Abandon All Hope, Embrace All Chaos

by Zeroth17

During the Science Fair in Megaville, a gate has opened to unleash a force beyond imagining. Now the heroes scramble to survive, the villains reign, and Chaos Descends upon the multiverse. Rated M for Violence, Foul Language, Sexual Themes, Nudity, Horror, And References to other 40k Fics and TTS. (Powerpuff Girl Doujinshi/Warhammer crossover) (Cover Art by Symptom99)

17. Hope Spring Eternal

Opening File: The Shards of the Emperor

The Shards of the Emperor are the fragments of the Emperor's soul that had been scattered across the Warp from the tremulous power of the Golden Throne. Each fragment of the Emperor's soul contains immense power, enough to annihilate even the strongest of daemons to ever be spawned from the tides of the Warp. The abilities of the fragments vary but each possess the ability to purify both physical and spiritual corruption.

Each fragment has a mind of its own, gaining its own form and personality, sharing each thought between each other. Some fragments are in fact representations of specific parts of the Emperor's personality: The Emperor's Intellect, the Emperor's Valor, and the Emperor's Compassion, etc.

Regardless, the Shards of the Emperor can possess a mortal body through one of two ways; the first is the easiest, simply possessing someone of great faith or determination. The second is much more complicated; the vessel must believe that they are The Emperor and as such, due to the nature of the Warp, the Shards can possess them. However, this method ensures that the most powerful of the Emperor's shards can possess a host.

A sign that they are about to be possessed is that their pupils turn a radiant gold.

The Shard of the Emperor are a major threat to the new Forces of Chaos as even the most insignificant shard is capable of cleansing a Daemon World of corruption and the largest capable of slaying event the greatest of Chaos' champions.

It has been showed that several shards have possessed weapons in different universes and time periods that are considered sacred or holy, giving them the ability to cleanse corruption and permanently slay daemons. People have also been shown to be imbued with the Shard's power, able to harness a fraction of the Emperor's power without his personality overriding their's.

Several attempts were made by the Forces of Chaos to destroy these fragments; however, all attempts have ended in failure.

Close File

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Opening File: V1

Volkite Unit 1 also known as V1 is a prototype Supreme Machine from the Arma'Gadra Universe. Earning the moniker of 'The Iron Vanquisher' or simply 'The Vanquisher', it is one of the most feared beings in the Multiverse, built for war and can equip a wide variety of weapons in its arsenal that are stored with it wing-like protrusions.

Originally only able to subsist on blood, being continuously exposed to Warp energy and chaos tainted blood, V1 is now able to subsist on Warp energy to charge its power cells, also giving it the ability to modify its body (to an extent) and weapon loadout, as well as never running out of ammunition. Due to its powers and weapons, V1 has destroyed billions of cultists, Heretic Astartes, daemons, and monstrosities in and out of the Warp.

However, V1 has a strong bond with any entity that has managed to earn its respect, allowing whoever it has bonded to the ability to command V1 as an attack dog.

Close File

---

The Warp

The Formless Wastes

A skull was resting innocently on the black recesses of the Warp, used to belong to a truly reviled man that flayed and ate any that displeased, even if they be children. He died here alone and in agony, tormented by those that he abused his whole life. Suddenly, the skull was crushed under the mechanical foot of one of the most feared being in the Warp.

It was a 7-foot-tall droid possessing lightweight, yet formidable looking armor comprised of sturdy metal. The armor plates were painted blue, with a black 'V1' inscribed on its chest plate. Black and silver metal was visible on its joints and abdomen beneath its armor. Its right hand clutched a black revolver, something that made all things that saw it weary. A single yellow optic appraised the surprised human, its head reminding him of an old school security camera. What really drew the attention was the wings protruding from its back. Each wing had four extensions of yellow light: the outline of several different guns visible in its wings.

It twirled the black revolver in his hand before aiming it at the oncoming hordes in front of him.

His name was V1.

And he was out for blood.

Sanity is dead

Immaterial is fuel

The Warp is full

The Khornate roared in burning rage but V1 merely raised his Piercer revolver at the berserker before firing, reducing the Astartes' head to pulp while his helm crumbled like an eggshell as a massive geyser of blood exploded from the neck and sprayed all over the robot. The blood slowly began seeming into the Supreme Machine's frame and siphoned the Warp contamination that then mended any damaged parts.

Ever since the incident that led to him being trapped in the Warp, V1's systems slowly reconfigured themselves as his power cells soon began subsisting on Warp energy instead of blood and given that he has been inside the Warp for an indeterminate about of time, he practically has an indefinite source of power.

V1 then flipped a coin up before firing a single bullet, causing the bullet to ricochet and fly into the head of a cultist that attempted to bring an Eviscerator down on him. The machine then launched himself at the hordes, bringing out his Attractor and fired dozens of bullets per second at the deranged hordes, reducing several hundred thousand cultists and thralls to slurry as they died a screaming death.

A World Eater screamed out as it attacked with duel chainaxes, slashing wildly as he attempted to crush the machine but V1 dodge and weaved through the slashes before revealing his Core Eject shotgun and fired. The explosive shot obliterated the head of the berserker Astartes, the essence of Khorne blasting off before they were absorbed by V1's fuel cells.

Suddenly, V1 swerved around to the other hordes behind him, aiming the Attractor at them before abruptly firing a spike at the ground. The nail magnet then began glowing green before suddenly, all the bullets that were fired at V1 were then attracted to the spike, coiling around it like a storm of metal before it detonated in a blast of fire and magnetic propulsion.

A psyker in the hordes growled with rage, gathering all the power he could and swelling his soul with the power of the Warp, before he screamed and unleashed a massive bolt of infernal power at V1, who made no attempt to dodge. The bolt struck V1 directly in the chest, the energy seemingly seeping into his frame with the droid merely brushing off the soot it left on his chest in a mocking manner.

It seemed that did the trick as the psyker immediately began panicking, screaming out and trying to get away, "It's...! IT'S A MONST-" V1 merely raised his gun before firing, reducing the head of the psyker to pulp before he could finish.

Unseen to V1, one cult rose from behind the ruins of a building, forcing every ounce of his strength to lift the Bolter from a fallen Astartes in his arms before aiming it directly at the unsuspecting droid. A roar came from his throat before he fired. The recoil reduced the bones in his arms and ribs to splinters as the explosive round rocketed toward the blue battle drone.

Suddenly, V1 merely raised his left arm and knocked the bolt round away with nothing but the back of his hand. The round was sent flying back to the cultist and his friends hiding in the dark, only able to scream before the round detonated, with those not killed in the blast being crushed by the building collapsing onto them. V1 merely rolled his shoulder joints before he turned to the wastes.

The hordes were retreating, he wouldn't let them.

XXX

V1 kept thinking of a song that he used to hear from the human realms, he believed they called We Didn't Start The Fire by Billy Joel. The robot kept replaying the song in his CPU so that his boredom chip wouldn't malfunction or become overclocked. One would think his bored chip would be of no use in the Warp, but one would be surprised at how much one could become numb to insanity.

The only thing that would alleviate the boredom was him blasting whatever cultist or monster he came across to hamburger meat. And even that got boring when he couldn't find any hordes of cultists after that last one.

Soon, however, he found himself staring at something that alleviated his boredom quite a bit.

It was a statue, standing innocuously in the Wastes, resembling an angel made of bronze, gleaming like gold in the light of something that resembled the skies. It was posed dramatically with the arms and wings extended like a crucifixion. V1 cocked his head to the side, wondering what a simple statue could be doing in the formless wastes.

Suddenly, a shape composed of Warp stuff, vaguely humanoid, slithered towards the statue. The robot immediately raised his gun at the spirit, aiming at the spirit as it came to the statue. The warp thing turned to the state as a sinister grin came to whatever it possessed for a face before it suddenly dove into the statue. An aura of malice suddenly surrounded the statue as V1 took aim.

Just as he was about to shoot, the eyes opened and parts of the statue began to crack before they burst apart, revealing black undulating flesh with veins of vivid green. The mouth parted to reveal a jutting maw of curved saber-like fangs, the wings cracked to reveal webs of black viscous fluid that held them together, several tentacles sprouting from the back.

The Possessed screeched out in an attempt to intimidate the robot. V1 merely twirled his revolver and took aim.

Several vivid blue projectiles resembling eyeballs then launched towards the droid, who dodged as they detonated into cyan blast before V1 fired at the arm that hit the wrist, denting the form before it reformed liquescently and then it unveiled a breath of fire. The area was engulfed by Warpfire, however, V1 rocketed out of the tide with his Pump Charge and fired, the shots piercing through its chest and leaving a massive gaping hole.

Suddenly, the chest reformed before splitting open to reveal that several rows of rending fangs akin to sabers that lead to a well of blades. The maw then expelled a massive beam of Warp energy that glimmered and shined, too intense for V1 to absorb. The drone dashed away from the beam before he threw a slab of raw stone from his spot, hitting the maw and disrupting the beam.

The diversion allowed him to pull out his Overheat minigun, squeezing the trigger as a torrent of bullets exploded out of the many barrels. The Possessed used its wings as shields, the bullets denting the metal feathers before it swiped them aside to deflect them, several tentacles launching out to impale the drone. V1 weaved his way out of the tendrils before firing at the head and neck, only denting the latter and gouging out the former.

The Possessed didn't bother showing any reaction, merely leaping straight at the droid before the latter strafed out of the way with his pump charge in his hand.

V1 dashed, pumping the pump charge for as long as it could as the machine approached the Possessed, who launched myriads of projectiles that he both could and could not absorb before he leapt into the air and threw the Pump Charge at the animated statue.

Suddenly, just as the pump charge reached the Possessed, V1 flicked a coin into the air and raised his revolver. One nanosecond passed, before V1 fired a single shot.

Just as the barrels of the Pump Charge were aimed at the head of the Possessed, the bullet collided with the trigger, causing the gun to discharge. However, the thing about the Pump Charge was that if it was pumped to many times, the results were often explosive.

The twin barrels fired as a massive blast erupted, destroying the head of the Possessed before the rest burst apart in chunks of flesh and metal. The droid landed on his feet and caught the Pump Charge offhandedly as the gore and shrapnel fell around him.

XXX

A cultist screamed out before his head was blown to bits from a blast of the Pump Charge, just as several thousand bullets sprayed at the Supreme Machine. V1 proved too fast as he dashed away, the 44mm bullet fired following him before climbing the wall and firing his revolver and reducing the gunner's head to pulp before spin kicking the head off another, vaulting over the cover.

V1 caught the hand that held a sword that attempted to strike at him before ripping it out of the socket with a spray of blood and then shoving his revolver into the screaming mouth and firing, spraying the brains of the brute across his comrades. Suddenly, the droid whipped out both of his machine guns and fired with reckless abandon at whatever was in front of him, which happened to be millions of cultists.

The bullets dispersed by his machine guns weren't regular bullets, but the same bolts that the Space Marines use.

Suffice to say that anything and anyone that was hit by these would be little more than stains on the ground and whatever was in its way. The splattered remains were slurped up by his plates and his feet, even as he fired upon more cultists and marauders, even when they grew desperate enough to begin unleashing hordes of Spawn at him.

A massive spawn, the size of a dump truck, opened a maw of swirling fangs and several tentacle-like tongues before it was blown inside out by a bloody balloon from a single shot. In an instant, several more spawn swarmed V1, claws and abnormal appendages lashing out like tendrils.

The machine merely raised his guns and started firing again, bursting their bodies apart in gory displays before they rained down on his frame. He then turned his single golden optic towards the hordes, who all lost their nerve immediately and fled for their lives, using whatever they could to slow him down.

They didn't even have a chance to get a meter away.

However, a voice rang out from nowhere.

"Machine."

V1 stopped, remembering that voice.

"Machine, I know you're here. I can smell the insolent stench of your bloodstained hands. I await you down below."

A massive opening came, as if like a temple of rock and blood, several saber-like fangs formed from the gum-like frame around the entrance.

"Come to me."

(Ultrakill OST: Flesh Droning)

The Vanquisher, now having his attention thoroughly grabbed, slowly walked down the halls. He soon entered a dark space with sparse but piercing red lights illuminating pools of blood and lava, platforms of gore and bones, walls of flesh and metal, idols and fetishes to prophane things from beyond the veil. Despite that, there was a black path that showed the machine a way toward somewhere as the telltale sounds of an organ began to grow louder.

The voice then came to again.

"Limbo, Lust, all gone... With Gluttony soon to follow. Your kind know nothing but hunger; purged all life on the upper layers, and yet they remain unsatiated... As do you. You've taken everything from me, machine. And now all that remains is PERFECT HATRED."

(Ultrakill OST- Fallen Angel Organ)

The voice rang out like a seething hiss, almost like a volcano ready to erupt with utter rage. V1 paid it no heed.

Soon, the machine came to a massive open area, composed of the same lakes of blood and lava before he happened to stand on a platform.

It was an angel, adorned in silver armor with golden pieces throughout and a golden cross is painted upon his helmet. He also has blue wings of light. He also bears two swords sheathed on his left, the scabbards bearing the phrases "Splendor is Justice" and "Justice is Splendor." presumably the swords' respective names. The angel was playing an organ before he abruptly stopped as the machine grew nearby.

(Music stops)

"Machine... I will cut. You. Down." The angel proclaimed as his wings flared out and he rose from the organ, "Break you apart, splay the gore of your profane form ACROSS THE STARS! I WILL GRIND YOU DOWN UNTIL THE VERY SPARKS CRY FOR MERCY!" He then turned to face the machine, hate nearly burning from the eyes behind his helm, "MY HANDS SHALL RELISH ENDING YOU HERE!"

He unsheathed one blade from its scabbard.

"AND!"

He unsheathed another, the sound irradiating with hate and fury.

"NOW!"

(Ultrakill OST- Gabriel Fight Act 2)

His armor turned red with gold trims as his wings became gold. The machine was undaunted by his words, raising his revolver to the angel, ready for another fight.

And so, Gabriel, Judge of Hell and Apostate of Hate, rained his wrath upon the Vanquisher.

"LET'S SETTLE THIS!" Gabriel speared towards V1 who sidestepped out of the way, letting his swords pierce the ground before he slashed upwards, letting the pressurized winds cleave through the floor as the machine leaped up and fired. The bullet merely bounced off Gabriel's helm, barely denting the metal before the angel did an overhead slash that V1 twirled away from before firing again.

Gabriel slashed the bullet in half with the two halves piercing through the platform, before he slashed at V1, only for the machine to catch the blade before he then twists his body and then rammed both his feet into the angel's helm. The force sent the angel back before he flared his wings and several feather-like projectiles shot from them. V1 dashed, weaving through each projectile before ramming his fist into one of the projectiles, parrying it back at Gabriel but he merely batted it away with the back of his hand, letting it explode as it hit the walls.

The two stood their ground, circling each other like lions before Gabriel brandished his swords, "TIME TO RIGHT MY WRONG!"

He leapt into the air, both blades poised to strike before V1 leapt after him, the Pump Charge in his hand that was aimed at the chest. The explosive discharge blasted against Gabriel's chestplate that merely sent the angel back, making him even angrier before he charged straight at the machine at blinding speeds, the machine caught off guard for a moment before both swords pierced his chest.

Grabbing his swords again, Gabriel drove his foot into the machine's sternum, sending V1 crashing into the platform, splintering it as the drone was sent tumbling into the lake of blood. The Apostate of Hate hovered for several moments, watching as the machine did not surface, waiting before he suddenly broke out into hysterical laughter.

"IS THIS WHAT I LOST TO!? YOU'RE GETTING RUSTY, MACHINE!" Gabriel screamed out "YOU NEED MORE POWER!"

Suddenly, it seemed like the lake of blood began to shrink before something shot up, sending blood everywhere and causing Gabriel to use his wings to shield himself from the splashes of red.

"What the...?' Gabriel trailed off before he saw something above him.

It was V1, covered in blood as the rest of the blood lake fell like rain, droplets splattering on his plates before they were absorbed into his power cells. Suddenly, the rain of blood rapidly circled towards the machine, absorbing every single ounce into his power cells. An aura formed around the Vanquisher, that seemed almost like a typhoon. The machine charged at blinding speeds, leaving behind a sonic boom before he rammed his fist into the angel's chest.

The blow sent the Apostate of Hate flying as a sonic boom erupted, shattering the wall that he slammed into and flying out of. Before Gabriel could react, V1 appeared before him, rearing his leg back and started kicking nonstop at the speed of an object reaching terminal velocity, leaving several scratches in Gabriel's armor while breaking several bones underneath.

The penultimate kick splintered the ground above them, gaining the tension of several thousand cultists as they watched the angel fly into the air before V1 appeared and rammed his foot into Gabriel's face. The Judge of Hell was sent to the ground, landing on his feet as the cultists unfortunate to get in the way were reduced to slurry from the force and air pressure, the force leaving a crater that he stood in.

Gabriel let out a scream of feral rage and shot out of the crater, the force reducing more cultists to gore, his blades brandished before he screamed out, "NOTHING BUT SCRAP! I'LL SHOW YOU DIVINE JUSTICE!"

V1 merely responded with a "Bring it" taunt.

The angel cried out in feral rage as V1 then brought out his machine guns, firing recklessly as several shots hit the hordes below, vanquishing thousands in their blazing blasts. Gabriel tanked several shots, before he slashed across the machine's chestplate, nearly cleaving the machine in two before he twisted out of the way and firing the Pump Charge point blank. The explosion heated the helm, nearly burning his face before it healed underneath and he slashed V1 again, nearly cleaving off his arm as the droid refueled and rebuilt on pure liquid Warp power.

No words were said as they charged, disappearing in streaks of blue and red respectively. Trailing around the landscape, they tore apart both land and flesh, millions of cultists and daemons torn apart in their fury, destroying monuments and structures for the gods, decimating and desiccating what were considered holy sites for the blasphemous. A feral scream ripped out of Gabriel's throat and nearly breaking his voice as his blades erupted in blazing light before the machine parried it and shook the angel off his feet and let the Vanquisher pump the Pump Charge full to bursting before throwing it.

The impact caused the trigger to pull, the discharge like a missile blast that engulfed the angel who only response was a feral cry of agony before suddenly the machine threw dozens of coins at the distracted angel. Time seemed to slow, and V1 fired a single shot from the Marksman at the nearest coin.

The bullet ricocheted off every single coin, building up momentum before striking in the helm, mildly denting it as each coin, split from the force of each ricochet, speared to the angel before they pierced the armor, drawing the blood of the wearer. Gabriel only let out a grunt before he managed to slash the droid from the force of his wild slashes, only for V1 to sock him in the face in return.

The two skidded back before they drove a foot into the ground and halted their tracks. The Judge of Hell and the Iron Vanquisher were at a standstill, one fully repaired and the other healing but nearly fatigued. The angel was glaring at the machine under his helm in the desperate hope that it would burst into flames and be done with as a rumbling bubbled in his throat.

However, instead of a scream of rage and agony, the sound of laughter, cathartic and echoing, escaped from the angel's throat. It echoed across the Warp, the machine not reacting in the slightest while all other things, both material and immaterial, stared on in terror.

"IS THAT THE BEST YOU'VE GOT!?" Gabriel let out a shrill cry of cathartic laughter, before brandishing both blades and charging headlong at the machine who merely readied his guns.

V1 dashed, firing at the angel who was slashing and tanking away all the bullets and bolts from his guns, before he attempted a scissor strike, only for the drone to duck and parry a downward strike with his arm. Several spear-like projectiles formed above the angel that shot out towards the machine who either shot them out of the air or parried them back at Gabriel, who parried it back along with V1's fists and kicks before he then turned his left sword in a reverse grip and then rammed his fist into the machine's chest, denting its plates and ramming it into the ground, only for him to slam his feet into Gabriel's chest.

The two jumped back to their feet before continuing their fight. Their movements were a typhoon, a flurry of strikes, dodges and gunshots that echoed through the Warp. Whatever that was unfortunate to get in their way was practically reduced to dust, a chasm reaching unfathomable depths formed from the impact of their brawl before they trailed through the wastes. The warriors of unfathomable might skidded to a halt as they stared each other down.

"I've never had a fight like this before!" Gabriel laughed out loud like he was nearing nirvana from fighting, "Come get some BLOOD!"

V1 would have given a cocky smile if he had a mouth, deciding to give the angel his all.

The Vanquisher merely extended a hand, lightning forming around his palm before an orb of Warpfire formed that he crushed. Circuit lines began to glow multicolored with warp power, as the wing-like extensions flared with wing iridescent forms.

Gabriel was grinning under his helm, no longer wanting to hold back anymore.

Letting out a scream of might, the ground around Gabriel burst apart as a golden aura surrounded him, the crimson parts of his armor burning brightly while the golden parts of his armor were practically the sun itself.

The two then disappeared and reappeared, clashing with waves of white and gold that crashed into the landscape, practically disintegrating all forms around them. A moment, then the clash broke off in a blast of white and gold. The two then disappeared in a flurry of attacks as they tore apart the landscape with several immaterial things were shredded by their blows and strikes.

Their brawl drilled through the ground, blasting through miles of warp infested bedrock before they burst into the skies of the Warp. Twirling and slashing, firing and dodging, they were in a dance of destruction for all the Warp to see. V1 fired a variety of projectiles, some resembling burning daemonic heads, cyan blazing eyes that exploded on contact, or serpentine ghosts that possessed thousands of ethereal fangs, only for the angel to blaze them away with swaths of golden fire as they clashed and clashed, their strikes almost like speeding asteroids colliding.

