The ruinous powers were a lot harder to kill than the small Necron force we had to face (which I didn't understand at the time as I had never collected any Necron models) but at least when they went down, they stayed down. The Word Bearer force was still only small, roughly the same size as the Necron force, but I found that I didn't want to hit them as I had done with the Necrons as I had spent time and money putting these guys together and doing some of the best painting I had ever done on a model. I just couldn't bring my self to do it. I saw one Word Bearer that I remember as my finest work standing amongst his Chaos brethren, firing his bolter with one hand and revving his chain axe in the other. Many guardsmen and a few Space Wolves went down because of him, but I couldn't bring myself to harm him. I winced as a las-shot ricocheted off his shoulder pads, scorching a thin line across its surface, marking its formerly pristine state. I knew the longer that I waited to end him, the more needless lives would be lost. With a heavy heart, I raised my weapon above my head and made ready to end his existence. Before I could bring it down on him, I looked at him one last time, and he looked at me. We locked eyes for several seconds, each of us knowing what must be done. He knew his fate and he knew he could not escape, and he accepted it honourably. If he hadn't descended into Chaos, he would have made a fine Space Marine in service of the Emperor. But before I could bring my weapon down to crush him, Basilisk artillery fired from across my room and fire rained down on the Chaos force, much of it concentrated on that Word Bearer. The Chaos marines that weren't killed were sent flying and landed heavily a great distance away from where they had left the ground. As the survivors stumbled back to their feet, a wing of my beloved Valkyries zoomed overhead, firing all of their weapons at the warriors of Chaos, ending their existence. Demons screeched as they were cast back into the Warp, a noise that even made me cover my ears. Not many Chaos soldiers were left, but they no longer had demon support (which, like the Necrons, I don't remember getting) and were quickly moped up by charging Space Wolves. My carpet was now completely ruined thanks to artillery, flamers and meltas, but I didn't care. I was still staring at the smoking crater where that Chaos marine had stood, remembering him in all of his finery. Such thoughts were heretical, I knew that, but still I could not tear my eyes away from the crater or my mind away from the marine.
"Cease fire!" The artillery commander yelled to his group of Basilisks. The mighty cannons stopped roaring and the shells stopped pelting the soft surface of this planet. Then, a squadron of Valkyries flew overhead at high speed and blasted away at the survivors with all of their weaponry. The guardsmen stared in awe at the devastation they had reaped on the Chaos forces, as did the giant. He simply stared at a crater, presumably in awe of the strength of the Imperium's military. Without a word, he walked out of landscape via an enormous entryway which resembled a door, but was manipulated manually by a 'handle.' Truly this was technology from the dark days of Terra. He returned a few moments later carrying a large structure in his hands with a large cable jumping from it. He put the structure down and connected the cable to a hole in the wall and pressed on the structure and it sprang to life. A deafening whine emitted from the machine and even the mighty Space Marines covered their ears in response. Something in the machine was spinning and the giant pushed the structure back and forth across the land, pausing occasionally to allow guardsmen or marines out of the way before continuing. Still he said no words. But wherever he pushed the structure, if there was ash or dust there, when he moved over it, it would vanish, presumably into the machine. There were still holes in the planet's surface, suggesting that this was not some form of terraformer, but the dirt from the battle had gone. After several minutes, the giant switched off the machine and the loud whining sound stopped, replaced with a low 'powering down' noise. The giant packed away the machine and carried it back out of the room. Then he returned and sat quietly on the structure that resembled a bunk, but on the scale so that the giant could sleep in it. No one said a word. All eyes were on him. He sat there, silent, for several moments, looking over at the entire Imperial force assembled before him. Then he uttered three words.
"Fuck my life..."
'Why to God did it have to be me that this happened to?' I thought. My room now looked like it had been burned in small patches with a lighter or something and I had to hide an entire army from my family and friends. This was not looking good. I had to organise them somehow if I wanted to hide them effectively. Somehow, I imagined Imperial Guard sharing a base with Space Wolves wouldn't be a very good idea, them sharing it with drunk Space Wolves an even more terrible idea. So I would probably have to station themselves apart from one another to avoid tension and thus being exposed to the world. I had the perfect idea of where to make a base for the guardsmen, but the Space Wolves were a bit more tricky. I had to find somewhere that was safe for them to hide, but with nothing breakable within their reach, or any alcohol. I had to think for several moments for a spot to place them, so I went over some house rules while I thought about it.
