshly caked with Idial's ichor, its sawed teeth lined with the gore torn from his flesh.

"Leothelia! Run and get help, the Mon'Ke-"

Cydran barely finished his sentence before his face blown into bits by the Astartes' bolter.

Leothelia quickly vaults over behind the cover of some crates as the Heretic Astartes began discharging his weapon at her. The bolter's high caliber rounds began chewing their way through the different crates before taking a pause.

Leothelia then hears the Astartes' footsteps heading towards her. Fortune graces its touch upon the helpless Eldar when a plasma grenade conveniently falls right in front of her from one of the ruined crates. She takes the grenade, arms it and tosses it to where the Astartes stands. She then desperately sprints outside the exit as the grenade detonates, partially damaging the Chaos Marine.

The enraged Astartes then hurriedly pursues the defiant Xeno wench as he exits the cargo bay, only to bump into a huge Lernean Terminator.

"Hello, brother! I got bored waiting for the lord's orders. Has he said anything yet?"

Said Andron.

"Scram, tubbo! I'll that rip pathetic Xeno insect to shreds!" spoke the Chaos Astartes as he scolded Andron.

"Xenos bug? I'm afraid I haven't seen any Warp Spiders around here, brother" said Andron as he feigned ignorance.

The Chaos Astartes spots the Eldar woman in the distance, running beside some of the docked Windrider bikes.

"Move, you half-wit! She'll warn her comrades!" said the Chaos Marine as he shoved past Andron.

"Wait! You still haven't told me the lord's orders!" said Andron as he placed his armored palm on his brother's shoulder pad.

"He said to head towards the Infinity circuit with Brother Ouroboros and...Wait, you're not from our Warba-"

Andron then crushes the Marine's shoulder pad with his palm and pulls him closer as he raises his right Power fist where a sharp runic blade protrudes. The blade then pierces through the Heretic's skull as if it were soft butter, killing him instantly.

Andron then casts the carcass of the Heretic Astartes aside and vanishes off into the shadows. He then lifts his Power Gauntlet and presses a button embedded into it.

"One down. Fifty-nine remaining…" he says.

Meanwhile, the female Eldar named Leothelia, still desperately running for her life, began shouting for help.

"RAISE THE ALARM! CALL THE GUARDIANS! THE MON'KEIGH ARE ATTACKING!" she shouts.

The other Eldar porters look at Leothelia with great astonishment. For some reason, they believe her to be jesting at them and began shaking their heads with disbelief. It remained as such until one of the ships in the port suddenly bursts into a large ball of fire. The explosion came from the Exarch's flagship and it caused a chain reaction to some of the other vessels docked in the area, one of which included two detachments of Chaos Space Marines.

"WHAT IN TZEENTCH'S NAME IS THIS? I DID NOT ORDER ANY EXPLOSIONS!" shouted Barazan as his retinue made their way towards one of the ports exits.

"My lord, our presence here has been exposed and the other squads have been crippled by sudden explosions! Shall we still proceed with the plan?" said Terminator Ouroboros.

Barazan pondered for a moment as to what alternative options he may proceed with. He scoffs and beneath his helmet, a deep scowl forms across his corrupted face.

"Captain Ouroboros! I need you and your detachment to remain here and await my return. Thanks to this disturbance, the Xenos will have their infinity circuit under tight security and their troops will be here any moment. With our Cultist squads in disarray, I must return back to our world and gather reinforcements. By the time I return, I expect the Craftworld's defenses paralyzed enough to fall to our invasion. Do not fail me, Captain!"

"Yes my lord! The Xenos will tremble in their despair!" said the Terminator.

The Chaos Lord and Ouroboros' squad then make their separate ways with much haste. Barazan and his men board an undamaged Eldar craft and fly off into the webway portal while Ouroboros' squad vanishes into thin air, abandoning their fellow battle-brothers and their cultist minions to the flames.

It takes around five minutes for a force of Eldar Guardians in Waveriders and two squads of Howling Banshees led by an Exarch named Liandrel to converge at the port. They arrive to see the pitiful state of the spaceport with numerous vehicles and ships reduce to a burning ruin.

They make quick work of the disorderly Chaos Astartes and their cultist minions, mercilessly cutting them down with their Power swords and blasting them to pieces with their Shuriken rifles.

"Those ships were from our Exarch's expeditionary fleet! Where is our Exarch?" shouted a Dire Avenger.

"If those Mon'keigh were aboard his ships, then I fear the worst has happened!" said another Dire Avenger.

Exarch Liandrel of the Dire Screams aspect shrine overhears their conversation and approaches them with much haste.

"Where is he?! Where is Nardual?" says Liandrel

"We do not know, Exarch Liandrel! His flagship has already been destroyed and he may already-"

The Howling Banshee exarch then shoves the Avenger to the ground.

"DO NOT SAY SUCH THINGS! I WILL FIND HIM MYSELF!" shouted the Exarch as she sprinted off with much haste.

She then sees a large, undamaged ship with its ramp open and beside it lays the corpse of a dead Chaos Astartes. She then enters the vessel and searches around.

"Nardual! My dear, where are you?" she says worriedly. She searches the upper decks and the command center of the ship with no avail and no sign of Nardual anywhere. Finally, she makes her way into the gathering hall of the vessel where its crew would often have their meals.

She then finds the Exarch and the gruesome fate he and the ship's crew had suffered. She drops both knees and examines the decapitated head of her beloved. Unlike the other corpses, Nardual's face has retained his righteous fury even in death. To her great surprise, the Exarch's spirit stone remains intact and undamaged and she removes it from his lifeless chest gently.

"UAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" mourns Exarch Liandrel as she holds Nardual's spirit stone closely to her chest.

"My dear, I'm sorry… I'm so sorry..I…" muttered Liandrel.

A few dozen footsteps could be heard approaching her from the entrance of the gathering hall.

"Exarch Liandrel, are you alrig-". Said a Howling Banshee before stopping completely upon seeing the corpses.

The Exarch cries woefully for a few minutes while grasping the spirit stone upon her bosom. She then rises up with her Diresword in hand and grips it tightly.

"My dear sisters, the Mon'keigh have infiltrated our Craftworld, wrecked our vessels and slain an Exarch and his crew… We must repay this transgression with their spilled blood!"

The other Howling Banshees scream and raise their swords with extreme approval.

"BY KHAINE, ALL OF THEM SHALL SUFFER AS OUR KIN HAVE!" said Liandrel with utmost fury in her tone.

Andron gazes at the spaceport carefully from a distance, watching the Eldar forces punishing the Chaos invaders with absolutely no quarter. They execute all the surviving Astartes and cultists with brutal efficiency, living up to their renowned name. The mysterious Terminator then departs, blending into the shadows once more to pursue Ouroboros and his detachment to prevent them from executing whatever dreadful plans they have for the Craftworld's Infinity circuit.