"Now THIS is a fight worthy of The Emperor's will!" The Judge of Hell and the Apostate of Hate bellowed out in cathartic laughter as he flared his burning wings of golden fire, "Show me what you were made for!"

V1 launched himself off a piece of rock, spearing towards the Angel as he unholstered both revolvers and charged them with warp power, firing twin beams of Warp power that seered faster than light. The Judge of Hell brought his arms as the beam collided, resulting in a blast that seemed more like a supernova. A moment passed before Gabriel speared out of the blast, his armor having several tears, but he was laughing like he was nearing nirvana.

The angel became a veritable comet of gold, speeding so fast that he seemed more like a streak of gold. So swift that all V1 could do is sidestep the angel's strike as it rocketed past him, smashing the left arm of the droid to smithereens. Gabriel's laugh echoed out broke out through the Warp, before V1 turned to where Gabriel turned next, rocketing towards the droid with both blades drawn.

The droid rocketed toward the angel, a white-hot aura surrounding him as his leg turned burning white. With a scream, Gabriel slashed down as he reached the machine only for the latter's leg to collide with his swords, the clash sending waves of white and gold throughout the Warp as daemons and abominations alike were too terrified for a chance to interfere with their brawl.

Suddenly, a white aura surrounded V1's utterly destroyed arm as it was suddenly surrounded with tendrils of Warp power that flowed forth as the bits of his limb slowly gathered forth, mending piece by piece as they then slowly reformed the lost arm as if it had never been damaged. V1 let out a screech as its reformed fist burned white before ramming it into Gabriel's helm.

The helm was dented by the blow, the force sending Gabriel into a barren planetoid, creating a massive crater where he landed. V1 landed nearby, watching the purple sky turn red from his very presence. The angel forced himself to stand, watching the machine come closer.

Gabriel was laughing, his muscles and veins overflowing with adrenaline, forcing fatigue to stay down as he forced himself to stand, his wings blazing like the stars themselves as the rocks around him melted from the sheer heat irradiating from him. His armor began to mend itself as his sword were ablaze with holy fire, any daemon or chaotic being fleeing for their lives as he rose from the crater.

"Come on, machine! Fight me like an ANIMAL!" Gabriel screamed out in utter excitement, brandishing his flaming swords at the machine, "I'll show you TRUE splendor!"

The Vanquisher merely twirled his revolvers in his hands, approaching them with even so much as a hint of fear before he got an idea. Instead of shooting, the machine holstered his guns before bringing up his fists in a challenging manner.

Gabriel practically beamed with excitement, sheathing his swords and bringing up his fists.

The two mighty beings leapt at each other, ready to end this brawl. The Vanquisher uppercuts the angel who responded with a right hook, only for the machine to hook his arm and strike in the chest and face before the angel roundhouse kicked the droid in the chest, sending him back as he skidded to a halt. The angel charged but the machine threw a punch, their fists connected that blasted the ground around them apart, before their strikes turned into a barely visible flurry.

The wind became a typhoon, the ground shook as debris rose into the air, their knuckles becoming molten orange from the force of their strikes, the planet pulsing as it sensed the two titans brawling and was terrified. Both upper cut each other, before they both socked each other in the jaws, and both striking each other in the chest, sending the other back as they were matched blow for blow.

V1 merely forced his broken neck in place as it was repaired by tendrils of Warp power, while Gabriel merely rolled his shoulders, not fazed by his cracked jaw. V1 then disappeared in a blur, the ground where he was now cracked before reappearing in front of the angel with his arm reared back. However, the angel was ready as he brought up his arm, blocking the punch as the ground where he stood caved before he socked the drone in the chest before grabbing the machine and throwing him to the ground. Before the machine could recover, Gabriel unleashed a barrage of blows to the machine, the force creating an ever-deepening crater with each strike.

Gabriel let out a veritable howl as he raised his fist for the final strike, only for V1 to dash away at the last second, causing his fist to embed itself in the earth with the force nearly splitting the planet in half. Several strikes then came from V1 and connected to Gabriel's face and chest, continuing on and on, becoming blurs as his strikes became too fast for the angel to react.

Two more strikes to the head and a kick to finish him off. The kick denting his chest plate as a sonic boom echoed and split the ground while Gabriel was sent flying, crashing into the side of the crevasse.

The Judge of Hell panted and panted, still exhilarated by the fight. The rush of fighting a superior foe, the struggle of forcing yourself to draw from the deepest depths of your strength, the thrill of trying to overcome even when you are outmatched, and the roar of your body as it struggled against a foe. It was wonderful! He wanted to continue this fight to the end of time!

...But he couldn't. His lord asked of him that he prepare for the coming dawn, which meant that he had to finish this fight here and now.

Gabriel let out a bellowing roar as the golden aura blazed, shattering the crevasse wall as he curled his hand into a fist and neared it back. V1, unflinching as the bellowing wind and rocks flying towards him, merely curled his hand into a fist, the white aura blazing around him as wind and rocks flailed around him.

The storm blasted through the planet, material and immaterial watching in terror as the fight between these two titans reaches a climax.

The two charged, screaming out as they speared towards each other like comets of nuclear annihilation.

Their fists collided in a clash of fire and death.

The planet blazed; the crust around them was uprooted as the clash destroyed all traces of the landscape as an explosion of white and gold erupted, white-hot waves reduced uninhabited wastes to hot slags of molten stone, eruptions of pure force blasted whatever was left of the mountains around them, volcanos erupting from the force of their clash, a pillar of white and gold erupting from the epicenter.

The Judge of Hell's scream nearly broke his vocal cords as he and the machine struggled, the latter suffering cracks that spread throughout his arm. V1 poured it in his all, forcing all his warp reserves into his arm and continuing to press on before the winner was declared.

Gabriel was thrown back with his chestplate caved in and was sent flying, cleaving the landscape into a million-mile cavern, while V1's arm was shattered, and his chest burst over from the overexertion with fountains of blood spraying from his wounds.

(Music ends)

The storm became quiet as the audience of the immaterial awaited with bated breath who was the winner of the match. The planet began rapidly cooling as the lava began to harden, clouds of smoke and ash covered the skies, meanwhile the two titans of power were nowhere to be seen.

One of the daemons who had been broadcasting the whole fight across the Warp for the enjoyment of the Gods and the Princes asked the technician, "What are you waiting for you idiots?! Get a closer look!"

The Horrors under his employment immediately began working on the equipment with them, having the camera zoom into the planet where the epicenter of destruction laid.

There, through the smoky they saw V1 with an aura around his arm, the pieces of his destroyed arm coming back together as they mended back together slowly, weaving together until his arm was reformed anew. Soon he trailed towards the fallen form of Gabriel. The Judge of Hell and the Apostate of Hate laid in a pool of his own blood, a hand to his chest as he breathed heavily, feeling the wounds and armor mend themselves as he stared at the form of V1 approaching him.

"Twice!? Beaten by an object... Twice! I've only known the taste of victory, but this taste..." Gabriel looked at his trembling hand, stained in his own blood, "Is- Is this my blood? Haha- I've never known such... Such... relief...? I- I need some time to think... We will meet again, machine. May your woes be many... and your days few."

With that, Gabriel, the Judge of Hell and the Apostate of Hate, warped away.

As the Supreme Machine was left by his lonesome on the planet, someone was watching. Someone who was interested in his killing ability.

"Ah, so this wee clanker can fight?"

---

A simple creature, silver and trout-like, swam in the river of black water resembling oil or sludge. Its red eyes that illuminated the path and the feelers around its mouth allowed it to navigate via currents and algae, allowing it to swim through even the darkest of currents. More of its kind were more spread out and fed on algae while it was still looking.

Suddenly, a spear impaled the fish through the waist before it was ripped from the water into the air. The spear held by a man in a cloak of hides was then placed down and then the fish was ripped off.

"Finally..." A sigh came from the grill that covered the man's mouth before he walked to a campsite, consisting only of a tent and a campfire which was currently alit with white flames. The traveler sat down, letting the fire show his face; covered in a held with the right side being bronze and the left side being nothing but blackness.

Slade had changed during the long years in the Warp, not the same man he was before.

Now he was cloaked in a grey fur sleeved cape with a large hood that concealed his head and body, save for his black clawed hands. Beneath the hooded cape, Slade had grown at least two feet in height, now longer and leaner, his suit having fused to his flesh making it more of a carapace of overlapping silver plates than a suit, black clawed hands, his knees now bent backwards like a horse's or goat's, complete with black hoof-like pads that replaced his feet.

Slade began to notice that he no longer needed to eat or sleep, only doing so out of habit rather than necessity, and it seemed that he could never be poisoned as he had eaten a thousand different things that would be considered disgusting or inedible and he was fine. He also found that he no longer needed to use the bathroom, which was handy cause he didn't know which orifice was responsible for disposing waste.

Done with reminiscing, he skewered the fish onto the pole and began cooking it, waiting until the white-hot flames can cook it properly. After a minute or so under the extremely hot flames, he retracted the thoroughly cooked fish from the fire.

The grill on his mask then opened, revealing a maw of fangs that then proceeded to devour the fish whole. Ripping the still intact skeleton of the fish out of his mouth, Slade gulped the whole thing down, feeling whatever his stomach had become begin digesting it immediately.

Regardless of his meal, Slade grumbled thinking about how he ended up here.

After he was betrayed and cast into the fire, Slade found himself wandering the Warp, killing and skinning terrible things so that he could create his cloak to hide himself from the horrors permeating the immaterial. It's soft and furred exterior protecting him from the cold and flaying winds of whatever planet he was currently on.

It was odd, the socket where his left eye originally was seemed to be filled with some... mass that let him see into the currents of the Warp, letting him traverse across the plane as if sailing the seas. Of course, one needs a way to actually get through the Warp if they want to sail it. But each over time, he felt the armor fuse to his flesh, his leg bones bending backwards after he had broken them in a fight, and his feet regrow as the hoof-like pads that they were now after he chopped them off when he got stuck in the wreck of a ship.

Again, it was odd, but you tended to become numb to oddness when you see the chaotic tides of the Warp.

Seriously, how does one function with eyeballs in place internal organs?

Regardless, he had to get out of this damned dimension somehow. Surviving became harder and harder as he tried to maintain his sanity. Or maybe he had snapped so hard that he went full circle to becoming sane again. It was really hard to tell at this point.

Again, regardless, he had to get out of here.

After finishing his fish, Slade retreated to his tent and closed his eye to sleep, more out of habit than necessity.

XXX

Almost two months after that day (possibly as there was no way to tell time in the Warp), Slade found himself blending into the hordes traveling through the Warp via a ship that happened to come to the planet he was on to raid for supplies and slaves. Thankfully, whomever was running this ship had few enough guards so that he could sneak into the ship without any of them noticing, after grabbing a straw wide brimmed hat.

Several moments later, he found himself hiding with the dregs so that they wouldn't find him. There, they were clad in little more than rags and tatters that hid their broken bodies, some of their faces having either too many or too few features, curled up for warmth and some semblance of comfort in this crushing existence. Some were imbibing drinks made from the dirtiest and grimiest chemical runoff from the machines of the ship to escape from reality of being stuck in this ship.

What he assumed was an hour later, the ship began to move, signifying that the damn thing was finally moving. After they felt it moving, he peered out of the hatch that he was hiding in to check for any guards around him.

Seeing that the guards seldomly patrolled the corridors of the ship, Slade decided to indulge his curiosity and explore the ship.

As he trekked down, Slade noted that the corridors had an odd quality to them, almost like they were deforming under the pressures of the Warp, to the point where he swore one of the corridors was wholly organic and the floor of another tinkling like crystals or glass, crushing under his hooves. An eyebrow raised under his helm as he eyed a piece on the ground before bending down and picking it up.

It was a piece of bone and crystal, split in half, examining it as one part refracted light and another part showing an image of... something that he couldn't make heads or tails of.

Deciding it was interesting, Slade merely placed it in one of the pockets he made into his cloak before walking off.

A sound came from beneath his feet, causing his gaze to turn to a small hole in the ground. The cloaked man knelt down, staring through with his single eye.

What he saw under the floor was an ordinary looking corridor if one didn't count being utterly stained in blood and rust, with the occasional skull littered on the rusted floor. Suddenly, the lumbering footsteps of something rang through the corridor beneath, before some kind of... creature appeared in the hall.

It was massive, walking on a pair of trunk-like legs that seemed to be fused to pieces of red armor that contrasted the black course fur, flat feet with blunt metallic claws. The torso was barrel shaped with rusted scraps cobbled and welded together in a vain attempt to hide the spikes, black course fur, and scales that dotted the chest and back, broad shoulders hidden by massive jagged and ruined pauldrons that vaguely showed a pair of crossed crimson sabres beneath a small crimson skull on a field of ruined white.

The thing's arms were covered in the same course black fur, terminating in vast rending claws of burning crimson, bone ridges and jagged trims formed around the pieces of armor that seemed to now be incorporated into its biology. The head was the worst, a crown of horns, three pairs of burning crimson eyes, and a mouth of jutting dagger-like teeth. Steam vented from its throat, before its six eyes turned to a hole in the ceiling.

A scent it never smelt before came to it as it flicked its tongue out, tasting the air as drool glistened off its many fangs before turning to the hole again. Its eyes narrowed when it didn't see anything, before it lost interest and walked away.

Slade had backed away from the hole the second the thing turned its gaze towards him, hearing it walk away with disinterest. Silently releasing a sigh of relief, the cloaked man walked away, hoping that the thing underground stays where it is.

He came to another corridor that ended in a bolted door, hermetically sealed with what he assumed to be a hand scanner in the form of a green electronic screen with a handprint. An exhale and Slade looked around the corridor for something, until his eye turned to the floor where a severed hand laid. Frowning under his helm, Slade picked the severed limb up before placing it against the screen.

A light ran up and down the hand for a moment before a ping came and the doors opened, separating in a series of complex mechanisms and parts that unveiled a dark room filled with rows of walkways. Slade ducked down and entered in the massive room, feeling around the side of the wall for any kind of lightswitch, before his hand felt a switch. His eye was on the seemingly endless darkness permeating the room before his finger flicked the switch.

Rows of lights suddenly flared on, revealing what appeared to be several hundred cylindrical machines, maybe vats or tanks. He turned his head to the walkway that showed several hundred tubes with neon green fluid flowing under the floors, pistons and hydraulics working rapidly to keep whatever this thing was up and running, pumps and devices going off randomly.

Slade grew curious as he came to another platform, that housed another screen that showed what appeared to be a series of messages or voice mails. Deciding to indulge in his curiosity, Slade selected a certain message and let it play out on the side speakers.

"Sir, while we are able to deliver these caches of Dark Age tech to you, I have to say that none of us can make head or tail of these machines. Not just their power source, but their mechanisms, their functions, even their designs. We've managed to reverse engineer somethings, but beside that this Dark Age tech is too advanced for us to decipher."

Slade raised an eyebrow, wondering what Dark Age tech could mean before playing the next message.

"To the Marquis of Locusts, we need some assistance with the All-Seeing Eye. It seems that it's been increasing the amount of information that its pulling from the void along with several other magnitudes worth of data. My lord, the All-Seeing Eye seems to be... for lack of a better word, siphoning off random data that it picked up in the Warp before collecting it and trying to make something of it. We need you to come and help with the All-Seeing Eye."

Suddenly, before he could do anything more, the screen glitched out, before becoming blank save for a single message in bright green.

COME. I AM WAITING IN THE TOWER.

Slade blinked before a doorway opened, revealing a sterile white corridor.

Deciding he might as well, Slade slowly crept to the narrow corridor that suddenly appeared. However, after a several minute walk with nothing in the corridor to note of, save for a rather smokey smell that began to perforate, he emerged from the tunnel.

...only to nearly gape in shock.

(Fallout 1 OST- City of Lost Angels)

It was a massive tower of servers and machines, millions of wires weaving in and out, lights blinking as they kept filing entire planets worth of information. Slade soon came by massive vats filled with vivid neon green fluid, showing humanoid shapes of various sizes, some in the throes of agony while others hung limply with wires running through their skulls. He then saw that there were thousands of these vats, cables and tubes connected to random points, likely to power it and resupply fluid for whatever was coming from these things.

A platform soon came into view with another screen on its guardrails that merely showed in blue: COME.

Feeling like he had come too far, Slade stepped on. As the platform elevated, more data banks and wires came into view, processors filtering out streams of information mined from somewhere in the void, factory lines that produced a myriad of guns and equipment that he had never seen before, several hundred droids that were vaguely humanoid marching.

Soon however, the platform stopped to reveal a massive area, filled with processors and monitors showing several hundred blueprints being deconstructed and reconstructed before being combined together to create new and terrifying forms. Several wires running power enough to charge entire cities, tubes pumping, for lack of a better word, stuff into a massive machine that resembled a mechanical medically accurate heart.

Suddenly, the heart parted to reveal the most shocking part. It was a massive glass tank filled with clear fluid, inside was a small child, skill pale with darkened veins, eyes filled with pus and fluid, limbs seemingly atrophied from misuse. The child was connected to a series of wires and tubes that likely kept whatever was left of him healthy and viable.

However, Slade recognized the child in the tank.

"Gizmo?"

The child's eyes turned to Slade, almost having a forlorn expression in his face.

"GIZMO IS DEAD." The Machine spoke in an electric and reverberating voice from numerous speakers, "I AM THE ALL-SEEING EYE."

(Music Ends)

"And how did you become the 'All-Seeing Eye?'" Slade said with a bemused look in his eye, "From what I see, your eyes barely seemed functional at all."

The thing that used to be Gizmo was silent before he spoke again, "I WAS CALLED HERE. BY WONDEROUS ACCIDENT. I MET THE MARQUIS AND ABSORBED THE CONTENTS OF HIS LIBERARY, LEARNT ALL THERE COULD BE. I BECAME HIS APPRENTICE. AND YET I STILL WANTED MORE. SO, WE MADE A DEAL."

Gizmo's clear eyes motioned to the machine around him, "THIS MACHINE WAS CREATED BY ONE WHO BLENDED BOTH MACHINERY AND MAGIC. IT COULD REACH INTO THE WARP AND PULL IN THE KNOWLEDGE LOST TO TIME. HOWEVER, THE MENTAL STRAIN REDUCED ALL OUR SUBJECTS TO LITTLE MORE THAN PROTOPLASM AND ELECTRONS. SO, I VOLUNTEERED. THEY TORE ME APART AND PUT ME BACK TOGETHER WITHIN THIS MACHINE."

Slade blinked at the sentence before Gizmo's eyes turned back to him.

"THERE WAS A TIME WHEN I WANTED TO KNOW ALL IN THE UNIVERSE." Gizmo stated, "THAT TIME HAS PASSED."

"And what do you see?"

"I SEE EVERYTHING." The machine replied, "I SEE THE LIES, THE TRUTHS, THE HYPOCRISIES. I REACH INTO THE VOID AND PULL THE LOST KNOWLEDGE FROM THE SANDS OF TIME."

"I see." Slade said, looking around the large machine that one of the HIVE students had become, "If you don't mind me asking, what is this ship?"

"THIS SHIP WAS SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL ONCE, WHEN SCIENCE AND PROGRESS WERE THE LIGHTS OF HUMANITY. NOW IT IS SOMETHING PROPHANE AND DECADENT." The machine said, several data-slates emerging from the walls and consoles for reference of its many great wonders, "IT HOUSES GENEFORGES, SPECTRAL HARVESTERS, MEN OF IRON AND STONE AND GOLD, AND MACHINES INDISTINGUISHABLE FROM MAGIC."

Slade looked at the data-slates, impressed at the designs and mechanics of these things, before turning back to the child in the tanks, "Do you want me to disconnect you from the Eye? Do you want to die?"

"NO." The machine replied, "THIS IS MY FATE. I CHOSE THIS FATE, I MUST LIVE IT. ALL I HAVE LEFT IS TO USE THIS KNOWLEDGE TO BUILD THINGS FROM THE VOID. I HAVE ALL THAT I EVER WANTED."

"So, why did you have me come here?"

"...I JUST WANTED TO SEE SOMEONE I USED TO KNOW."

The machine's sad confession made Slade blink, surprised that Gizmo still had human sentiment left.

"MY FRIENDS IN HIVE HAVE EITHER DIED OR FALLEN TO THE DARK GODS. MY GENIUS IS USED AS A FACTORUM. THE BROTHERHOOD HAS FRACTURED. AND MY TREASURED SCHOOL IS NOW A SCHOOL FOR CHAOS. THERE IS NO MORE HOPE FOR ME." Gizmo explained to the man who hired him all those years ago, "I ONLY WANTED TO SPARE YOU FROM THE MONSTERS ON THIS SHIP."

Slade remained stoic at hearing this, before the cloak survivor slowly walked up to the glass tank and placed a hand on the glass, letting the child see the emotionless single eye staring back.

"I KNOW YOU FEEL NOTHING, BUT I AM GLAD THAT YOU ARE HERE REGARDLESS." Gizmo said as the flabby blackened lips on his face curled into the barest traces of a rueful smile, "I CAN CREATE A WAY OUT OF THE WARP FOR YOU."

Slade blinked in surprise.

"THINK OF IT AS MY LAST ACT TO YOU." The All-Seeing Eye said, giving a semblance of thanks, "IF YOU SEE CYBORG AGAIN... TELL HIM, I'M SORRY."