"First off, no flamers, meltas or plasma guns, or anything that can burn stuff. They are an absolute last resort. No exceptions."
"But..." the Commissar began, clutching his plasma pistol affectionately.
"NO exceptions." I cut him off.
The commissar dropped his head in sadness and regiments of guardsmen cheered.
"Secondly. No executions for morale."
Another cheers from the regiments.
"Third rule. Clean up your own mess. Any corpses, any waste, anything at all, I want cleaned up so my family don't find out about you."
Captain Westfield spoke up. "Family? There are others like you?"
"Yes. But they are bigger. And scarier. They won't look after you like I will."
One guardsman squeaked in fear and his face burned red in shame.
"Fourth rule. No alcohol unless I give it to you. I'm looking at you, Space Wolves."
"Very well." Logan Grimnar said, Bjorn the Fell-Handed at his side. "So long as you do not forget about us."
"You have yourself a deal." I replied. "Fifth rule. If anyone sees you, act like your a model. Just go rigid and don't move a muscle."
Everyone nodded in agreement. Now it was time to assign dwellings. I had a lot of terrain pieces for games of 40k under my bed, most of which were Imperial city buildings. I assigned the Imperial Guard there and they labelled their new home the 'underground city.' I gave them my permission to expand if they needed to, so long as all details were run past me first, so I could approve of their expansions. No approval, no building.
The Space Wolves were assigned to the attic in the house, so they were out of the way but somewhere were I could monitor and give them supplies. I was the only one who used the attic so I wasn't bothered about them being detected, so long as they agreed to be quiet when people other than me were in the house. They agreed to those terms on the condition that they had weekly alcohol rations. Shrugging, I agreed. Whatever kept them quiet, though I doubt it would.
After ferrying all of the Space Wolves up to the attic, I returned to my room to find that the guardsmen were hard at work settling in to their new home. They had attached cables to the Valkyries and were using them to move heavy containers to hard-to-reach places. As I walked in, observing them working efficiently with one another, the jeep that carried the guardsmen's leaders approached me and tooted its horn. Without dismounting, the governor called up to me, and I crouched down low to hear him better.
"Giant! The underground city will make a fine base of operations, but our aircraft are not suited to taking off from that position. May we build a land/launch bay up on that Cliffside?" he said, gesturing to my chest of drawers.
"Very well." I said. "But my name is Tom, and make sure you don't get caught flying."
"Yes, sir?" he replied, clearly not used to call others 'sir.' Without another word, he banged on the roof of the jeep and the driver did quick U-turn and drove off.
Crouching down on all fours and peering under my bed, I saw the underground city bustling with life. Guardsmen marched everywhere, or were setting up sleeping quarters in buildings or moving supplies. They had hung dim construction lights from buildings and the underside of my bed, giving the city a warm glow that was hard to spot from outside, making their base subtle. I saw a large area of room under my bed that had no buildings placed on top of it, that was now filled as it served as a parking bay for all of the Imperial Guard's tanks and artillery. I was genuinely impressed with the rate that the guardsmen had built up the area and the overall scale of it all. It looked like it had been there for years already.
I was observing the guards so intently that when my phone rang, it scared the life of me and I jumped up in surprise, nearly bashing my head on the bed. I thanked the Emperor that I didn't. I get the feeling that guardsmen wouldn't appreciate living in a city with frequent earthquakes. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I saw that one of my friends, Chad, was the one calling me. I answered the phone straight away.
"Yellow! How you doing, mat-"
"No time!" he yelled down the phone. "I've got a problem!"
"What's up, man?"
"This is going to sound crazy but... you know those Eldar you bought for me so I could start playing 40k?"
"Yeah..."
"They're kind of... alive..."
I looked at the guardsmen roaming around my room. "You know, it doesn't sound that crazy..."