Slade nodded and slowly left the All-Seeing Eye to its devices as the world seemed to grey.

XXX

Necromunda

945.M41

Slade never thought he'd miss something as mundane as gravity. Hell, he'd take anything over being trapped in the Warp for an unknown number of months. Or years. It was impossible to tell time in the Warp.

However, the world of Necromunda seemed to be the worst place he could have landed.

Slade found himself subsisting on starch composed from the corpses infesting the underhives, or forced to subsist on something that the locals called 'Scrap.' What was Scrap? Oh, just fat and protein collected from a mountainous bung of solid fat.

Despite his revulsion, he was starving, and Scrap actually tasted good for something that was literally just fat, effluvium and grease.

However, the greatest problem for him in Necromunda were the people.

Each street flooded with murders and gang members, but he caught a slaver leading some unlucky ones, unfed, clothed in rags, dampened in dust from the machines that kept the machine city running, and thin limbs hooked in chains. Petulantly yanks or pulling, in a desperate futile gamble to escape. The one leading yank the bundle of a hundred chains, dozens ripped off their balance and onto the unforgiving metal walkways of the hives.

Disgusting but the monsters were greater than that in the hives.

The one that he avoided the most was overall Cult of Redemption believes that the God-Emperor of Mankind is manifest proof of mankind's holy destiny to rule the stars, but as they are comprised mostly of poor citizens with limited education, they very rarely factor in what the Xenos have to say upon the matter. In their minds, the only thing keeping mankind from its destiny is its own sinfulness. So, they take it upon themselves to "remove" the sins which are holding back mankind.

Crucially, the Redemption believes that three sins surpass all others:

Mutation is sin and corruption made manifest on the human body.

Witchcraft is the ability to use unnatural powers.

Heresy is refusing the truth of the Redemption, which pretty much encompasses everyone not part of the Cult.

Many variants of the redemptionist creed believe that too much individuality is a sin, and therefore wear masks to conceal their identities. Therefore when "on business" they are relatively uniform wherever they appear, with a particular tendency to wear the colour red and full-face concealing KKK masks and have a preference for wielding flame or chain weapons. Unless they are from one of the hardcore varieties of the creed who are required to wear masks all of the time, they can appear just as typical as the next Imperial citizen when not on the job, though perhaps with a heightened sense of irritability and racism over and above that of your average Joe living in the 41st Millennium.

Slade thankfully could hide his mutations through the fur cloak that he always kept on him, letting him hide in the both the Underhive and the Warp. Each moment that he saw the Redemptionists was a moment of terror and strife as he tried to hide in the dark so that he couldn't be found.

Thankfully, either the people were idiots, or he was really good at hiding. Eventually however, he had to get some weaponry if he wanted to survive and thrive.

And with that he looked at HIVE, his master crafted gun. It was both a Bolt pistol, and flamer in one. And enhanced by Warp power; now never running out of ammo or fuel and having a few strange abilities on hand. And suffice to say, it has saved his life on more than one occasion.

And to survive, he either had to get higher in the Underhive or lower.

However, the part of the Underhive that he was currently in seemed... strange, even for this world. The corridors seemed less covered in grime and rust than before, and the temperature fluxed almost, like something both extremely hot and extremely cold were in the same room. The way was silent, almost too silent, cleaving out whispers that rang in his ears.

Soon, as he kept wandering, the flux became stronger and stronger as whatever was emitting the heat and cold grew closer. An area soon came into view, one part blistering with heat and the other frozen in cold.

It was a massive expanse, one side possessing a blazing storm of fire and the other a blistering storm of snow, in front of him were two wolves, massive and larger the size of a full-grown Space Marine. Slade blinked when he saw the two giant wolves before him, one black as night with burning red eyes and the other white as snow with cold sapphire eyes. Both were still and awaiting Slade to do something.

Slade decided to break the silence as he asked, "Who are you?"

"I am Freki." The black wolf answered.

"And I am Geri." The white wolf answered.

"We know who you are, Slade." Freki continued, disregarding Slade's surprised look, "We know you were trapped in the Warp for time impossible. You wish to be rid of the Warp, but you never will. When one is touched by the Warp, you will never escape it. So, then do what you must to prevent others."

"We can stand idle no longer." Geri continued, "Take us to the Warp and we will aid you however we can. It is time for the Gods to see that they are not as powerful as they believe."

Suddenly, the two wolves disappeared as the storms shrunk and coiled around his arm, before a sigil burned into his palm, causing him to cry out in pain. Falling to his knees, Slade began panting heavily to cope with the agony in his arm, looking to see a sigil that resembled a snarling wolf burned onto his palm. Shaking his hand to waft off the pain, Slade stood up and noticed that he wasn't in the Underhive anymore.

While it would have been hard, the purple, orange, red, and pink skies made it pretty clear where he was.

Suddenly, a roar caused Slade to turn, seeing the forms of Ravagers, malevolent spirits possessing the dead with haphazard armor and weapons at their side. A Ravager suddenly broke from the group and made a rush for him.

Slade sighed, un-slung HIVE, and prepared to resume his slaying. With both battle axes cocked back, the daemon leaped into the air… and was promptly ripped in half by two streaks, one black and one white.

Slade blinked. The other Possessed forms froze. Two very familiar looking black and white wolves walked calmly up to Slade, each with one half of the Ravager in its mouth, bringing it to him like a Frisbee. The two wolves dropped the now dead demon and looked at him intently.

"Well…" Slade cocked an eyebrow as he lowered his Bolt Pistol. "This is certainly new."

Nothing changed in Freki and Geri. Then something came to Slade, something he needed to try.

"Sit." Slade commanded.

The wolves obeyed.

"Speak."

Together, they barked a single time.

Slade then eyed the remaining Army of the Fallen with a gleam in his eye that caused them to step back before he raised a hand and pointed.

"Sick 'em."

The Fenrisian Wolves turned, snarled, and leaped at the skeletons.

"Not bad." Slade crossed his arms and watched Freki and Geri tear apart the demon army like they were poorly made chew toys. "I wonder if they're house broken?"

XXX

Slade kept wandering through the Warp, noticing that it had both changed completely and yet it didn't change at all. Even when he could read the tides, they seemed both random and controlled, almost like a song that followed a discordant melody. Even the swarms of daemons that flitted under the sea like shadows, numbering in the millions or billions, yet controlled like a school of fish or murder of crows.

Yet, they seemed beautiful to look at when you were planet bound, almost like clouds that glistened in the lights that resemble the suns.

The cloaked wanderer just grumbled as he used Freki as a mount with Geri trailing behind, wandering through what appeared to be an area of some daemon world that seemed to be under a never-ending snowstorm. The wolves seemed to be right at home, with Slade barely fazed as his cloak protected him from the cold. The heat coming from Freki's mouth helped as well.

Eventually, however, Slade had to stop and rest, again out of habit than necessity. It was a small cave, covered in snow and dim enough for him and the wolves to come into and sleep.

Thankfully, the wolves acted almost like a blanket, curling next to him like they were packmates, Freki providing enough heat to keep him warm and Geri keeping the heat in check from burning him alive.

He didn't hear the heavy footfalls of someone approaching, or Freki and Geri looking up from their slumber.

---

(TTS Stringstorm OST- 13:06 music)

Meanwhile in another part of the Warp, a sizable portion of the Imperial Inquisition had been banished to the Warp. Parts of them were the Ordo Malleus, Order Hereticus, Order Xenos, Sisters of Battle, Deathwatch, Inquisitorial Stromtroopers, and the Taurox.

Leading them was Fyodor Karamazov, an old man with a white beard in a black uniform with a golden mechanical plate on his chest, pauldrons, belt, gauntlets, and a sword in his right hand. He was currently sitting on his Throne of Judgement, an ancient walking cathedral presented to him following the Abraxan purges of 930.M41. The throne is well-armed, and its bulk more than compensates for its master's less than imposing physical presence, so Karamazov long ago bound it into the pomp and ceremony of his trials. On the right shoulder of the machine was Leximechanic Dominique, Fyodor's servitor scribe who was somehow not lobotomized and on the left shoulder was a lobotomized servitor who manned the heavy bolter turret.

Among his retinue were Grand Master of the Grey Knights Elirush, an astartes in gaudy golden armor with a grill augment on his mouth, Inquisitor Donklas who was dressed in all black with a trench coat and a mask with glowing red lenses, and lastly was Adrielle Quist, a woman with bobbed black hair and an ocular augment and dressed in red robes and golden armor.

Infront of them was a giant warrior, easily standing at around 2.1 metres (7 feet), encased in bulky silver armour with surprisingly large pauldrons. In his right hand was an immense sword, a sword nearly as long as the warrior was tall. A shield bearing a symbol of a sword behind an open book was held in his left. His face was aged, and possessed a moustache and goatee of grey-hair. This is Kaldor Draigo, Supreme Grand Master of the Grey Knights.

"You!" Fyodor called out to the knight, "Represent yourself! Your name, and your purpose in this realm.

"According to the ruling decrees of the Grey Knights, and the oath taken upon my initiation as Supreme Grand Master!" Draigo said before he got in close to Fyodor and whispered not so quietly.

(Music ends)

"It's a secret."

"Oh." Fyodor said in surprise.

However, someone did recognize him. Someone who had not seen him in so many years.

"Supreme Grand Master Kaldor Draigo..." Grand Master Elirush said in a tone of awe and respect, "Is that really you?"

"How did you know my well-kept secret?!" Draigo screamed out to Elirush, surprising both him and the others, "Have you made a visit to my ear?! HAVE YOU?!"

"Holy Emperor... It really is you!" Elirush breathed before he fell to his knees as did the other Grey Knights, to the surprise of the other Inquisitors, "It is such an honor to meet the most esteemed of all Grey Knights in the galaxy!"

"Have you seen my sword anywhere? I cannot find it." Draigo randomly asked out loud, apparently so divorced from reality that he cannot conceive that he was in fact holding his sword or that his arm was twisting out of his socket, and he showed no sign of pain whatsoever.

"It's..." Fyodor said, bewildered at Draigo's utter divorce from reality, "It's in your hand."

"That is a LIE!" Draigo shouted to the Inquisitor, his arm still twisting like a handle, "hands do not exist in my reality..."

Fyodor could only stare, along with the other Inquisitors before he put a hand to his face in exasperation, "Just... Just stop. Please."

"Wow, this man is so deep I could drown him." Dominique remarked, actually impressed at the depths of insanity that the Supreme Grand Master of the Grey Knights sank to during his time trapped in the Warp.

"Stopping is not an option!" Draigo shouted in response to Fyodor, "COME! We must go before it is too late!" Draigo then let out a valiant warcry before charging like a raging bloodthrister, several Inquistors and others diving out of the way as he rocketed into a nearby cliffside, crashing through it and leaving a massive hole that then got bigger when the cracks spread and several more pieces of rock and metal fell to expand the opening.

The Inquisition stared at the opening and looked at each other, wondering if they should follow the Supreme Grand Master.

"Careful!" Inquisitor Donklas yelled out before any of them could enter, "We're in the Warp, after all. It could be a daemon trying to trick us..."

"Or a GENESTEALER." Adrielle yelled, still obsessed with killing Genestealers.

"Excellent thinking, my children." Fyodor said, still deluded into believing that he is the Emperor reincarnated, "It might be a hallucination. But, if he is who he claims to be, we cannot afford to let him go... However, if he is a daemon, we can simply kill him in my name. It's a win-win."

The others nodded, seeing the logic in that before Elirush yelled "Quick! After our leadeeeeeeeeer!" He drew out the e as he rushed into the newly made cave with the others following behind.

"He's the mind of our generation!" Dominque chimed in.

Unseen to them, a massive figure with two others behind were watching them, his breath and presence causing the land to freeze and snow to fall that smother the hot pink flames around them.

XXX

Back with the Lord Inquisitor and his army, when they stepped into the cave, they were greeted with a surreal sight. Instead of a massive cave of rock and metal, they had befallen a cavern system covered in ice and snow, the latter falling softly and silently. Stalactites dotted the ceiling of the caverns, almost like fangs in a maw of a wolf's jaw.

The Inquisition stopped when they lost sight of Draigo, looking around with Fyodor asking out loud, "Where did he go?"

"Where in the Warp is Kaldor Draigo?" Dominique asked, his voice taking on a more robotic tone when he got to Draigo's name.

Suddenly, a voice, deep and rugged, came from the dark recesses of the caverns.

"Are ye really trying to follow him?" The voice then snickered darkly, as all the Inquisitors looked around to find the source of the voice, "You must be fresh meat..."

Fyodor, incensed by the voice's casual tone to his presence, growled and yelled out, "Who DARES insult my most sacred presence?!"

Suddenly, there was a clank of heavy armored legs gained their attention as they turned to the source... only for their jaws to drop in horror.

"Holy Emperor..." Elirush breathed in shock, grasping his glaive in fear and shock.

"Is... is that?" Donklas stuttered in disbelief.

"You're that idiot who put a GIANT TYRANID into the seas of Fenris!" Adrielle yelled out before she flopped to the floor for some reason.

"HOLY SHIT, IT'S A CAT-MAN!" Dominique yelled out from his seat at the Throne of Judgement.

Leman Russ was revealed in full for all to see, revealed in blue grey armor with golden trims, a wolf fur cape and loincloth, his hair white as snow tied in a thick and long wolftail, a thick beard and mustache. Behind him were Slade and V1, standing in silence as they watched him

"Hmm..." Leman made a sound of interest as he stared them down stoically, "You seem too pompous to be cultists, and yet... you aren't furry enough to be Wulfen. You must be...Inquisitors?

"Oh, brilliant deduction." Fyodor sarcastically remarked before deciding to introduce himself, "You may have here of me. Throughout most of my life, I have gone by the name Lord Inquisitor Fyodor Karamazov, High Lord of Terra and Representative of the God-Emperor's Holy Inquisition!"

"That is certainly interesting..." Leman remained stoic but continued on, "You bear many titles. All of them drenched in cold blood, I can sense."

"Though that might be true, who are you to assume this?" Fyodor questioned the Primarch.

"I am the Primarch of the Vlka Fenryka, Leman Russ," Leman revealed to the Inquisition, who's eyes went wide, and their jaws dropped, "The Wolf King of Fenris, and the Emperor's Executioner."

"Well... I can only assume that your own titles have not gone without bloodshed." Fyodor inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Perhaps." Leman confirmed bluntly, "Such may even be the reason I am here in the first place."

"I presume we are fairly alike, you and I..." Fyodor concluded again with a raised eyebrow.

"Indeed, Inquisitor. Indeed." Leman concluded, his stare seeming to intensify.

The tension nearly became unbearable, each inquisitor reaching for their weapons in case they would have to fight the Primarch. When suddenly, Leman gained a mocking grin before deciding to absolutely tear down this inquisitor.

"Except I would never ride in a chair that walk when I have a pair of functioning legs!" Leman mocked while raising one of his legs in demonstration, "I mean, for Helavete's sake, you look like you haven't fought or fucked anything for decades, you MILKSOP. Have you no wolves?!"

Fyodor, understandably and totally unprepared for the roasting, could only sputtered for a few moments while the other Inquisitors struggled to hold their laughter in before yelling out indignantly, "HEY! What is that supposed to mean?!"

"You need to spend more time being raised by wolves, you tarnished old skeleton." Russ jovially replied, "FOR WOLVES ARE STRONK!" He then started flexing, nearly making the Sisters of Battle catatonic as they stared at his big beefy arms.

Suddenly, all of them, including Leman and the two, jump when Draigo fell through the ceiling and screamed at the top of his three lungs, "I WILL AVENGE YOU, JANUUUUUS!" The mad Supreme Grand Master then vanished back into the floor.

"What kind of father have I been...?" Fyodor asked still deluded, for the first time in his life, feeling empathy as he quietly sobbed, regretting what should have been done with the Primarchs.

XXX

It was a few hours, or days (you can never tell in the Warp), later, the others managed to acclimate and gathered up while Russ made an announcement for them while Slade and V1 watched.

"Alrite, ya syrup sippers!" Leman began emphatically, "Welcome to the wonderful reality of being stuck in this shit-ridden galactic fjord. Just like yours truly!"

"Technically it's not galactic," one of the Guardsmen spoke up, against his better judgement. And Russ had to admire the balls on him for doing so. Even if it was irritating. "It's actually the immaterial counterpart to the material realm in which we normally resi-"

"OI, REALLY NOW?" Russ interrupted. "Did ya REEAAD about that somewhere?"

The stormtrooper hesitantly continued, knowing it was damned if he did, damned if he didn't, "Y-yeah. In a book abou-"

Fyodor interrupted first, "HERETIC!"

"NEEEEERD!"

The Stormtrooper, knowing that his fate is sealed, only looked down, "Aw, chucks."

"Great, a bunch of Imperials who are practically high school bullies." Slade drawled sarcastically, crossing his arms as he walked up to them. V1 was behind him, and the Imperials were more surprised of the machine than anything.

"How did you get here?" Fyodor inquires of the supervillain.

"Oh, you know, just decided to take a vacation. You know the sights here are just wonderful." Slade drawled sarcastically, before glaring off into the distance, "It doesn't matter now. If you all want to survive the Warp, you can only turn to me, V and Russ.

"You misunderstand." Fyodor corrected the mercenary's thoughts, causing Slade to raise an eyebrow, "We do not merely wish to survive the Warp; we wish to escape it and return to Terra!"

"Hahahahahahaha! Escape the Warp, you?" Slade laughed at Fyodor's proclamation before steeling himself, "Where do we even begin? Well, first Russ and I need everyone here to represent themselves. Who are you all and what's your purpose?"

First up was Fyodor, "I am Fyodor Karamazov, the Inquisitorial Representative of the High Lords of Terra and the savior of Imperium of Man." Dominique then chimed in, "And I am Leximechanic Dominique! Servitor scribe of Fyodor Karamazov!"

Next were some Astartes in grey armor with Elirish speaking up, "The Grey Knights and the Ordo Malleus present! We shall search out and kill ALL OF THE DAEMONS!"

Next was Donklas and the Inquisitors of the Ordo Hereticus, "The Ordo Hereticus, present." They then glared fiercely at the stormtrooper that corrected Russ earlier, who recoiled, knowing what fate awaited him, "We're going to kill that stormtrooper in a bit. Unless he explodes by himself. Like the others." The Witch Hunters were trembling with excitement at the thought of purging heretics. His possibly aroused snicker was accompanied by the Extremely muted and faint cry of "FUCKING HERETIIIICS!" in the distance.

Next were Canoness Albia Thorne with a large army of Sisters of Battle. "The Sisters of Battle of the Adeptes Sororitas, present!" A pause, then the Canoness awkwardly explained the reality of their situation, "Well... some of us at least. The Ecclesiarchy breaking apart and everything else drove some of us a bit mad... But uh, anyway, PURGE THE HERETICS!"

Adrielle Quist then chirped in with the Ordo Xenos, "Ordo Xenos, Present! We're here to kill GENESTEALERS!~" Slade was fairly certain the Inquisitors around her cheered like school children.

Next was Calato, a Dark Angel, along with some rather edgy looking Astartes. "Deathwatch, represent!" he said with all the aggressive pride of a lion defending its territory from a pup, "Lion for life, dogfucker!" The other Astartes immediately gasped and recoiled at that, knowing the Primarch wouldn't react well to that insult.

The guardsmen who'd piped up to correct Russ was talking now, "Inquisitorial Stormtroopers of the Ordo Tempestus present! We are actively trying not to explo-" And then his head explodes in a shower of gore that covered the other stormtroopers.

A Taurox then appeared and shouted out in TAUROX SPEAK which merely amounts to playing "La Cucaracha" with airhorns.

Kaldor Draigo then appeared out of nowhere with an army of himself. "ORDO DRAIGO PRESENT. WE WILL PROVIDE THE HAMS!"

"Okay, you are ALL useless pieces of shit that won't make it in here," Slade says in brutal honesty, "So let me and Russ explain to you why you are all useless and won't survive."

Russ laughs in agreement and goes to Grey Knights first, "You're the Inquisitorial equivalent of spoiled rich children who get everything handed to you on a silver platter and are more successful at killing innocents who catch a glimpse of you than the Daemons you are supposed to be fighting. Also, yer's accent's weird and full'a waffles."

"WHOT." Elirish said, making Russ' mock valid.

Taking his turn, Slade then makes his way to the Ordo Hereticus.

"You fuckers are the imperial equivalent of child molesters and probably are going to cause us more damage than the daemons ironically." Slade deadpanned, before directing his gaze towards Donklas, "And I am fairly sure some of you are actual child molesters."

The Masked Inquisitor snickered arousing, meaning that Slade's statement held some water.

Russ then turned to the Adeptus Soroitas and bluntly stated, "Daemons of Khorne are gonna eat ya out like ice cream sandwiches once your red rage begins."

A sound of glass shattering could be heard, the Sisters looked at Russ indignantly but they don't see most of the other Ordos and Inquisitors trying and failing to hold in their laughter.

"If it's any consolidation," Slade says, so they wouldn't go on some rampage that would attract Bloodthirsters, "Faith is a strong weapon."

Slade then turned to the Ordo Xenos and asked, "Anyone here who knows what a daemon is?"

"Do they steal genes?" Adrielle asked innocuously, causing other Inquistors both in and out of her Ordo to stare at her in disbelief.

"Yeeeer gonna die/You're gonna die." Slade and Russ said in unison while walking to the next group.

Then they got to the Deathwatch, where Russ started, "Well, first off, you're probably not used to the whole "killing things that aren't Tau or some other pansy species" thing. And second off..." He then began rather subdued as he stared at Calato, "You. Dark Angel."

As the other Deathwatch members backed away due to knowing what was about to happen, Calato huffed without a care, "Just stop breathing. I can smell the ammonia from here."

Russ then seemed become larger as he leaned in and the area around them seemed darker, making Calato instantly regret his words, "What in the wolf did you just howlin' say about me, you little milksop? I'll have ye know I was throned at the top of my tribe in the Kingdom of the Russ, and I've been involved in numerous executions of traitor Primarchs and I have over 300 million confirmed kills! I am trained in wolf warfare, and I am the top C. Q. C. Expert in the entire Imperium. Ye are NOTHIN' to me but just ANOTHER NANCY LIONLOVER BITCH."

Calato was rendered silent at that rant, his legs shaking under his armor, unable to respond. Russ merely scoffed and walked off to the last members of the group while Slade opened his maw of teeth and flicked his thumb off his front two. Another Deathwatch member looked at the still frozen Calato and said, "You kinda deserve that." An Ultramarine Apothecary, Wilford, nodded in agreement.

The Imperial Stormtroopers were next, and Russ immediately and brutally gave his thoughts on how he felt on them, "I feel that yer very presence is enough to show why ye really shouldn't be here."

One of the Stormtroopers nodded, "I agree." As if Tzeentch wanted to emphasis this, he then explodes randomly, showing the other Stormtroopers with more gore.

Wiping the gore off his face, Slade then turns to Fyodor, "The fact that you cannot even use your damn legs to walk tells me everything I need to know about you."

Fyodor's deadpan expression said all that he was thinking.

Russ nodded before announcing to all of the Inquisition, "Alrite, listen up. The lot of ye are not gonna survive a single sunrise in the Warp at this rate."

Fyodor blinked and asked, "There are suns... in the Warp?"

Draigo then suddenly appeared, floating above them and shining golden like a burning star, "I AM ONE!"

Bewildered at this, Fyodor looked to Slade and asked, "How is he doing that?"

"Warp Fuckery and insanity make a hell of a combination." Slade merely shrugged, not knowing how to respond to that and having given up trying to understand Draigo.

Russ shrugged at that too before continuing, "So, I, V and Slade are going to show ye the ropes, oil ye right up and forge yer sorry little excuses for soldiers into TRUE WARP SURVIVORS!"

---

*Whip crack*

WARP SURVIVAL 101 WITH LEMAN RUSS AND SLADE WILSON

The group then came to another area that resembled a nebulous region of space with a mirror-like crystalline landscape that reflected the sky. Leman and Slade then showed the Inquisition to a table with at least 100 tankards.

"Step one; All of you, grab a tankard and chug it!" Leman said while pointing to the table of tankards.

However, as they took in the sight of the tankards, a thick purple smoke began emitting from the innards as an aura of menace began irradiating that felt almost living and in agony.

Understandably unsettled, Fyoder and the other Inquisitors lean back feeling the aura, with Fyodor asking Russ in a clearly worried tone, "What are those beverages made of?"

"This is my attempt at making a drink that resembles to the good ole recipe of Fenrisian Ale!" Russ started, cheerfully, "So, Slade and I combined Bylestim, Tyrphous, and Serpentin with the fermented and distilled intestinal juices of a Keeper of Secrets, a Bloodthrister, and a Lord of Change!"

Fyodor just stares at the Primarch, before he found the words and asked, "Are you telling us to literally drink liquid Chaos?"

Leman yells out, "YES YA BLEEDIN' SOUPHEAD, DRINK THE WOLFIN' CHAOS!"

"DRINK IF YOU WANNA LIVE!" Dominique shouts as well before grabbing a tankard and chugging it down.

"Alright, everyone." Fyoder whispers to the other Inquisitors, as he hesitantly grabbed a tankard of Russ' 'special ale', "Put a cyanide bolt in your mags as a safety precaution..."

The others nodded as each of them slowly took a tankard from the table, staring at the contents. It was a bright pink and purple with golden fold around the rims, some swearing they saw faces in the liquid forming and unforming at random. Knowing that they had no choice, the group took a breath before they took their first drink.

XXX

It was only a few more minutes later, and the Inquisitors were already downing tankard after tankard and getting completely wasted on the ale. Slade chugged it down while keeping a straight face as he had begun building up a tolerance. V1 meanwhile just poured it all over himself and let his plates absorb the brew and filter it into his power cells.

Meanwhile...

"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!" Leman cheered on as several Inquisitors were chugging down their tankards.

Adrielle finished her tankard and uncouthly dropped it onto the ground, she then slurred out, clearly sloshed on Russ' ale, "Ooooh myyyyy..." She then promptly collapsed to the floor, others moving out of the way as she cooed out, "Broodlord-kuuuuun~...

Elirush meanwhile was so smashed on the ale that he could only roar out, "SSSSSÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅSSSS!" The other Grey Knight whooped in unison, clearly sloshed despite their Oolitic Kidneys.

An equally smashed Donklas hiccupped, drunkenly wobbling before he felt into the arms of his fellow Witch Hunters, who were quite smashed on the daemon innards ale as well, "WEH, Wheere did I get this mask from anywayyy?" The others shrugged, thinking that it must have been something else.

Canoness Albia Thorne of the Order of Our Martyred Lady threw her tankard away after finishing it while drunkenly pointing at another Sister of Battle, "You're the Heretic."

Said Sister was Canoness Amaryllis of the Order of the Sacred Rose who was equally as sloshed as Albia, drunkenly replying, "Naw Gurl. You're the Heretic."

Albia just laughed and wiggled a finger, "Nohohoo, you're the heretic."

"waAAaw..." Amaryllis seemed barely able to stand or stay awake, "What is the definishun of a heretic anyway?"

Albia didn't seem to hear her sentence as she repeats herself, "Noooooo! You're the heretic."

An insanely drunk Calato suddenly walked up to Russ, slurring all the way as he mumbled, "Look, I'm...I'm sorry—[Cough]—bwugh. Oooh, I'm...I'm sorry for what I said before, I...It was just the old Dank Angels/Sparse Dogs rivalaraly...I didn—uugh—BUGHR—I didn't uuh...mean it personally, ya know? You're still my, uh...You're still my uncle, right?"

Russ rolls his eyes but decided to roll with it as he reassuringly patted Calato on the pauldron, "I am still your uncle."

"Yeeah!" Calato whooped, "You're... You're still my... My homedog! My... my homeslice, my... uncle. My uh... my dog... My- MY DONCLE! My... lemon bread bush... Yeah... Also, by the way, fuck recaf." Calato collapsed onto his chest, still mumbling. Russ rolled his eyes with a smirk and patted the Dark Angel's pauldron.

Fyodor, seeing the others getting plastered by the brew and especially after seeing Dominic wearing his tankard like a hat, decided to take the dive. The old, deluded man took a deep breath to calm himself and exhaled before chugging down the brew. Almost after finishing it, he coughed violently at feeling the liquid kill all the bacteria in his throat, moaning as he laid back against his throne, "Oh... oooohhh... holy thrones on a... throne on a... throne... I feel... AMAZING."

Seeing that they were all liquored up, Leman and Slade nodded before the former yelled out, "ALRITEY MILKSOPS, GET READY! 'CAUSE WE'RE GOING OUT TO PAINT THIS OLD INEXISTENT PLANE RED!"

Fyodor, now smashed out of his mind, proceeded to yell out, "fffffffffFFFFFFFFUCK YES! LET'S DO THIS!"

"PURGE THE HERETICS!"

---

Realm of Brass and Blood

After raiding and trashing a Slaaneshi/Tzeentchian nightclub/casino, Russ and his drunkards snuck into the Realm of Brass and Blood, reaching a chasm that led to a massive temple-like structure.

"Alright..." Russ whispered so that they wouldn't get caught by Khorne's hordes, "Ring the bell and come right back here..."

Fyodor, still smashed on Russ' ale, asked in a genuinely confused manner, "How do I ring the bell?"

"I dunno, just wolfin smash it or something." Russ shrugged.

The Lord Inquisitor nodded and crept towards the door of the temple, knocking three times and then just out right smashing the side of his Throne of Judgement into the door before giggling like a schoolboy and running back to cover.

Suddenly, the doors splintered as a massive Bloodthirster with broken wings and an axe in each hand burst from the alter and screamed out for all to hear. It was Skarbrand the Exiled One.

"SKARBRAND HATES KNOCKING SOUNDS!" Skarbrand screamed out at the area around him, almost deafening other Khornates, "SKARBRAND ALSO HATES GOING OUTSIDE! ...AND GOING INSIDE! SKARBRAND SHALL STAY IN THE DOORFRAME. HE HATES IT SLIGHTLY LESS."

---

The Silver Palace

They then cut to another Slaaneshi nightclub, where a Daemonette was looking at Russ lasciviously while they were having drinks at the club. Russ smirks a knowing smirk and tells the others, "Check this out."

He walked up to the daemon and called, either not knowing or not caring that Calato was behind him, nuzzled against his fur cape, "Oi there, ya ruinous seabreeze."

"Ohhhh." The daemonette cooed at the sight of the beefy hunk of meat that was the Primarch, "Hi~."

"Ye got some really pristine claws right there."

The daemonette giggled, putting one claw to its lips and revealing its needle-like teeth, "Thank you, wolfboy~."

"See I've been looking for someone with some skill in... trimming'..." Russ made a gesture with his eyebrows that practically made the daemonette purr, "And I bet ya can do some real raunchy work with them clippers right there..."

The daemonette practically was like a lovestruck schoolgirl in an anime, "OH, BY THE PRINCE, IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING? :D"

"You could trim my hedges real good, if ya know what I'm saying." Leman winked at it.

"Ahh-hahahaho, yeeeeesss!" It squealed in delight, thinking of all the things that could be done, "Your ass is grass and I'm making you my lawn baby!" She purred while rubbing the chestplate of Russ' armor.

"Oooh, good!" Russ chuckled before leaning back and saying, "Kay, bye!" He and Calato jumped back, with the latter giving the Slaaneshi the finger, leaving her without her pleasures.

"Hey! NOO! BLUE-BALLED!" The daemonette screeched out as it was denied the pleasures before the area around it warped and it burst into Warp dust while the other inhabitants of the club laughed at its demise.

"YEHEHAAH!" Fyodor whooped with a round of applause, "I give that 15 out of 10...virus...bombings..."

Elirush screamed out, "SSSSSÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅÅSSSS!"

"Ohhhhh~" Another daemonette slithered to Slade's side, who happened to see see the whole thing, "Doesn't that just make the blood pump, mh~?"

Suddenly, Slade's fist imbedded itself in its chest before ripping out the Daemon's heart. The daemonette choked and gurgled on its own blood, but had wide eyes and a laugh of utter rapture escaped her throat before it fell to the floor.

Slade then held the still beating heart over his head before crushing it and letting all the blood collect in his mouth, then gulping it down.

---

The Crystal Labrinth

In the Labyrinth of Tzeentch, after fighting through another wave of daemons, they arrived at Kairos Fateweaver's chambers with Adrielle taking the lead to ask the Lord of Change anything.

"I am Kairos, Vizier of Tzeench. Ask me anything, but beware. One of my heads tells the truth, and the other lies." The two headed Lord of Change said while sitting in a cross-legged position, the Tome of Destiny fluttering rapidly.

"Are you a Genestealer?" Adrielle slurred, still hammered on Russ' ale.

Seemingly caught off guard at that question, Kairos merely frowned and replied curtly, "No." However, the other head gave the opposite answer with an equally curt tone, "Yes."

The other Inquisitors frozen, even while drunk as they knew how Quist would react to that.

"I KNEW IT!" Quist cried out before launching at Kairos and latching onto one of his head before attacking with extreme prejudice while the Vizier screeched and flailed around erratically.

"AHHH! NO! NOT THE FACE!" Kairos screeched, clawing at the head she was attacking in a desperate attempt to get her off.

"What exactly is her deal with Genestealers?" Slade asked Donklas, who could only shrug, too smashed on the ale to care.

---

The Garden of Nurgle

In the Garden of Nurgle, Epidemis hummed as he continued to do his job as Tallyman of Nurgle, cataloging the next hundred diseases that the Plaguefather created today.

"Excuse me?"

Epidemis blinked his single crust covered eye before turning to see Calato standing before him, trying to keep his stance steady as he was still sloshed on the ale, with a parchment rolled into a scroll and bound with a string in his hand.

"Ah, hello! How can I help you?" Epidemis jovially asked to the Astartes, unaware that the latter was barely able to stand.

The Deathwatch member merely showed the parchment Slade gave to him, and asked, "Do you know the name of this daemon?"

He gave Epidemis the parchment before rushing back to the others behind their cover as they motion frantically before covering their ears. Confused, the Tallyman of Nurgle undid the string and unfurled the parchment, taking in its contents with his singe eye, before blinking in disbelief.

"What?" The Tallyman of Nurgle blurted in confusion, "This just says Aetaos'rau'keres."

Suddenly, a flash of shimmering silver appeared and before him was Aetos'rau'keres, the Slayer of Souls who roared with a fury equal to or beyond that of a Bloodthirster.

Epidemis, with his single eye wide, only muttered, "Oh, dear."

Aetos then proceeded to blast Epidemis out of his chair and then unleashed swaths of warpfire onto the Garden of Nurgle as several Nurglites charged headlong at the Lord of Change to protect their land.

"YES, looks like you aren't so useless after all." Slade commented with a smirk under his mask as they all watched the carnage.

"I am starting to see this charm of reading and spreading things instead of burning them." Fyodor amusingly admitted, the others laughing hysterically especially as a Great Unclean One clashed with the Lord of Change.

"That's the spirit! Now on to our next target..."

---

Random Daemon Village

In a daemon village, Mayor Brimstone, a Fury with a black top hat as a sign of respect for the Dark Master, worked on some paperwork on his furbished desk before another fury entered his office.

"Sir Mayor, sir!" The assistant hastily told the mayor, "It seems several thousand villages have been pillaged by vile materials! And they're coming for us next! What should we do?!"

The mayor frowned as the information but answered, "This is a very dire situation for our people. But by the Gods, we shall persevere! Tell everyone to pack it up, for we must journey to-"

Before he could finish, his laptop began ringing.

"My, who could that be?" Brimstone questioned before hitting 'reply', "Mmhello, this is Mayor Brimstone."

A voice on the other side answered, "HELLO. I AM LORD INQUISITOR FYODOR-" The voice then stopped as if someone was feeding him a script and then telling him he was reading it wrong, "No. No, no. Nononononononono. I mean, I am a concerned citizen. I just wanted to ask: is your refrigerator running?"

The mayor raised an eyebrow on his gargoyle-like face, "Yes."

"WELL THEN YOU BETTER GO CATCH IT YOU FUCKING FUCKFACE!"

Brimstone frowned at that insult but before he could reply, his assistant caught his attention as he stared out the window.

"Um, Mayor Brimstone?"

"Yes?"

The assistant merely pointed to the window where he then saw several thousand projectiles flying their way.

Brimstone, shocked but keeping his composure, merely uttered, "Oh, dear." The office was then bombed by a metric fuckload of explosives that destroyed both the mayor and his assistant, leaving only the desk and scorched laptop intact.

Outside the office, Fyodor proceeded to let out the most inquisitorelest laugh that ever was at the sight of the ruined office before he began to peter out what with both Slade and V1 sitting on the left shoulder of the Throne of Judgement.

"You're adapting well and good ye are!" Russ complemented the Inquisitors, "Survival rates have increased by at least two wolves!" He then turned to his side, "Also, that lass has taken to me ale well." Everyone turned to see Adrielle, wobbling on the left shoulder of the Throne of Judgement due to how much she imbibed.

"Genestealers..." Adrielle mumbled and slurred before downing another tankard of ale, now ultra-smashed on the drink before she belched uncouthly and fell into V1's lap.

"I think you've had too much." Slade deadpanned while V1 merely petted her on the head.

"THIS IS THE (second to) BESY DAY EVER!" Fyodor let out a loud and bellowing laugh before he relaxed on his throne, where V1 then patted him on his bald head.

---

A while later, Russ and the Inquisitorial drunkards managed to ransack another daemon village, using it to set up shop before they went on their next drunken rampage at the hordes of Chaos. Thankfully, this part of the Warp seemed rather calm and composed, meaning that they had nothing to worry about for now, the housing seemingly made of wood with all kinds of traps laid out in case any daemon got too close. V1 and Slade have been teaching the others how to survive the Warp other than just getting smashed on daemon innards.

In the meantime, Russ was currently preparing another patch of ale for the next time they decide to go out into the Warp to pillage more daemon villages.

Meanwhile, Fyodor walked to Russ on his Throne of Judgement, the latter throwing the corpse of a Horror onto a wooden table and chopping it into pieces for a later meal, "I certainly, uh, appreciate your help in escorting us through this trippy hellscape. It's been a wiiiiiild couple of days..."

"Gotta salvage whatever I can find in this realm." Russ shrugs, continuing to chop before he wraps the meat in paper, "Yer the first sentient creatures I've come across that aren't made of tentacles and crab claws."

Fyodor raised an eyebrow, "But what about Kaldor Draigo?"

Leman let out a snicker and asked, "Would ya really call him 'sentient'?"

Draigo suddenly popped to Fyodor's right and yelled out, "NOOOOOO!"

Fyodor, after nearly jumping out of his skin from the sudden shout, regained his nerve and replied, "I, uh... I agree with Draigo."

"Ah, well." Leman said as he placed the wrapped-up daemon meat on the table, "I'm gonna head off with cokebeard over here-" Draigo suddenly appeared at Leman's side and yelled out, "I'M A PIRATE." "-and pillage another daemon village nearby."

"There are more of them?" Fyodor said in surprise, knowing that they had pillaged at least a few thousand of them, "But we've annihilated at least..." He tried to think but it was rather now rather hard when you were utterly smashed while doing so, "I dunno, how many shots did I take last night?"

"There are still a few more in dire need of extermination." Leman said, brandishing his sword, Balenight.

Fyodor's other hand began flapping in and out of control which he tried to control, "My Exterminatus hand is acting out again!"

"We're going now." Leman said as Fyodor got control of his hand, "Stay here if ya don't wanna sit in the splash zone of the exploding Nurglites show."

"WAIT!" Fyodor halted them before they could do so, "We can fight too!"

The Primarch stared for a second before he wheezed, laughing out before going, "No-ho-ho-ho-ho... No-ho-ho, not while sober yer not, you'd all explode!"

"What?" Fyodor blinked, genuinely surprised, "Explode? What? Isn't that a guardsman-only thing."

Russ decided to explain to Fyodor what he meant by that, "Ya see; here in the Warp, it's all about yer willpower. If ye believe ye'll survive, if ye believe in yer strengths, if ye believe all these massive spine-snapping bloodgoats cannot kill ye, the Warp is all yours. And that's what the ale is for! But all undrunk as ye are now, you and yer troops are all balancing on the brink of splattering all across me armour. So, in short; stay put, shut yer face, and wait 'til I can booze ye up some more."

"Oh, come now, do not doubt us!" The Lord Inquisitor said, not deterred in the slightest.

"Little too late for that."

"I have attended many sober fights in the past!"

"Like pillow-fights?"

"Carried out countless planetary cleansings!"

"I betcha cleanse floors better than ya swing a sword."

"I have a kill-count of over a billion (potential) witches and heretics!"

"Ya know, goatbeard, there's a difference between using yer instincts, and killing by smashing some button with yer forehead." Leman deadpanned, "But that's not something I expect yer sort to know. We're going now."

Fyodor however proved too stubborn as he continued, "It is well within my genetic structure to act accordingly to my instincts!"

"Alright, stop yer jabbering."

"What with my saintly origins, me being banished to this realm was the very result of my glorious instincts to begin with!"

"That's incredibly pathetic." Leman rolled his eyes before beginning to walk off, "I'm going now."

"As I am sure yours do, my godly genes provide me with... premonition."

That caught Leman's attention as he turned to Fyodor with a surprised expression, "What did ye just howlin' say to me?"

"But this is no surprise, seeing as your genes and mine are directly linked... my son."

Leman's expression suddenly became unnervingly calm, icy calm like the silent storms of Fenris, quiet as the night itself before he calmly requested, "Please tell me I misheard. 'Cause I just thought I heard YOU, a dobber with the face of a scalped bellwether, whom is probably 13,000 moons younger than me, just call me 'son.'"

"No." Fyodor earnestly shook his head, sincerely believing the lie he was fed, "I did indeed, wolven son of mine."

Leman remained calm before bluntly saying, "I'm gonna punch yer face off for that."

"Don't do that." Karamazov asked, realizing he had made the Primarch mad.

Leman had his fist raised, "Already doing it."

"No."

"Yes."

"No dO NOT-"

It was too late as Leman's fist came at him like a comet, flaming actually trailing from behind.

(BAM)

---

Holy Terra

The Throne Room

Unknown to anyone, Fyodor's scream echoed through the Warp, letting be heard on Terra. Specifically, the Throne room of the Imperial Palace, where the Emperor would have jumped at the scream if he had any nerves left in his husk-like form at the sound.

The Emperor typed out on his Text to Speech device with the dust motes around him, "WHAT WAS THAT NOISE?"

Rogal, still in his centurion armor, responded in his usual blunt tone, "It was the miserable scream of an old man being punched in the face, father."

---

The Warp

Meanwhile, as the Deathwatch helped set up a defensive perimeter around the village they had settled in, Fyodor finally awoke from his Russ-induced coma.

"ohhhhh..." Fyodor moaned as he came back to consciousness after Russ' punch knocked him out cold, now in terrible pain and with a dislocated jaw, "So, this is what an Exterminatus feels like." He quickly reset his jaw, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times to test his jaw before he realized something.

"Hey, Dominique!" The Lord Inquisitor turned to his servitor scribe, who still had the tankard over his head, "Why didn't you wake me up?!"

However, the scribe didn't react even at Fyodor's demand. Fyodor blinked and nudged the scribe who was still and cold, before he grasped the tankard and lifted it up to reveal Dominique's dead hanging face, soaked in Russ' ale and with a drunken smile. Loose and blackened lips, yellowed teeth, and blue skin revealed he had been dead for a while now.

"Oh, you're dead. Good." Fyodor shrugged, finally rid of the annoying scribe, before he then realized, "Wait! Where did Russ go?!"

XXX

Meanwhile, in a nearby Nurglite village, a Plaguebearer put on a fedora and carried a suitcase out of his house before he turned to his family, seeing them still in the door frame.

"Farewell beloved familyth!"

"Farewell sweetpus!" His wife said sweetly in her deep and phlegm ridden voice, "Have a good day in the nurgling mine."

"Well, those nurglings won't shit on themselves! Bye-bye, I love you!" The plaguebearer said sweetly back before the two kissed in a way that would make any non-nurglites gag.

Unknown to them, Russ and Draigo, along with Slade and several others emerged behind some grates, "How do ye wanna go 'bout takin down these abominable nether-creatures?"

Draigo said, surprisingly lucid, at least for his standards, "I SAYETH WE THROW OUR VORTEX GRENADES AT THEM."

Leman Russ stared before he said, "But vortex grenades open up rifts to the Warp, don't they? I mean... we're already in the Warp."

Draigo paused before yelling out, "WE SHALL SEND THEM... TO THE SUPER WARP!"

"Mighty fine!" Leman laughed out, "Ye got any slingshots with ye? I wanna see how many daemons a nade can rip through before it goes off."

The others rolled their eyes, when suddenly, Fyodor erupted from underneath them before they could attack, yelling out, "RUSS! Finally, I found you!"

"WOLFIN' DAMNIT! YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO WAKE UP!"

However, in doing so, they both had blown their cover and the village became aware of them as their shouting attracted the attention of the entire village.

"BY MY CIST-COVERED NIPPLES! IT BE MATERIALS! TOLL THE TOWN BELL! TOLL THE TOWN BEELL!" A Daemon Prince of Nurgle screamed out as the others quickly fled the scene, ruining the element of surprise.

"How did Fyodor alert them when Draigo didn't?!" Donklas asked out loud before he realized the extent of what was happening, "Oh, shit." Donklas exclaimed before yelling out, "V! TAKE THEM DOWN!"

Suddenly, V1 immediately appeared and whipped out his massive machine guns at the Nurglites, whom all stopped and stared in shock before the droid pulled the triggers. A veritable storm of bullets erupted from the multiple barrels, ripping through them despite their durability. Split in half, bifurcated, blown limb from limb, or completely reduced to mush. The drone didn't stop before going in hot, throwing grenades and high explosives that ignited the methane around the village, erupting in swaths of unholy fire.

Several Beasts of Nurgle charged headlong, mouths wide before they were reduced to grime strains by the blasts of warp power from his guns. A herald of Nurgle leapt toward the droid, only for the latter to produce a can of Febreze and spraying it all over the things' face, causing it to screech out in agony.

"AAHH! MY FACE! MY LEPROSY RIDDEN FACE!" The herald cried out before its head was blown off from V's charge shot.

The others quickly got behind whatever cover they could find as the filth and body parts started flying, heat scouring and burning off all the diseases around them, the dead blazing away as the Iron Vanquisher continued firing upon them. By the time he was done, the barrels of V1's guns were glowing organ from the heat eradiating from them. And whatever was left of the daemon village was little more than a blast hellscape, vast plains of fire almost like an inferno that spanned ever upwards.

The others, upon hearing the destruction stop, slowly emerged from their cover to see the destruction reaped by the Iron Vanquisher, standing still as burning remains came falling down, splattering like rotten meat or fruit.

Fyodor was silent as he stared numbly at the destruction that the machine before meekly muttering out, "My... he seems to love his job."

"V's nothing if not reliable." Slade shrugged, as V1 gave a mock salute.

"Alrite ye thundering knobhead." Leman growled, pointing his sword at the inquisitor's face, "Explain yerself before I launch you to the other side of the Warp with my iron fuckin feet!"

Fyodor calmly put up his hands, trying to placate the Primarch, "You did not allow me to explain before you pummeled my fair visage."

"You had better explain quickly. I left my patience for hogshit back in the materium." Leman growled again, putting the tip of Mjalnar to Fyodor's throat.

The Lord Inquisitor kept his composure as he gently lowered the tip of Mjalnar from his jugular, "Look. You really ARE my son, Leman."

A growl escaped the Wolf King's throat, "Yer making me cringe to my CORE."

"I-I know it be hard to comprehend, but..." Fyodor tried to find the words, "This is the first time we have m-met each other in over... ten thousand years?" He then shook his head again and decided to roll with it, "And I want us to be on good terms again."

"Oh, by Fenris, what the fuck are ye talking about?"

"You see, Leman..." Fyodor decided to break it now rather than later, "I have lived through most of my mortal life as Fyodor Karamazov. But I am just that much more. As was revealed to me before my unjust banishment to this realm... I am the Emperor. Your father."

However, Russ proceeded to laugh hysterically, still disbelieving the lord Inquisitor of his claims.

"Stop that!" Fyodor exclaimed, annoyed at Russ' refusal to take this seriously, "I'm serious!"

Suddenly, however, the Warp around Russ darkened as he stomped, silencing Fyodor as Leman glared with cold fury in his eyes that made the Inquisitor fearful. Ice and snow formed around him, freezing the Nurglite village and

"Arite. I'll be serious." "Ye dare disrespect my father in such a manner? He carried the might and manlieness of a thousand musclebound jarls. He was noble, just, and his very being radiated immeasurable power and charisma! When you were in his presence, you KNEW who he was! And I can assure you, you are NO father of mine, MILKSOP!"

"That is where you are WRONG!" Fyodor yelled back, standing his ground which seemed to get the barest of Leman's fury to simmer, "This revelation was granted to me NOT as a whisper from the dark, NOT through a fallacious herald, NOR through copious amounts of brain aneurysms!"

That at least made Leman raise an eyebrow, neither noticing V1, Slade, Draigo, and the other Inquisitors listening in with interest.

"During my time in the materium, I spearheaded an invasion as a highly heretical decree had been spread across the galaxy." Fyodor began, the Warp around them seemingly shaping to his emotions and zeal, "This decree was sent from Holy Terra itself, so we made haste to find its origin, to liberate our most precious planetary cradle from this traitorous influence... And we found it."

Leman's visage was still directed at Fyodor, which at least gave the impression that he was paying attention, so the latter continued.

"Inside the Imperial Palace, in the Emperor's own throne room, the filth that had composed this blasphemous decree was located." Fyodor continued on, "This being, no, this creature, was as powerful as he was cunning. Both the Ecclesiarchy and the Emperor's personal guard, the Custodians, had wavered to the ruinous powers, as they had all come to kneel before a crimson daemon with a single. Hateful. Eye." The lord inquisitor than put a hand over his left eye for emphasis.

That description certainly grabbed Leman's attention, his head snapping at Fyodor with a gaping mouth and wide eyes as he seemed to be trying to catch his breath from the shock, "Wha- What?! A crimson daemon? With a single eye?!"

"Indeed." Fyodor confirmed, continuing despite Russ' shock, "We entered the Throne Room in hopes to save our Emperor. But this horrid daemon banished us to this realm before we could do so much as lay a finger on it. But before this happened, the Emperor himself revealed unto me the truth of my very existence. A fragment of his psyche, lost in the void of time, impregnated my progenitress, soon giving birth... to me."

Russ' shocked visage remained, likely not from Fyodor's delusions but he continued regardless, "I may have lived as Fyodor Karamazov for most of my life, a great man in his own right, and loyal servant to his Emperor. But now, I know that I am more than a mere man. My destiny is to escape this realm, reunite with my throne-bound self, and bring humanity into a glorious new age!" He then turned to Russ, who was now silent, staring at the ground in contemplation, "...and I want you, my son, to add me in this endeavour."

Leman remained silent before his head slowly rose to meet the gaze of Fyodor, the warp darkening around them from his fury, "Tell me, Inquisitor. Were ye truly... TRULY, within the Imperial Palace? Did ye really see this red daemon cyclops?!"

"I did indeed see it." Fyodor said, surprisingly composed despite being in proximity to the black raging storm that was Russ' anger, "I swear it on my honour. ...And my extremely warranted self-importance."

V1, Slade, Draigo and the others wisely stepped back as the Warp around Russ blackened and shimmered with cold fury, his heavy breathing so cold that fractals of ice formed in the air, growling out like a wolf challenging another wolf, "MMMMMMAAAAAAAAGGGGGNUUSSSSS..."

Nothing mattered anymore. Not his survival, not his pride, not even the daemons he had sworn to slay, all that mattered was what he started 10,000 years ago.

"It is good that you realize the seriousness of this situation." Fyodor said somehow still composed, with some gawking with incredulousness at how he was still calm despite the Primarch's rage, "Now son, you may apologize for your earlier transgressions. I shall graciously accept and give you a fatherly pat upon your fluffy head!"

Now everyone gawked at Fyodor, except for Slade who gave a look of deadpan silence and V1 who had no expressions to give.

"We must go to Terra. NOW!" Russ proclaimed in tranquil fury, his grip on his Mjalgar almost crushing the handle.

"...We can do that too if you want." Fyodor shrugged, still somehow calm and collected, "But how? Are there any ways out of this realm? You've been stuck here for centuries."

"There is ONE route..." Russ proclaimed, gaining their undivided attention, "A dangerous one. But WE SHALL TAKE IT!" He then raised his sword to high heaven for all the Inquisition to see, "WE ARE MARCHING... TO THE GATE OF KHAINE!"

All was silent before Draigo suddenly shouted at the top of his lungs, "ROAD TRIP, YEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

---

After that hold debacle was settled, Russ then rallied the others to the path to the Gate of Khaine. But not before they downed the rest of his ale and rampaged their way to the Gate.

Soon, Fyodor and the Inquisition settled down and built a campfire around another crevasse in the pliable earth, where they would rest until they regained enough strength to march on. Thankfully, according to their psyker division, they were nearly halfway to the Gate of Khaine. Even more thankfully, this area was dark enough that they could sleep here to regain their strength.

However, they had to take preparations if they wanted to stay for the night.

"CARVE, BROTHERS! CARVE! CARVE IF YOU WANT TO LIVE!" Elirush screamed out as he and the Grey Knights started carving anti-daemonic wards into the ground in the area around them so that no daemons that happened to be nearby would attack them.

One of the Grey Knights came up to Fyodor who was supervising and saluted, "We're halfway done, my lord! We should be finished within the hour."

"Good! Continue carving!" Fyodor confirmed as the Grey Knight quickly ran toward the circle of wards, carving wards along with the other Knights.

The Lord Inquisitor turned his head, seeing the dark violet sky as they hid in a massive chasm that spanned higher than skyscrapers. Due to the Warp's everchanging nature, but thankfully the shadows were dark enough that they would be hidden from any light in the Warp.

Fyodor looked back at Dominique's body that still somehow possessed that same drunken smile on his rotting face. An uncomfortable feeling came to Fyodor as he turned away but then couldn't help but to look again, before a sigh escaped him and he placed a hand over his face, unable to believe he is feeling this way about someone that had been driving him insane after all these years.

Raising a hand, he gently closed Dominique's eyes and mouth, making it seem like he was smiling peacefully asleep instead of being dead. A solemn look came to his face as he stared at the corpse of his servitor scribe, still wondering why he felt this way.

"Your duty is done, Dominique." Fyodor whispered, "Get some rest."

"TELL US ANOTHER! TELL US ANOTHER!" Fyodor turned to hear several yells out as the Inquisitors gathered around a fire like children with Slade acting as a storyteller.

"All right, I got one more." Slade chuckled, before he cleared his throat and spoke again, "The Warp was always a churning ethereal ocean of madness and depravity, ever since the end of the War In Heaven. However, one place in the Warp was darker than the rest: The Abyss. A place where the darkest of souls go to roil and rot away, roiling in their own thoughts. As the Maw opened, the Abyss was filled with the darkest souls in the multiverse. Soon though, the Abyss grew fangs, and the Void began to breath, birthing things that slithered in the dark, growing into beasts that never were and minds so dark that they never could conceive compassion."

The others listened intently as he told his story, "Soon, the things in the Abyss were found by the Dark Master and the Daemon Queen, including the Nergalings and the Formless, even the things beyond were used as creatures for torment and entertainment. Soon, the black ocean in the Abyss is a valuable mineral in of itself. The dark forces under the Daemon Queen use the liquid as means of sorcery and creation."

"However." Slade then raised a clawed finger, "The Dark Master formed an idea. He collected a large sample of the black abyssal fluid and turned to the Black Dragon, asking it to forge a blade so terrible that even the purest things would be corrupted by its touch. The Dragon laughed, taking the request as a challenge and forged the blade, with the Dark Master naming it; All-Black."

Suddenly, as if invoking its name was enough to shudder the Warp, the area around them darkened, causing the others to jump and for the Grey Knights to conjure purifying flames to keep whatever daemons that might be coming.

"The sword was so terrible, so unbelievably corrupting that the Dark Master was tricked by his jealous brother into throwing it into the Abyss, never to be seen again and never for light to touch it." Slade said, collecting flammable dust and letting it fall into the fire that grew in size, "Millions of Chaos Lords and Warbands have ventured into the Abyss, hoping to claim the dark sword and blasphemous power. None have returned. Perhaps they found the sword but were to weak willed to wield it. Perhaps they were hunted and devoured by the dark things that slept in the wastes. Perhaps even, they became lost to the dark tides that dwelled within. If one nears the abyss and listens in, they may yet hear the screams of the millions that yet wander the depth of the dark."

"Oooohhh..." The others all said in wonder.

"Alright, that's enough for tonight, now's the time to rest up. We've got a long day tomorrow." Slade said as he got up from the fire and walked over to a spot, "Once the Grey Knights are finished with their wards, we're gonna sleep. V1 will take the watch in case the wards fail in some way. When we wake up, we will march directly to the Gate of Khaine before any daemons catch wind of us traveling there. And remember to take the dream suppressants Russ and I cooked up so that we don't even up attracting any daemon with our dreams."

The others nodded, readying their spots for sleep while taking a cobalt blue pill so that their dreams don't attract any daemons.

Donklas settled down by the other Ordo Hereticus inquisitors, before he stopped at seeing Adrielle chugging a bottle of amasec to down her dream suppressants. She was drinking excessively ever since they had their first tastes of Russ' ale, to where it seemed like there wasn't a day where she wasn't wasted. The others in Ordo Xenos were starting to think that she may need to be sent to rehab if they make it out of the Warp. The Stormtroopers and the Taurox were placed in positions where they could be quick to mobilize in case anything went wrong.

The Grey Knights alongside the Deathwatch were already asleep, snoring up a storm while the Sisters of Battle were laid beside them, asleep. Fyodor was sleep already, mumbling as he slumped against the back of his throne, "Exterminatus..."

Slade hadn't gone to sleep yet, watching a daemon pass by completely unaware of them. Leman came up beside him as the two watched the wild predators of the Warp pass by silently, some swimming in whatever the Warp had in equivalent to air and others walking liquescently as their flesh seemed tumorous and gelid, floating and reforming.

"It's oddly beautiful huh?" Slade asked Russ without looking at him, admitting that the Warp had an odd sense of whimsy when it came to the things that crawls in its depths.

"Aye, in a sense." Leman replied, letting out a chuckle, "I remember when I first met you. Ye were hidin' in that wolfin cave, those black hooved feet of yer's." Slade rose an eyebrow and looked down as his hoof-like pads he had for feet before Russ laughed again, "Remember when we stole that wolfin' battle barge and used it as a wee battering ram?"

Slade chuckled, "Or the time a Great Unclean One swallowed us whole and we had to use your ale to get it inebriated?"

"Or the time you learned alchemy?" The Wolf King jabbed good spiritly.

And Slade gave a smirk with his eye, "Or the time we killed that Bloodthirster made ale out its liver juices? Or that time we were in Alagadda and you made the Red Lord laugh until he passed out after getting smashed on his wine?"

Leman laughed, rubbing Slade's head, "Ye're alrite, Sladey."

Slade was silent before he remembered something, "Oh, right. Forget to give you something." Before Russ could ask what it was, the cloaked wanderer took Russ' hand and placed his left hand over the back of the Primarch's hand. A swirl formed and unformed before he pulled his hand away, revealing the snarling wolf mark.

Suddenly, Freki and Geri manifested in front of their foster brother, their tails wagging in nostalgia.

For the longest time, Russ stared at the two wolves with an open mouth before his breaths became a laugh.

"FREKI! GERI!"

The two Fenrisian wolves practically tackled Russ to the ground as they started licking his face, the Wolf King laughing all the way.

And so Freki the Swift and Geri the Cunning were reunited with the Wolf King.

Slade smiled as slowly crept away, letting the two have their moment.

---

"What it means to be human."

"The abstraction which outlines each psyche that constitutes mankind's existence. The aggregate of sentiments that we carry for ourselves and for others. An aspect of our being that I found obsolete in a time where progress was key."

"Truly, compassion is anathema to progress. A weakness I could not afford to carry at such a crucial time. In recognizing this, I cast mine aside to focus all my being on crafting mankind's future."

"My work to be hindered by personal attachments no more. In that time, it was their only choice. But now, in an age of the ruthless, the hateful, the prejudiced, I need it returned to me."

"I mean to be human once more."

---

The sky was a majestic painting of orange, red, pink, purple, and violet, a landscape of jutting bone spikes and rock formations that spanned for hundreds of miles, silent as a grave before it was broken by the sound of a knight jumping up and down at absurd heights. Kaldor Draigo was laughing and laughing, as he cartwheeled and somersaulted in midair, "I LOVE JUMPING!"

Meanwhile, Leman Russ was leading the Inquisition to the Gate of Khaine with Freki and Geri beside him, Fyodor trailing behind, Slade and V1 just behind him and everyone else behind them.

"Move yer ass, rat-beard!" Russ yelled out as they marched one "We're marching, not hobbling! Grease them gears, I want to see yer stubby little wheels TEARIN' UP THIS HELL ROAD!"

"Le-L-Leman. LEMAN!" Fyodor shouted out as he had his Thorne of Judgement leap near the Wolf King, "My Throne is greased to perfection. Please stop yelling!"

"No!" The primarch yelled out, not looking at the Lord Inquisitor.

Fydor let out an inquisitorial sigh of parental frustration before asking after looking around the area that they found themselves in, "So, uh... where is this 'Gate of Khorne'? I have yet to spot it."

"Gate of Khaine." Russ corrected, still not looking at Fyodor.

"Ah, this is the Fenrisian pronunciation of 'Khorne'?" Fyodor asked, due to not knowing about the Eldar God of War.

"Not Khorne, Khaine!" Russ corrected again, starting to get annoyed.

"I know only of Khorne." Fyodor explained, "Who is this 'Khaine' You speak of?"

Russ let out a growl of annoyance before speaking, "A god of war and murder."

Fyodor stared for a second, "That's Khorne though."

Russ looked more annoyed than ever before Slade admitted, "I mean, he has a point."

"No, the Eldar god of war and murder." Russ explained to Fyodor, "There are subtle tellin' differences between 'em."

The inquisitorial cheek-shaking from Fyodor made it clear that he wasn't convinced, "DIFFERENCES?! A heretical war god is a heretical war god is a heretical war god! What difference could there possibly be?"

"Why did he say that trice?" Donklas asked V1 who shrugged.

"Well for one," Leman explained to Fyodor, "Khorne's domain is generally filled with blood, skulls, bloody skulls, an' enough cheap brass to forge three sectors worth of faulty trombones."

Fyodor had a raised eyebrow, "And, uh... Khaine's?"

Leman hesitated, trying to think of the differences between Khorne and Khaine, "Should be much a' the same, exceeeept..." He trailed off trying to think of differences again, but none of the ones he thought of helped his case.

Fyodor noticed Russ trailing off and asking out, "Except what?"

"Stop spewing bollocks questions!" Leman dodged the subject entirely much to Fyodor's annoyance as he stopped, "We've arrived."

The army stopped, taking in the sight of the Gate of Khaine. It was a massive structure that dwarfed an Imperator class titan, the frame black as onyx and covered in thousands of spikes, the actual door was disc-like and covered in a variety of Eldar runes and markings with the center possessing the rune of Kael Mensha Khaine, the Bloody Handed, the Eldar god of wrath, war, destruction, and murder.

While the others looked up in awe, Fyodor had a confused look as his Ordo was not focused on Eldar mythology or lore, "So, uh... Is this it? Or it is just another generic Chaos gate?"

"No, this is the one!" Leman confirmed, "Ye can tell by the amount of spike per square n' such, the radio is all shewed. Square-Spike Law and all that. And, you know, what with it being coated in fancy Eldar chicken-scratch."

"Then... this is our ticket out?!" Fyodor said rather eagerly, thinking that he can finally escape the Warp.

"Yes, but uh... Hm." Leman made an observation that bepuzzled him greatly, "Odd. Last I was here, a huge daemon army was standing about tryin' to smash the gate in... 'Twas large enough to take on an entire sector! But, ya know, come to think of it, good thing it wasn't here! Really, I was expecting all yer men t' be swallowed up in the meat grinder while yer psykers popped like balloons tryin' ta get the Gate open."

"Ah, so it is!" Fyodor exclaimed with vigor, seemingly deliberately ignoring the fact that Russ expected them to die before he marched in front of Leman, "Psyker division!" Suddenly, every single Sanctioned Psyker, Liberarian, and regular Psyker from the army came behind Fyodor, "Formation!" The psykers got into formation as Fyodor lead them to the front steps of the Gate.

"Imperial Inquisition! Tear down this Gate!" Fyodor roared out. The psykers then concentrated all their power into one single beam of light, an aura of whiteness forming around them as they unleashed the full might onto the Gate of Khaine, nearly blinding the others from the sheer intensity of its power. Fyodor was at the front lines, concentrating to his best on the Gate.

However, Leman Russ then proceeded to go up to the Psyker line to confront on thing that bothered him.

"Fyodor... uhhm, a moment." Russ asked the Lord Inquisitor who was still focused on the Gate, "Why are you.. out here?"

"What do you mean?" Fyodor said, still concentrating on the Gate, "I'm leading my troops into GLORIOUS FREEDOM FROM THE WARP!"

"No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no." Leman shook his head, correcting himself as he contained the urge to smack Fyodor's head off, "I mean, in more polite terms, what's yer GETHER-UPIN' ARSE doing on the Psyker line?!"

"Is it now obvious?" The now fully deluded Fyodor said as he concentrated even harder, "I'm using my HIGHLY POTENT ALPHA PLUS PSYKER POWERS to aid my acolytes!"

Leman and the others started incredulously at the Lord Inquisitor.

"Yep. He's finally lost it." Donklas deadpanned as they all stared at Fyodor trying to invoke powers he did not possess onto the Gate of Khaine.

Russ finally managed to speak before saying, "I hate to break this to you lad, but yer not a psyker!"

"Nonsense! I! AM!" Fyodor then proceeded to inhale deeply before bellowing out, "THE EMPEROR!" Ignoring a snarl from Russ, he continued, "USING MY POWERFUL POWERS, I WILL KILL THIS GATE!" The deluded Inquisitor roared out in all his might as he tried to focus powers he didn't possess into the Gate of Khaine.

"Do-aaahh..." Leman just sighed, not having the energy to deal with this, "Well, uh. A bit too sober to argue with ya'. So you go do that." With that, Leman walked back to the others, accompanied by two Space Wolves, a techmarine and a Wolf Priest, and Freki and Geri.

However, fortune was not in their favor as Tempestor Cromwell lead his squad of Tempestus Scions confronted the Primarch, with Cromwell personally starting as they bowed to the Wolf King, "M'lord Russ! Permission to speak, sire!"

"Aye, what do ye need, beardless one?" Leman granted it, seemingly tired of Fyodor's delusions, "Fyodor pop a gasket?"

"Grave news from the rear, sire." Cromwell reported as he turned to one of his scions, "Scion Stuart. Tell them what you saw."

A shaken Scion Stuart proceeded with his report, "I'd like to report the presence of a GIANT FUCK-OFF DAEMON ARMY MARCHING ON OUR LOCATION, SIR!"

That shout caused everyone to reel back in horror but that merely caused Cromwell to smack him across the face. Not for shouting but for cursing as the Tempestor prided himself on manners. As Stuart reeled from that, Cromwell berated his subordinate, "Scion Stuart! Language!"

"Pardon me, Tempestor!" Scion Stuart apologized before getting to the really bad news, "But it does get even worse. This humongous Daemon Army..." The Scion seemed close to hyperventilating from terror, "IT'S BEING LED BY-" A stomp of a massive hooved foot cut Stuart off as they all turned in horror to see the ones leading the charge.

First was Skarbrand, wielding both Slaughter and Carnage in both hands as they thirsted for blood, his broken wings on display as he roared out in blind rage while his fellow daemons of Khorne rampaged toward the Gate, "WHO IS TOUCHING THE SSSSSTHEEEFHUCKING GATE?!"

Next was Kairos Fateweaver, wielding his Staff of Tomorrow as the Tome of Destiny irradiated magical power, his two heads practically blazing with anticipation while his horde of Horrors and Flamers swarmed at his sides, "At last! We have found the materials! (We have found no one) My face shall be avenged! (It's just a rock. Just a bunch of perfect rocks.)"

Next was the Masque of Slaanesh, its black mane of hair flowing in the wind as it danced and danced, twirling its Masked Septer as its troops of Daemonettes danced alongside her great dance, "OH-HO-HO-HOOO~! The weak will of the war god will completely capitulate come the crushing cacophony of Chaos! OOooOOOOOoO!"

Next was Epidemius, his diseased and bloated form still on his throne with his Plague Dagger in his hand raised whole surrounded by his legion of Plaguebearers, including the one who wore a fedora, seeking to avenge his family, "LET'S FUCK EM UP, SON!"

Next was The Bronze Taurus, a massive creature that resembled a Bloodthirster but seemed more like a bronze golem than a daemon, molten iron and fire blasting inside its inner forge as it exhaled ash and smoke, its bolted rending fists shaking as its fingers terminating in spiked claws, hooved legs stomping on the unstable earth below as its clockwork wings flared out and swarms of K'daai blazed their way forward, "BURN, MATERIALS! BUUUUUURRRRNNNN!"

Next was Megalodrus, a Wrecker of Fleets, a massive creature that resembled both Cthulhu and a Mind Flayer, tentacles covering a maw of fangs with shark-like and octopoid skin, wings that seemed to shadow others and caused storms at its flaps, burning red eyes, and waves crashing through his body, surrounded by hundreds of Tiderippers that made several waves of Warpseas, "REAP THE TIDES!"

Finally, was the worst of them all, the Red Lord of Alagadda, clad in bright red flowing robes that seemed to have a mind of their own as they flowed and fluttered in the unseen wind, whatever was underneath being hidden by the robes and his face was hidden by a mirthful theater mask as a porcelain guise with eyes wide and manic, a smile carved from cheek to cheek, golden markings and jewelry, as he led a legion of Jesters that laughed madly, "AHAHAHAHAHAHA! LET THE MADNESS COMMENCE!"

As if commanding both Epidemius and the Red Lord, several Rot Flies flew overhead, carrying with them several bags filled with the compounds that the Great Unclean Ones had packed, capable of exploding with all kinds of acidic and corrosive chemicals that would melt the flesh off the bones of anything that would be caught in the past.

Thankfully for the Imperials, the Grey Knights spotted several of the Rot Flies as they raised their Storm Bolters at them, with one of the Knights yelling out, "Preliminary bombardment incoming!"

"HA! Is that all they've got?!" Leman yelled out, having been itching for a fight ever since Fyodor announced his delusions, "Clank yer shields and announce yer' curses! There is battle to be won today!" His words, burning with Primarch charisma and resolve, immediately raised the morale of the army to where it seemed like it lightened the Warp around them.

Empowered by his words, Grand Master Elirush raised his weapon and yelled to his battle brothers, "GREY KNIGHTS! TO BATTLE POSITIONS!" And with that, the hammers of the Emperor took positions, ready to die for the son of the Emperor.

Perhaps too empowered by his words, Tempestor Cromwell gave his words, "Lord Russ! Let us take care of this! You stay here and protect our Psyker Division!"

However, one of the Scions, Scion Valentine, weakly raised a finger and muttered, "Is that really a good idea?"

"Tempestus Scions, to your positions!" Cromwell ignored Valentine's protests and marched in front of them.

"But our position is right in the bombardment zone!" Scion Priestly protested, adjusting his beret.

"I cannot hear you, Scion Priestly, as you were not given the permission to speak!" Tempestor Cromwell replied as he then repeated, "Now, to your positions!" The others relented as they quickly got into whatever positions their commander gave.

Eventually, however, the Rot Flies reached the Grey Knights overhead, they proceeded to drop the payloads that exploded onto the Grey Knights. However, thanks to the daemonic wards in their armor and their faith, the explosives and corrosive sludge was little more than irritating goo. For every else however, the discharge killed several others and forced them to break positions.

"MOVE IT!" Wilford yelled at the other members of Deathwatch, who observed the bombardment of the Grey Knights and proceeded to move at the ranting Apothecary shouting the obvious, "Ingesting high amounts of explosives equals high risk of suffering terminal DEATH!"

As the Deathwatch moved position, this happened to expose the Tempestus Scions who were now without any cover from a distressingly close preliminary bombardment as Scion Matilda pointed out, "Oi, lads, the Marines are leaving!"

"TAKE COVER!" Scion Priestly shouted out.

"I don't see- I DON'T SEE ANY FUCKING COVER!" Scion Stuart yelled out before he was grabbed and all of the Scions jumped away before they could be reduced to pulp by the dropping bag. The explosion nearly drenched the scions in Nurglite chemicals that burned before they could be splashed onto the soldiers, who swiftly got away from the flames before they could be set ablaze.

"Woaa! That was a close one, mate." Matilda metaphorically whipped her sweat off her brow as she was wearing a helmet.

"The hard, cold ground is cover enough for the Tempestus Scions!" Cromwell exclaimed, his bravado not diminishing in the slightest.

Valentine however saw Inquisitor Quist in the middle of a bombing as he yelled out, "Inquisitor Quist! Watch out!" Adrielle now alerted by the calls, immediately jumped out of the way of the bomb dropping before she was reduced to slurry.

However, several more Rot Flies were heading their way, carrying bomb bags as they neared the Psyker line. Suddenly, all three bags burst into flames, killing the Rot Flies along with saving the Psyker line, as their corpse fell to the sides.

The ones responsible were Leman, Slade, and V1. In Leman's hand was Scornspitter, the master-crafted Bolter that Vulkan had gifted him all those years ago. In Slade's hand was HIVE, the multigun he got on Necromunda. And in V1's hand, was his Marksman pistol.

"By the bleached furs of Fenris, HOLD THEM BACK!" Leman yelled out as they all took positions to fight the oncoming hordes of monsters.

Nothing mattered anymore, just them and surviving the tide of ethereal beasts that came before them. This battle would be legendary.

(Note: I'm not using the tabletop battle like in the actual TTS episode as that would be too troublesome for me to write.)

The seven daemon armies screamed forth as they charged past their leaders and came screeching at the materials, who remained steadfast at the horde of incoming horrors and nightmares.

"They must not get their grubby little claws on our blasted psykers!" Leman shouted out as he brandished Mjalnar at the hordes, "Taurox division! Halt them in their tracks!"

And with that order, several Taurox charged headlong towards the daemon hordes, their turrets firing into the formations further back while their front ends rammed into the front lines, breaking their sternums and stunning them to the point of taking them out of the fight.

"NOICE! A roadblock!" Scion Priestly cheered at that, "Let's see them get through that good and proper!"

"OOOOOO, they're tanky buggers too, they are." Matilda commented at that.

Meanwhile, Cannoness Albia Thorne and the Sisters of Battle marched into formation as the former raised her Power Fist to rally the others, "Come, sisters! A glorious firing line shall welcome the daemon scum beyond these tauroxes!"

Inquisitor Donklas meanwhile having his nerves frayed by the presences of these hellspawn, was marching behind them, clutching his bolt pistol in terror as he meekly muttered out to the Sisters, "I'll just be uh... enforcing discipline here at the back."

Leading the Deathwatch into the fight, Calato let out a laugh as he readied his sword for combat, "Finally, some action!"

"Don't swing around your arms too much, you'll get tendinitis." Wilford informed the Dark Angel, who merely rolled his eyes under his helmet.

Draigo meanwhile was standing on one of the spikes of Khaine's Gate, gazing beyond the storms of immaterial fangs and claws, before Russ called to him, "Draigo! Make your way out onto the field and show these crummy chaos spawn what a true warrior is made of!"

The Supreme Grand Master merely unsheathed Titansword and asked, "Have you even eaten a tangurine?" Suddenly, he rocketed off the spikes, flames roaring from his feet before he crash landed onto the ground with flames surrounding him like an aura of a war god, "Would you like to try one?"

"SANCTIC POWER! GATE OF INFINITzzz..." Suddenly, his power faltered. Confused, Draigo attempted again, "GATE OF INFIographic..." However, the results were the same. At the third try, Draigo was starting to get frustrated, "gATE-!" Only for his powers to fizzle out again.

At first, Slade was confused at how Draigo could not use his powers, but then he saw the d20 on the ground that the Grey Knight then picked up.

"Oh, you are kidding me." Slade deadpanned when he saw why Draigo was failing to hold off the hordes of daemons.

"Worry about him later!" Leman yelled out, ignoring and suppressing his exasperation with Draigo's antics, "Keep formations!"

The others kept firing, praying that Fyodor's delusions were true and that the Emperor was watching them. A Jester managed to free itself from the blockade before it charged at Scion Stuart, who nearly screamed like a little girl at the sight of the hauntingly grinning clown in black, white, red, and yellow cackling dementedly as he raised a scepter-like mace ready to bash his brains out before the thing's head was blown off by a hell bolt from Tempestor Cromwell.

Priestly then proceeded to drink from a tankard that he kept for this occasion, but this time it was filled with daemon tears. So potent in fact that he coughed them up while muttering, "Ugh, that's vile..." He then turned to Scion Stuart, "Oi, Stuart, my son, did you see the taurox roadblock? Pretty cleaver, right?"

Stuart, after regaining his nerves, incredulously asked, "Priestly— there's a Daemon bigger than a house over yon, an' you're thinkin' a bit of inclement traffic's gonna stop 'em?!"

Matilda piped in, "But it's really tanky though, innit?"

However, as if fate worked against her, Skarbrand screamed out as he cleaves through a Taurox in one go, "SKARBRAND HATES TRAFFIC JAMS!"

Stuart understandably panicked at that sight, "Not tanky enough, Matilda! NOT TANKY ENOUGH!"

Matilda, however, was quite calm, "That bloke's got some proper road rage, ya know what I mean?"

Stuart incredulously screamed at her, "HE'S NOT A BLOKE! HE'S A GIANT DAEMON!"

Grant piped in, "Oi bros, I know we've been taught since childhood to always follow orders, not know fear n' all that, right? But I'll be straight with ya. I'm about to shit meself."

Tempestor Cromwell still hadn't lost his bravado as he commanded, "You can shit when you're dead, Scion Grant! Now keep a stiff upper lip, soldier! Fire!" With that, the Tempestus Scions fired their hellguns at the daemonic hordes.

XXX

Meanwhile, V1 fired a massive drill into the head of a Tideripper, who could only cry out before its head was reduced to pulp and it fell apart like split water. The droid merely cocked the drill gun like it was a shotgun before aiming it at a Daemonette who wasn't fast enough to dodge when she was impaled through the ribs, causing her to screech out in both pain and pleasure before exploding.

However, a swarm of Furies came to their position as they glared hatefully at the Primarch and his companions.

"THIS IS FOR MAYOR PRIMSTONE, MATERIALS!"

Their assault was cut off before it could begin when the Vanquisher jumped into the air and fired his guns into the swarm of Furies, each only having a second to react before they were blasted in the head by V1. Several more attempted only to be blasted to oblivion by Leman and Slade with Scornspitter and HIVE, keeping them at bay before any of them could even reach a hair from their psyker line.

While V1, Slade and Russ dealt with the Furies, Freki and Geri growled before charging headlong into the crowd of monsters, tearing off heads and limbs, ripping them in half, too swift for them to strike and too blitzing for them to strategize against them. A Bloodletter cried out as it charged, only for the hand that was holding its Hellblade to be severed at the elbow by a flash of white. The daemon stared at the stump where his hand used to be only for the last thing he ever sees to be a flash of black.

Freki spat out the Bloodletter's head before growling at the other Bloodletters, none of which had an ounce of fear in their eyes as they charged at the black wolf, screaming to avenge their friend before both Freki and Geri tore through them, so swift that they appeared as streaks of black and white.

Leman and Slade kept slashing and firing at whatever daemon they saw, the former letting out a piercing howl that disrupted their forms and caused several daemons to scream out and pop like rotten fruit.

XXX

At the lines of the Taurox holding the daemonettes back, Albia finished chugging down her tankard before she screamed out at the top of her lungs.

"FIRE, SISTERS!"

Several Sisters of Battle fired with reckless abandon at the monsters that surrounded the Taurox, blasting them to pieces as the gunner on the vehicle blasted whatever he could see at a range. However, none were fast enough as the Daemonettes broke free from the Taurox and started slaughtering the Sisters wholesale, though some took several daemonettes down with them.

However, only Canoness survived, knocked away by the explosion of the Taurox' pilot detonating a grenade that killed both the daemonettes and the rest of the Sisters. Seeing this, she tried to get up but was too injured from the blast and Donklas, not wasting this opportunity, started dragging the struggling Canoness away from the fight for a better position, "Now is not the time for lying about. Now is the time for running the fuck away!"

However, Donklas finally worked up the nerve and used his bolt pistol to ward off any daemon that go to close to them, even when Albia had lost consciousness.

The Masque, however, was delighted to see someone who happened to be near the fallen Sisters of Battles, "OoOOoOOOoOOh! Kaldor Draigooo! Terribly long time since the two of use last trampled into one-another."

"TIME IS NOTHING, LOBSTER WITCH!" Draigo screamed out.

The Masque merely continued without a single pause, "After this misplaced material mob is murdered, would you please put in a positive report with the Prince of Pleasure? I've longed to languish beneath my lovely Lord once more."

However, Draigo suddenly began vibrating in place while screaming out, "I AM THE FIREMAN WHOMST SHALL PUT OUT YOUR FLAMES OF ASPIRATION!"

"...Sorry, what?" The Masque drops her usual attitude and reacts with utter bafflement, letting out nervous giggle, "...whaaaaat?"

Suddenly, the screaming Draigo abruptly stabbed her in the gut, causing the Masque to screech out, "TRAAAAITOOOOOR!" Her last was screamed before she was banished back to the Palace of Slaanesh.

XXX

Meanwhile, Fyodor screamed out as he concentrated with all his might to shatter the Gate of Khaine.

"By Terra, Karamazov!" Leman shouted as he desperately tried to get Fyodor to lead instead of focusing on powers he did not possess, "Get down from yer high-chair and go lead your men! For all that's worth savin', we MUST get through this gate, and it can well be done if the psykers are too dead to open it!"

"NO!" Fyodor refused, still deluded enough that he still believed he is the Emperor, "I can shatter this gate! I! AM! THE! EMPEROR!"

XXX

Calato let out a yell as he raised his sword and struck a Jester down before Wilford fired his Bolt Pistol at a Bloodletter, the projectile reducing the head to pulp before Lynius yelled and cleaved the body in half. The Deathwatch Space Wolf then raised his bolter and fired recklessly, killing several daemons simultaneously as the Deathwatch standfast against the raging hordes.

"Plaguebearers, incoming!" One of the Deathwatch members yelled before the Astartes aimed their bolters and fired, killing several Plaguebearers, including one shot by Wilford's bolt pistol.

Epidemius let out a huge gasp at seeing several of his friends gunned down, "MY BOYS!"

"Wow, I actually killed one. With a bolt pistol." Wilford said as he looked at the bolt pistol in his hand, puzzled that he was able to kill a durable Plaugebearer with a mere pistol.

However, that only proceeded to piss off Epidemius who yelled out, "TIME FOR DEATH! OOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The other Plaguebearers charged in, screaming to avenge their friends.

"I regret this decision immediately." Wilford muttered out as he leaned back in fear.

"Don't be a coward, Wilford! We will purge these filthy-" Calato ate his words when the Plaguebearers crashed into him and the other Deathwatch members, nearly slaughtering them wholesale as they overwhelmed the Astartes.

"Tactical retreat! Tactical retreat! Squad Broken!" Wilford yelled as he quite literally dragged both Calato and Lynius from the fight.

"No! No! Vengeance! Vengeance!" Calato yelled out while Lynius howled like a wolf. However, Calato then ceased struggling when he noticed a tankard of Russ' ale on Wilford's utility belt and got an idea.

He rammed his elbow into Wilford's jaw, causing the apothecary to yelp and stumble back, losing his grip on Calato, who then grabbed the tankard and ripped it off the belt holding it and then charged headlong at the surprised Epidemius, slashing away two Plaguebearers before jumping onto the Tallyman's chair and raising the tankard into the air.

"TIME FOR VENGEANCE, YOU BLOATED SACK OF SHIT!" Calato screamed out before shoving the tankard down Epidemius' phlegm filled throat. The ale dumped into the Tallyman of Nurgle's rotting guts, killing all the plagues and bacteria in his stomach. However, the ale began reacting to the various sludges in the Plaguebearer's stomach, causing it to begin to bloat as the Dark Angel leapt off and retreated.

The Ultramarine Apothecary, realizing what was happening, immediately aimed his bolt pistol at Epidemius' bloating gut.

"Here's your antacid." Wilford then fired, the bolt detonating as it pierced the already strained skin of his gut, causing Epidemius to burst into a blaze of purple flames that consumed the other Plaguebearers around them.

"We have to go! COME ON!" And with that, Wilford, Calato, and Lynius retreated.

XXX

The Grey Knights were ablaze in purifying fire, any daemon and corrupted thing spawned from the Warp dying a screaming death as they were flayed in their purifying fires. However, the Red Lord merely laughed before brandishing out his hand as blood red strings erupted from his fingers that then pierced their armor and connected to their nerves, hijacking their nervous systems.

Like a puppetmaster playing with his puppets, the Red Lord yanked the strings, forcing the Grey Knights to move without their will. They impaled themselves on their Nemesis Force Swords, shot themselves with their Storm Bolters, and forced them to burn themselves with their own powers. Any lesser daemon would have been destroyed at such an attempt, but the Red Lord of Alagadda was beyond a mere daemon.

Kairos Fateweaver meanwhile, decided to join in on the fun, "Ah, I can see fellow magicians setting up shop in my neighborhood. Mmmmh. No, no, no. There is no future for them in this industry. Allow me to put you out of business! (Life is pain! I HATE CAPITALISM!)" The Lord of Change then fired a beam of pure warp power that destroyed a squad of Grey Knights.

Elirush saw this and his devastated expression spoke a thousand words, "No... My brothers... Turned to sÅs..."

"HATE! HATE!" His attention was redirected as Skarbrand tore his way through the Taurox barricades with Slaughter and Carnage in his hands.

"WE ARE THE HAMMER!" The Dreadknight that came with the Grey Knights roared as he rammed his fist into Skarbrand's skull before uppercutting him with his other mechanical fist.

However, Skarbrand barely even seemed fazed by the strikes, "SKARBRAND DOESN'T APPRECIATE PHYSICAL CONTACT!" And merely one strike with Carnage was enough to split the Dreadknight in twain.

As the Scions fired, Scion Grant made the grim observation, "Dreadknight's dead, lads."

"That giant winged tossbag is unstoppable!" Scion Stuart meekly squealed in fear.

"Killed a Dreadknight." Priestly repeated.

"It's going to get to the psyker line!" Scion Valentine exclaimed and turned to Tempestor Cromwell for answers, "What do we do?!"

"Just keep firing!" Cromwell yelled out, still not giving into despair, "Have faith in the Emperor, men!"

"NO! NOT AGAIN! BLADE OF PURITY!" Suddenly, Grand Master Elirush summoned all the power he could muster, channeling it all into his Nemesis Force Halberd before it manifested into a blade of pure white and blue that was twice his height that burned with holy purity. Several daemons around them hissed and leaned back at its radiance.

"FOR OUR BROTHERS!" Elirush yelled out as he raised the Blade of Purity before striking at Skarbrand, the white-blue light blade piercing the Exiled One's sternum and even causing him to stumble back. Skarbrand bellowed out in agony, clutching the burnt area on his chest, before he attempted to strike back with Slaughter only for Elirush to parry the Exiled One's strikes before slashing the tendons in his hands, causing the Bloodthirster to scream as he dropped Carnage.

Now having dealt with Skarbrand, Elirush turned to the Red Lord as his red flowing robes flared out, the Grand Master hoping to avenge his fallen brothers.

The Red Lord merely laughed at their attempt on his life, before he raised his hands and unleashed torrents of sanity blasting power at them, taking the shape of masses of eyes, fanged maws, tentacles, and flesh that rocketed towards the 5 surviving Grey Knights. Before the attack could touch any of the remaining Grey Knights, Elirush screamed out before jumping in front of them, pushing several out of the way before he was impaled by the steam of hell energy, cleaving him in half as he fell to the ground, unable to get back up. The Red Lord merely kept laughing, showing his glee at a pure symbol suffering.

However, as the Red Lord laughed with mad mirth, with his dying breath, Elirush grabbed a Psyk-Out grenade from his compartments before pulling the pin and throwing it at the Red Lord. A second passed, then a flash as several Jesters screams as they were banished back to the City of Alagadda while the Red Lord was merely stunned by the blast, actually stumbling back from the blast.

"Go... my brothers..." And with that last breath, Grand Master Elirus passed away. And with that the Grey Knights retreated back to the rear lines with one of them grabbing Elirush's Nemesis Force Halberd out of respect.

"Aw, balls!" Scion Valentine swore, despite firing on whatever he could see, "Almost all the Grey Knights are dead!"

"Yeh?" Scion Grant worriedly exclaimed, "How are we still alive when almost all the GREY FUCKIN KNIGHTS are dead?!"

"See, I reckon we should keep it that way." Scion Stuart pointed out as they slowly stepped back, "So I suggest we advance..." He paused as he hemmed in thought before exclaiming, "Backwards!"

"A reasonable suggestion, Scion Stuart!" Tempestor Cromwell acknowledged as he motioned for them to retreat, "Withdraw to a better position!"

While they retreated along with the Grey Knights, Adrielle Quist was still fighting, however she was too drunken on the ale to focus as Skarbrand came near, muttering out, "Genestealer..."

Which, like everything, proceeded to piss Skarbrand off, "SKARBRAND DISLIKES BEING MISINTERPRETED!" However, just as he was about to reduce her to red mist for that, a voice interrupted him.

"Oh, Skarbrand." The Exiled One turned to see a not too happy Kairos Fateweaver standing before him, "Stop stealing my kills! Those Grey Knights were mine! (I really don't mind.)"

Skarbrand's burning orange and blue eyes narrowed in fury, interrupting him was one thing, accusing him of kill steals just tears it! "SKARBRAND LOATHES STEALING! SKARBRAND IS A RESPECTABLE MEMBER OF SOCIETY!"

"Then why are you taking credit for all my kills, huh?! (I love your horns.)" Kairos accused him, even pointing his staff at him accusingly.

"SKARBRAND HAS ISSUES INTERNEALIZING HIS ACCOMPLISHMENTS AND WOULD THUS NEVER DO SOMETHING SO PETTY!" Skarbrand utterly roared back.

"Genestealer." Adrielle muttered again, still too dazed due to still being drunk or hungover.

However, this caught the Fateweaver's attention as he saw her and recognized her, "That's the one! The one who ravaged my FACE! REVENGE SHALL BE MINE! (I love you, Skarbrand.)" Ignoring Skarbrand's understandably disturbed expression, Kairos lifted the Staff of Tomorrow over his head as the Tome of Destiny charged with infernal power as he roared out, "OOOOOOO! INFERNAL! GATEWAY!"

A beam of crimson power burst from the Staff of Tomorrow, causing all who saw it to nearly go blind from its raw power. However, either due to bad aim, or Tzeentch messing with him, he missed and hit Skarbrand instead, the splash stunning and hurting Quist. However, this proceeded to piss off Skarbrand even more as he proceeded to get back up and marched toward the now scared Kairos, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! THAT HURT ME MORE THAN IT HURT THE MATERIAL!"

The scared Lord of Change could only mutter with his hands up in a surrendering position, "Oh. Well, that's just weird. (I'm glad we have each other.)"

Before Skarbrand could yell out how Kairos' other head was making him uncomfortable, Adrielle slurred out, "I am drun..." She couldn't even finish as she saw Skarbrad turn and raised Slaughter in her direction. Knowing this was her end, Adrielle closed her eyes and gave a small smile as the daemon axe came down towards her, before a bomb in her armor detonated, scorching the flesh on Skarbrand's arm.

Skarbrand however merely shook it off and yelled out, "I'M COMING FOR YOU NEXT, CHAIRBOUND PRANKSTER!"

XXX

Suffice to say, the others were having a distinctly difficult time holding back the daemonic hordes. The Bronze Taurus and Megalodrus were wiping the floor with the Inquisition, while the Red Lord laughed with mirth and joviality. The Master of Oceans conjured a tidal wave of water from the Black Ocean that submerged nearly the extended wing of the Inquisition, while the Bronze Taurus exhaled torrents of orange fire that would have incinerated several others had they not moved out of the way.

Seeing that they needed to get back, Slade suddenly produced a grenade covered in runes and an animal skull before pulling the pin and throwing it in the air before kicking it with his hooved foot. The grenade went flying at the horde of daemons before it detonated after hitting the ground near the feet of a rather curious Plaguebearer who picked it up.

Suddenly, a blue blast blossomed from the object, blinding both the hordes of daemons and the Inquisitors. Several lesser and greater daemons screamed out as their forms were blasted away by that wave of anti-warp charged energy, while the rest of the daemonic horde was disoriented and Megalodrus was shaking his head due to the intense ringing in his ears.

"That'll buy us a few minutes!" Slade yelled out to the group, "Retreat to the Gate!"

The others, especially Donklas, heeded his advice and retreated to the Gate of Khaine. One of three surviving Grey Knights blinked in realization of the blast before he incredulously asked, "How did you get a Psyk-Out grenade!?"

"I swiped it off one of your brothers! Now come on!" Slade hastily explained before continuing to sprint away from the hordes.

Suddenly, Slade noticed something on the ground. A card that he picked up by leaning down and swiping it off the ground in the middle of his mad sprint.

The back was ebony with the trims having floral scroll patterns while at the center was the Imperial Aquila. The background, tinted yellow, is almost entirely obstructed bar the upper left, which seems to emulate either warehouse windows or computer monitors stacked in a grid. Taking up the majority of space in dark hues of black, purple, and blue is machinery and wires forming a throne-like chair, viewed from behind and to the left. Hooked into the chair with many wires connecting to the head is a humanoid figure, head turned towards the viewer, with two bright red eyes, and no other clearly visible facial features. The figure is draped in loose, robe-like clothing.

Somehow, Slade thought to keep this in his pocket just in case.

"V, listen to me!" That shout got V1's attention, making Slade continue, "I need you to buy the Psyker line time so they can shatter the Gate! I'll help if I can, but I don't have many options!"

The drone nodded before his thighs suddenly opened and closed, only for Slade to blink in surprise. In its hands were two highly ornamental bolt pistols akin to Eisenhorn's, the grips had been replaced with ivory, upon which was etched an entwined skull and rose; droplets of blood from the rose thorns were represented by inlaid carmine gems. The main difference being one was white with black floral scroll patterns and the other was black with white floral scroll patterns.

These were his special pistols: Fear and Loathing.

A single shot caused a K'daai to burst into nothing before he aimed both at some Tiderippers that came too close, firing bolts of searing power that vaporized the watery constructs they tried to muster against him before they too were killed. A plaguebearer turned only to be too slow for the next bolt to blow its brains out, including the Horror that happened to be behind it. A daemonette saw this and attempted to slash at the Iron Vanquisher only for its chest and torso to be blown off with two shots, before then blasting the head off a Bloodletter that came near.

However, as his rampage continued, V1 noticed that he was now surrounded by daemons. They had abandoned the pursuit of the materials to focus solely on slaying the Vanquisher who didn't

"This?" The Iron Vanquisher's words appeared over his yellow blaring eye in a red hologram as he gestured around him, to Skarbrand, Kairos, Megalodrus, the Red Lord, looking at the leader of the forces of the Father of Darkness, "This is the best you can send after me? Honestly, dear; I'm almost insulted."

"Lay down and die, Vanquisher!" One of the bloodletters shouted, pointedly ignoring his taunts and brandishing his sword at him, encouraging the others to do the same, "You are surrounded!"

"All I'm surrounded by is fear." The Vanquisher retorted before brandishing his new guns, Fear and Loathing, the teeth of the saws in his arms reeving, "And dead daemons."

The Plaguebearer with the fedora screamed as he charged at V1 to slay him for slaying his family only for his head to be blown off by a single shot from Fear and for his body to be blasted to mulch by a shot from Loathing. A jester threw a chained knife at the Vanquisher's leg, only for him to wrap the chain around his leg and yanked the jester forth and fired a shot from Loathing that left a basketball sized hole in its chest, before aiming Fear behind him and firing, blowing the head off a Daemonette that attempted to sneak attack him.

A Bloodletter was suddenly impaled on his own Hellblade before V1 shot a Nurgling in the gut, cleaving it in half before it was then shot in the head, blowing it to mush, before another kick from V1 impaled a Horror through the mouth and bringing his leg up, splitting it in half. Suddenly, both guns were on full auto as they sprayed bullets all around, blasting several hundred daemons at once.

All the Inquisition that wasn't on the Psyker line stared in shock as they saw V1 singlehandedly fighting the daemonic hordes by himself and was barely seeming to slow down.

"Look at him go..." Scion Stuart was really glad his helm was concealing his face so that no one could see his slackened jaw, especially after the machine put a Bloodletter in a chokehold before ripping its head off.

Meanwhile, Slade was currently having trouble staying alive against the Bronze Taurus, ducking and dodging all of the golem's strikes that split the ground, spewing fire at the frantic cloaked man who ran up a spike and backflipped over the Taurus as it punched the spike, crushing it into dust before Slade fired HIVE at the back of the thing's head, the shots barely even affecting it as he ran.

"What's wrong, monkey?" The golem taunted as he stomped toward the fleeing man, "Running like the coward you are?"

"Not, running. Improvising." Slade retorted as he leapt over a daemonette and K'Daai before throwing both at the golem, who swatted both away with the back of his hand which proved to be a big enough distraction for him to run.

"Is that the best you can do, golem? I thought you had daemonic superiority on your side?" Slade intentionally mocked, knowing that a daemon's pride was their biggest weakness.

"Damned mortal! I'll burn you until you are smoldering ash!" The Bronze Taurus roared as its arm became a massive cannon of gears, discharging a man-sized shell as the car-sized casing was dispensed from a rectangular opening on the forearm. The shell impacted the spot where Slade occupied a nanosecond ago after he jumped out of the way.

Enraged by this mortal, the Bronze Taurus aimed again and fired. This time, Slade didn't have a chance to dodge, as it rocketed toward his back. The millisecond before the shell could split him in half, V1 saw it and warped behind Slade before parrying the shell back at the golem before warping back to his original spot.

The shell hit the Taurus dead on in the chest, bursting the chest plate open like a rotten fruit, exposing the churning gears and orange furnace-like interior as the daemon inhabiting the golem screeched out in pain. Stumbling back, the Taurus looked down upon its exposed chest, willing the metal to melt and fuse back together, mending the wound created by the deflected round.

"NOW, V!" Slade yelled out to the Iron Vanquisher upon seeing the Taurus distracted, who had dropkicked a Tideripper in half.

Seeing the signal, V1 swerved towards Megalodrus, who couldn't react in time before the Vanquisher speared towards it at neckbreak speeds, his foot extended as he collided into the Master of Oceans' chest, that caved in upon contact. Megalodrus' face bulged before the daemon puked up a massive torrent of black inky liquid into the air as it stumbled back, and the black liquid drenched the other daemons, who melted at the touch.

However, before the Master of Oceans could recover from the strike from the Vanquisher, V1 appeared before his face and threw a single punch that would crack mountains, connecting to the greater daemon's skull. The ground he was standing on split into a chasm as Megalodrus fell screaming into its dark depths that soon filled with Warpwater as several other deamons fell into its depths.

The Bronze Taurus turned in shock at the sudden formation of the crevasse before Slade jumped onto its face and pulled the pin on a krak grenade before throwing it into the mouth of the golem. Just as it was about to detonate, Slade backflipped off, landing on his feet as the golem turned to him in confusion after the sudden action against it.

Suddenly, the krak went off inside the golem, ripping through several gears and mechanisms as it suddenly went stiff. Seizing the opportunity, V1 delivered a massive kick to the golem's chest, sending the stiff construct falling into the chasm filled with Warp water with a massive splash, nearly soaking Slade who leapt back in anticipation.

However, just moments later, the water boiled and steamed as Taurus rose back up from the water, outright blistering with rage as the liquid covering it began vaporizing and steaming, "And I just keep GETTING REMINDED of my failures!"

"You mean your failure at killing me or V or just in general?" Slade snarked as he readied HIVE for a fight,

That proceeded to be the straw that broke the camel's back, the golem howls in anger and proceeds to throw a punch at the cloaked man, who dodged as the truck-sized fist splintered the ground that he stood on just a moment ago. However, this time Slade wasn't fast enough as the golem grabbed his arm and then threw the cloaked man into the ground, cracking it and leaving a crater that he laid in out of pain.

By some miracle, he didn't think any of his bones were broken... assuming he still had bones. However, before he could escape, the golem then stomped his foot onto Slade's sternum, nearly crushing it and pinning the cloaked man to the ground, only ceasing struggling when he saw the Taurus aiming its weapon at him. However, the golem suddenly became incredibly calm, calm to the point where the orange of its interior turned a cold blue.

"You know, I think I have an insta-fix for this situation: I'm going to blow you and this whole miserable plane to nothing!" The Bronze Taurus roared out as he begins charging a truly destructive shot in its cannon, "ISN'T THAT FUN!?" The golem starts laughing maniacally while the air swirled around him, holding the Death Charge with his cannon.

Slade stared at the orb of death, and upon seeing V1 and Russ fighting the daemon hordes back, he knew what must be done. Slade dug into one of the pockets of his cloak and after praying for this to work, threw Draigo's d20 at the Knight, flying in the air until it reached the Knight's feet, who stood there stoically as his eyes rolled down to the dice.

The die had rolled a 20.

At seeing this, Draigo gain an almost literal face splitting grin before he rocketed towards the golem, screaming his head off. The Bronze Taurus while laughing madly until he stops as he hears the sound of screaming.

"What?" The Taurus looks behind and notices the Supreme Grand Master of the Grey Knights charging at him, with his sword poised for a piercing thrust while he was screaming at the top of his lungs, "Oh... somehow I completely forgot about that."

Draigo roared out like a raging comet before he pierced through the Bronze Taurus through the chest, ripping out of the other side with the iron heart pierced through the blade of Titansword in a stream of molten brass before the organ exploded in a splash of molten metal.

Now in mind shattering agony, the Bronze Taurus had been robbed of its ability to speak, now thinking, 'If I had any single regret for the countless horrific events that have transpired in my wake... it's that I'm dying.' The Bronze Taurus screams as his body permanently stiffens, leaving the daemon inside trapped for all eternity.

However, Slade, who had been freed by Draigo, then extended his clenched hand to the leg and then gave it a single flick, causing the construct to lean before it fell into the crevasse of water, sinking under its own weight.

V1 landed in between Slade and Draigo, as they all stared at the sinking form of the Bronze Taurus before the drone suddenly raised his hands and the three hi-fived each other.

Suddenly, there was a roar, "HATE! HATE!" They turned to see Skarbrand roaring out as he rumbled towards them with Slaughter and Carnage ablaze with Warpfire, and countless other daemons behind him, eager to slaughter them all. The Red Lord of Alagadda was right behind him, laughing all the way with his Jesters. And as if to make the matters worse, a hand shot up from the chasm of water, revealing the still alive and incredibly pissed off visage of Megalodrus.

"Let's go." Slade calmly said as the three fled to the Gate.

XXX

However, at the gate, morale had all but evaporated as the Psyker line barely seemed to be even scratching the Gate, one of the psykers even exploding like a blood-filled balloon at the strain of his powers, even with V1 and Draigo arriving. Meanwhile, Fyodor still deluded, tried to call upon the Emperor's power to no effect, despite his protests.

"I know I am it!" Fyodor yelled, still undeterred as he kept trying to call upon the power of the Emperor.

"Shut yer self-aggrandizing gob, you delusional recliner sidewinder!" Leman barked at Fyodor, finally done humoring Fyodor's delusions, "We don't have time for this! NOBODY'S got time for this! They're almost upon us!"

"Please, my Lord!" Albia Thorne pleaded, now incredibly worried now that her sister are dead and that Skarbrand was fast approaching, "If you truly are Him, open this gate!"

Donklas seemed close to a breakdown as he tried to keep his composure, "All my friends are dead... I don't want to die in this horrible magical hell..."

"Lord Karamazov. Don't let our brother's deaths be for naught!" Both Calato and a Grey Knight said at the same time, neither noticing nor caring at the coincidence.

"Staying here is medically inadvisable but I'm sure you already knew that." Wilford pointed out, his calm tone being weirdly out of place.

"Not! Helping!" Calato seethed at the apothecary who remained apathetic.

"Sir, that giant fuck-off daemon and his cohorts are gaining on our position!" Scion Stuart yelled out in terror as he was starting to crack from the pressure.

"Lord Inquisitor, we have no space left to fall back to!" Tempestor Cromwell yelled out, starting to crack under the pressure like his subordinate, "Please hurry up and open this gate if you really are the Emperor!"

"IF YOU REALLY ARE THE EMPEROR!" The others echoed, causing the damn inside Fyodor's mind to break and his delusions to wash away any reason he had left, now fully deluded into believing that he is the Emperor of Mankind.

"NO! I know I am it!" Fyodor screamed out for all the Warp to hear, "I know I am the one!"

Suddenly, Skarbrand shattered the psyker line, ceasing what little progress had been made at shattering the Gate of Khaine.

"I!"

Skarbrand raised Slaughter over his head, the weapon ablaze with bloodlust.

"AM!"

Scion Stuart screamed as the others moved out of the way of the Bloodthirster, Wilford grabbing Calato before he could be reduced to red mist. The others preparing for a final fight.

"THE!"

"SKARBRAND HATES THE BALD AND THE BALDING ALMOST AS MUCH!" The Exiled One roared as he raised Slaughter to reduce Fyodor to ribbons as he charged at the Lord Inquisitor.

No one noticed Fyodor's eyes suddenly burning with gold as the axe was about to be brought down.

"EMPEROR!

Suddenly, just as Skarbrand's axe was about to smite Frodor, time itself was halted. Slade and V1 raising their guns to fire on the raging bloodthirster, the other members of the Tempestus Scions scrambling out of range while Cromwell closed his eyes in acceptance, the others merely unable to halt their doom.

It all began as the tunes of any symphony, humble and enchanting with the telltale ticking of a clock. Fyodor, amongst his men, trapped in a roar that was prolonged in a silent second. As he did so, the daemons paused, the Empyrean's denizens one with their environment as much as it was with them. Above they saw it, each of them a fragment of something more, and they saw two fragments separate from their patrons.

"Well, there he is." Rasped a man whose life had been robbed far too late for the liking of Fyodor Karamazov. His robes and banner hadn't been lost, brought with him as a sign that still, even in death, his allegiance remained with the Imperium which had so eviscerated his vocal chords.

"Ah, excellent." Came the appreciative voice of an etheric, enigmatic figure carried upon a barque made from unfinished and soon to be accomplished dreams and aspirations. "Thank you for your company." Purred he who spoke in gentle, tender light of lilac between the feathers of the angelic Living Saint whose wings moved softer than butterfly beats through air made still by the Star Child's presence. Celestine, Deandra, and Gabriel were the only one who made their radiant presence known.

"Nah, it's all good." Dominique dismissed harmlessly, believing the high of the daemon ale to be worth it, "I've enjoyed myself. If I knew I'd trip this hard drinking daemon innards, I'd have died a loooong time ago! Besides that though, I had to make sure you'd find Fyodor alright." Even as he spoke to the being whose very body was the light of a mother's heart upon the gaze of her babe, Dominique's eyes never shook from Fyodor's enraged expression, one he'd known to be so common throughout their time as companions.

"You were a reliable subject, but I would have found him all the same. Your duty is done, Dominique." The Star Child assured, beckoning the dead man closer and arriving his hand to hold the servant's shoulder in the way only found between a father and his son.

"Yeah…" Nodded the Imperial servant, blinking now after so long he'd stared upon his former master, eyes turning to look upon Celestine. "Yeah, I know… I just wanted to stick around for a liiittle longer."

His words brought a smile to Celestine's face, as well as that of several daemons which patiently awaited the arrival of what they and their makers had been expecting for several millennia now. "That you cannot be condemned for. Without you, Fyodor Karamazov would not have shaped up to be the bitter, dogmatic, and furiously self-assured vessel that he is today!" As she spoke did her breast not move, did her lips not flutter, not her eyes blink for she too basked within the still calm bestowed upon by the Star Child's presence. Her feathers were trapped like in epoxy, yet they glowed with a radiance only smothered by the kindness of her lord.

"And because of that, we have a chance to set right what was wronged." Deandra said as she gave a smile almost as bright as the stars themselves, having an aura like that of an actual angel, "Everyone owes you so much, Dominique."

"It is true." Gabriel gave his thoughts as well, the smile audible in his words, "With this, the tides of the dark can be pushed back yet again. There are not enough thanks for your work, Dominique."

"Just did what I had to. It wasn't hard, I just had to be myself really." Dominique insisted, milking the moments he had to look upon his friend, mournful he'd not see it all to the end.

(Stringstorm OST- Chairbound Prankster)

"But…y'know," He said while his gaze was locked at the still frozen Fyodor with a saddened expression, "I'll miss 'im."

"Do not worry." The Star Child pleaded softly, leaning in to be heard by his material self's servant, knowing that such a servant deserved more than he could ever give, "Even when you are gone, you will always be by our side."

"Y'know…that doesn't sound all that bad…" Admitted the dutiful servant to the Emperor, finally lowering his banner and loosening the robe which contained the light which composed his being.

"Come," Celestine told him, fading through the air to take Dominique in her arms as if he were but a wee bird beside the chapel of a paradise world. "We must go now."

"Yeah, let's blow this joint!" He agreed, beaming brightly in excitement for whatever lay ahead of him, a last look cast now upon his dear master.

"Goodbye, Dominique." The Star Child bid, audibly smiling in excitement for the deceased mortal and for the future awaiting them all.

"Bye Star-Man." Cheered the excited man whom began to become the child which had always been his true self, speaking to Fyodor in his classic manner. "Hey! Hey, Fyodor!" The eyes of Karamazov seemed to meet Dominique's one last time, causing a smile to form, "Have a happy new year, pal!" Like that was he bathed in light and returned to his nature as a dove to be born anew in the Materium, a daemon of the Imperium and one of its most beautiful creatures in the galaxy.

"Farewell for now, Lord Star Child." Celestine chortled, the dove safely in her hand to be delivered to its new life.

"Goodbye for now, Lord Star Child!" Deandra waved cheerfully.

"May we see you sooner, Lord Star Child." Gabriel bowed his head.

"See ya, Dreamer! Goodbye, Deandra. Farewell, Gabriel." The Star Child bid, his disciples vanishing with flair and gusto, as the daemons below changed to suit the description one Uriah Olathaire had given them: angels. Weapons were now instruments to be played, the Star Child's words a conductor unto themselves as he beheld his vessel.

"So, you finally did make it." The Star Child said, staring down at Fyodor like he had finished a lifelong journey, "I've been waiting for you, you throne-bound, angry, incre-he-hedably hypocritical man." The Star Child chuckled again before finishing, the smile audible in his words, "I'm going to feel right at home."

Down like a leaf from its branch did the Star Child's barque find itself laying into sync with the flow of time with Karamazov, allowing himself to bind to a mortal form for the first time in ten millennia. And with his return to this layer of the Empyrean was the rise of his orchestra heard by all around him. All that lived, had lived and would live now knew the sound of the Imperium's love and care.

His form, now a pure orb of light descended down to the burning soul of Fyodor Karamazov before they both became one.

A light, stronger than anything ever before and ever to come from the Warp, blazed from the body of its new host, causing the daemon axe of Slaughter to reel back from its overwhelming force. The Red Lord screams as he shielded his eyes from the light, Megalodrus' eyes widened at seeing the burst of light and hope, Kairos was silent as he soon realized what he had brought, and Skarbrand was too busy screaming in agony at the light to think.

It grew larger and larger, eclipsing the Gate of Khaine as it shattered. All of the Warp, the Realm of Brass and Blood, the Crystalline Labyrinth, the Garden of Nurgle, the Silver Palace, the Dark Chasm, the City of Fire and Desolation, the Black Ocean, and the City of Alagadda, the light shined, and all things evil felt the burn of hope renewed.

No daemon stood, no Chaos Astartes, no abominable intelligence, no fungus, nor Aeldar knew this sound until it arose as a typhoon of flourish and joy and light. Across the galaxy swam the song of a Chairbound Prankster, bathing it in the summer glow along beachsides at dawn, turning every Guardsman's supporting fire into an inferno of righteousness as Orks snarled in surprised. Possessed burned away, soulless husks as their possessors returned from whence they came. Commissars basked in absolvement of their wrongdoings, as pure as their first day in life again, while the most foolhardy generals discovered wisdom beyond their years!

A Tau's mind was beholden to a proto-God, the pheromonally controlled creature's very nostrils flaring into a new life form to cry with joy as the Star Child was born materially and the doors that were Khaine's Gate were spread wide to let even Commorragh know that salvation was here! The universe abroad heard it as well, a crescendo carried out by the wayward made standard and the lost made found, for the Tyranid threat discovered its first, true emotions. Awe and wonder.

---

Ephrael Stern raised her sword as she came to a high vaulted, cathedral like chamber coated in a mockery of organic tissue, pulsing and quivering with foul energies from beyond the veil. A thing of stultifying hideousness was before her, having a thousand limbs and a single burning mouth that expelled green blazing flames that she shielded herself against with her powers before she lashed out with a flare of Warp Lighting, causing mass burns on its sickly green hide that began shedding the burnt parts like a serpent.

Her sisters fought beside her, bringing bolter and blade to the filthy heretics that had plagued this sacred world, but their faith was not as endless as their limits, tiring and but never did the thought of surrender come.

Suddenly, it happened.

The light of the Emperor, hotter than stars themselves, burned into the hateful cathedral, burned the screaming creature into dust, burned the deluded fools that worshipped it, and burned its presence away.

Ephrael stopped and gaped, as did her sisters when she turned to both of them, who looked just as shocked as she was. They turned to the ramshackle doors as they parted, revealing the burning city on a world where their Sisters fought alongside the Death Korps of Krieg against the heretics that plagued it. The fighting had stopped, the light had broken through as the traitors died screaming, but none heeded them as they stared up in the sky.

The Maw, once as symbol of terror, now shined like a new sun that cast a pure white light that shined even in the darkest corners of the world. Sister, Guardsman, the dregs of the world coming out to see the first light that reached their world.

Stern dropped to her knees as she felt the blaze of light from the Maw, feeling something she did not feel since her childhood. A wetness then came down her cheek, catching it in one of her gauntleted hands and letting it be revealed to her eyes.

It was a tear.

She was crying.

When had she cried last?

"The Emperor Lives!" One of the dregs of the crowd roared out, no one knew his name and he didn't care. A Krieg guardsman repeated his words, then the Commissar, then one of her Sisters, and then Stern herself repeated it. Without a moment more, the crowds cheered out as something was reignited after so many millennia of being lost.

"THE EMPEROR LIVES! THE EMPEROR LIVES!"

Then, Ephrael did was she hadn't done in so many years: she laughed. A laugh light and happy, tears from her eyes as she saw the product of her faith renewed once more.

Is this what Hope felt like?

...It's so warm.

---

They all remember where they were then. On the First Day.

He was on Perlia. They were still cleaning up wreckage from the Second Siege; counting their own dead, trying to rebuild what Warmaster Varan knocked over, while he was stuck running interference for Amberly while she made sure anyone who saw who really know what happened to the Shadowlight was either pulled off world or... encouraged to forget.

And somehow in the middle of it all, the survivors of his class of commissar cadets scraped together a brief memorial for Donal; the poor kid who Varan brainwashed and set against us. Those of that read Cain's rambling memoirs know that he was not known for his piety, no matter what his image might suggest. Yet somehow he got stuck with giving a eulogy for a young man who reminded him too much of himself in his younger years.

He kept it as short as he could, but it wound up being even shorter than he'd planned. No sooner had he concluded a not-altogether inaccurate account of Donal's bravery and sacrifice and was about to finish off with some Emperor-bothering nonsense he'd been mouthing off since he had graduated from the Schola Progenium and bundled off to the 12th Valhallan Field Artillery.

That's when it happened.

Ciaphas Cain and his students all looked up from the flag-draped casket to the sky, feeling what happened before they saw it.

Because he was back. The Emperor lived again.

No one needed to be told either. Cain looked out at the faces of those students that he'd tried to forge into something that might survive the crucible of war without being killed by their own side... and he saw it all on their faces.

He saw it on Amberly's face when she appeared next to him and held his hand. For a short while at least, neither gave a damn who saw, as she whispered three words to him in the most heartfelt tone he had ever heard from her.

"Happy New Year."

---

Serena was helping both Alistair and Elitras with moving stuff around the Watchtower when it happened. Maybe it was some capacitor doohickey or something, she didn't bother listening to Dexter on whatever the hell it was. He said it was necessary for something that would better coordinate the Pylons and that maybe he could use it to make portals so that he could send drones to explore the Warp. Jack was there too, helping them as the League and the GDF came together.

It was only when they dropped the parts off at Dexter's lab in the Watchtower that it happened.

A white light, brighter than the stars themselves, burst forth from the Maw of Annihilation, lighting the galaxy itself in a wave of warm. All over the world they could fell it, an emotion needing to be rekindled in such a dark time; Hope.

She remembered when she and the others first basked in the Emperor's light all those years ago. Ever since then, it paled compared to this. The amount of hope she was filled with seemed like it was a microcosm compared to the radiance she felt now.

Serena saw Dexter staring at it in awe, for once not having anything to say, even when Elitras rubbed his head affectionately. Alistair was staring at the light before a laugh bubbled from his throat before he cheered out with his arms raised.

She felt Jack's hand lock with hers, turning to see him smiling at her with Agent Honeydew at his side. Serena beamed as leaned against his shoulder, feeling as if everything was right with the world.

She turned to see her sisters, her father and his colleagues, and the other members of the Justice League staring out into the shining light. Belicara let a laugh bubble out as she bearhugged both Cyrene and Utonium, who both stared at the light in awe. Professor Membrane let out a loud and jovial laugh while Professor Wakemen laughed with Jenny.

Superman let out a breath of awe, Wonder Woman and Flash both had an awestricken expression, Green Lantern and Martian Manhunter had their mouths open in awe, Hawkgirl had a teary smile, and Batman, for once, smiled.

Serena turned back to the light and said three simple words.

"Welcome home, E."

---

Warren barely had a happy moment after Sharpwood, especially after he told the Ghosts to go their own way without him, who had become guardian angels that defended the innocent from the Neverborn and the Corrupted. Despite that, he knew what he did was right; he wasn't a great hero of a story told in legends past, he was the main character of a tragedy born from a book by Franz Kafka.

One stupid mistake and he was left like this; a wanderer who had no one.

But he stopped trying to blame someone as all the people he could blame are all dead and there was no way he could blame E. With that, he merely wandered around the states as little more than a nobody, who looked like just a regular hobo: a thick beard and mustache with his shoulder length white hair covered by a beanie, a brown leather jacket over a grey hoodie that hid a white long-sleeve shirt, white khakis with black tennis shoes.

Suffice to say, most people mistook him for a hobo then actually just a cultist hunter wandering around the states. And those that did recognize him were too scared to report him to the police, so that was a plus at least.

However, tonight was different.

Wandering the streets of Chicago as it snowed and trying to find a hotel to stay at, he turned after he felt something shift. A ripple turned a wave that he felt when he looked back up to the sky, at the Maw that stared down at them all like it was a god of evil coming to steal their souls.

However, before he had a chance to react, the Maw lit the night sky with a pure blinding light, causing all those around to stop and stare. Even the traffic had halted, some even coming out of their cars to stare at the light.

Warren's mouth was agape as he came to the edge of the sidewalk, staring up at the light as he felt something that he thought he lost a long time ago: Hope.

Then a voice, calm and melodic, came to him in his thoughts.

"So, you finally did make it." A calming voice overflowing with compassion chuckled gently at the man, "You've done me proud, Warren."

A wheeze escaped Warren's throat before it slowly began to morph into something more.

It was a laugh. A genuine joyous laugh.

"YEAH!"

Warren cheered out with his arms in the air, not caring if that brought attention to him as he let his hope show out into the world.

---

It remembered.

It remembered when it first came into existence.

It remembered when the first of itself came into the void.

It remembered when the hunger overtook it.

It remembered when the King in Metal saw it as it ate a planet of crystal.

It remembered when it saw the flash in the distance that caught its eye.

It remembered traveling across the void, staring at the stars.

It remembered the beacon that left it salivating in hunger

It remembered the water planet where it first ate the humans.

It remembered the Warriors in Blue that stemmed the tide.

It remembered the Greenskins and their relentless love of battle.

It remembered the hot golden light at the edge of the galaxy.

It remembered the burst as a brighter, yet darker light shined upon it.

It did not remember this.

The place where it saw the darker light, now shined with a light brighter than the stars themselves. Several million of its bioships died in an instant at its burning presence, like an inferno of luminance, nary a dent in its biomass yet wracking it with pain as its tendrils recoiled from the galaxy. Its eyes turned to the distance where it saw it.

It came from the Scar in the Void, shining brighter than the stars themselves.

For the first time in its existence, the Tyranid Hive Mind felt something other than hunger.

For the first time in its existence, it felt awe.

---

In the Castle of Sin, Mandy shielded her eyes with her arm as the light of the Emperor shined through the domed room she was currently inhabiting, feeling the light burn against her skin as her power tried to fight against its storm. One moment, she was in this room, thinking of her next move against the Emperor and waiting for her chance to strike at him.

Then the light burned through her castle, shining like a newly born star.

How? How could this have happened? She was sure of it. She played her pieces right, set the game to her advantage, made it so that the Emperor's Compassion would be lost forever more to the tides of the Warp. Had she made a mistake? No, she couldn't have. The visions were clear, this wasn't supposed to happen! So then why did it? Was there a reason? Why did this happen?!

"T-That's impossible..." Mandy stuttered, barely capable of keeping her closure before she screamed as if trying to rage back against the storm of light, "THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE! THE EMPEROR CANNOT WIN! THE EMPEROR IS A DOOMED THING OF A DEAD DREAM! HE CANNOT WIN THE LONG WAR!"

"Wrong."

The voice cut off her screams, a face of whiteness with flowing hair and narrowed eyes of burning gold glared at her and into her pitch-black soul.

"I am the Emperor of Mankind. And I defy fate."

She was shaken even after it faded, falling to her knees as she let out a scream. It was not a scream of rage. It was not a scream of confusion or outrage.

No.

It was a scream of fear.

---

On Terra, the giant of a man that was the Lord Regent of the Imperium stared out at the skies, an expression of familiarity on his face.

On a battleship escaping from the Castle of Sin, the Praetorian of Terra turned as the Warp was alit with power and purity.

In the Labyrinth of Tzeentch, a red winged giant and a dark shadow turned as the crystals glistened with the pure light.

In the Garden of Nurgle, a hooded reaper with diaphanous wings and a skeletal giant with silver arms that refused to be corrupted turned at the light.

In the Colosseum of Khorne, two giants of battle, one blasting hot and the other blistering cold turned at the sight of the light.

And in the Palace of Slaanesh, a slithering snake and a silver angel turned at the newly born light.

Together, they all spoke one word.

"...Father?"

---

The sounds of battle overcame the lone guardsman, huddled in his trenches, his dirty hands trembling as he attempted to claim one last powerpack for his lasgun. He found none. He looked to his right, his friend cold and lifeless with his failed rifle in his hands. To his left, he saw a heretic astartes in red with spiked gold trims fire a single bolt into his sergeant's head, reducing it to a shower of blood, bone, and gore.

Then he heard the stomps of ceramite boots close and the hateful laughter of a killing god.

He looked up, into the night sky, knowing his demise was near but only hoped for one last glimpse of Holy Terra itself. However, he was then greeted with the sight of a heretic marine recoil, recoil in physical and spiritual pain as a blinding pure light washed over and through him and his allies.

A new feeling was felt, one deep in his chest, one he had never felt before. He turned to the woman that he fell in love with ever since his childhood, Rita, who stared at the light in equal awe. Even amidst the screaming, wailing, inhuman killing machines that burned at its presence, he felt his hand connecting with hers as the light shined with a feeling stronger than ever before.

The light, so bright, so peaceful, washed across the planet and all the galaxy. Each stood, looking first to the heavens, seeing for the first time, the new dawning of Mankind, and then, they stood and cast back the recoiling dark forms of the traitor, those that cast aside what made them human.

And as he and the others charged into the wailing, writhing, screaming forms of the heretic marines, they understood what the feeling in their hearts were.

It was Hope.

---

Back at the Gate of Khaine, Russ uncovered his eyes, seeing a sight that he thought he would never see. The gate was cracked open, the hordes were blasted away, all that surrounded him was whiteness, just like back home.

But none of that compared, even for a heartbeat, to the moment shared between a father wreathed in gold and mechanism…with his son, armed with sword and ceramite, as the fog lifted and only one word was spoken. A single word shared by all who knew the name and being which stood before them, be it a human or an alien. Leman Russ, scarred and wounded, looked upon the youthful, bearded mortal-no-more and spoke the singular word all knew he shared with nineteen other incredible demigods of the human race.

"...Father?"

And so, Hope, once thought lost, was reignited once more.

---

I know what you're all probably thinking, why did I forgo the tabletop game part of the battle of Khaine's Gate? One, it would be too time consuming for me to replicate, and two I just felt it would take away the emotional impact of the Emperor's Compassion.

As for Freki and Geri, I take their designs after their models than official artwork.

However, if you allow me to rant a little. I HATE the Xeelee Sequence. Not only does it feel both bloated and dark for dark's sake, but I hate the author's views on humanity and how we're nothing but destructive animals.

Tell me, Baxter. If we're so terrible, why are we still around? Why hasn't another World War happened in almost 90 years? As Linkara said, "Sure, humans kill each other. We kill for passion, madness, rage, love, war, and lord knows other things. And yet, we've got six billion people running around the planet. Almost as if people who kill other people are the exception rather than the rule."

For those of you that are wondering why I put a sense of hope in Embrace All Chaos, it's because, as a rule of writing, there needs to be something that keeps us going, something that holds us onto the sense that things can get better, something that shows us that their sacrifice has a meaning to it.

It's why I like Lord of the Rings over Game of Thrones, it's why I like Code Geass over Akame ga Kill, it's why I like Doctor Who over the Xeelee Sequence, and it's why I like Samurai Jack over all those 90's antiheroes.

That's why I added a sense of hope to Embrace All Chaos.

Unfortunately, as you all know by now, Kevin Conroy, the legendary voice of Batman, died in November due to cancer. Batman is by far my favorite superhero, and it breaks me that his most famous VA died.

And as if I couldn't hate this year enough already, Jason David Frank, the actor that played the legendary Tommy Oliver from Power Rangers, died of (as of writing) unknown causes, but some sources claim he committed suicide. Jason was a massive part of my childhood as I watched Power Rangers religiously when I was a kid, and to hear that he died just feels like I was broken even more.

RIP Kevin Conroy (1955-2022) and Jason David Frank (1973-2022) Gone, but never forgotten.

But as always, feel free to make a reaction fic or a TV Tropes page.

See ya next time!