Based off of Dahmiel's draft. Think gamers/players spawning into the universe of Warhammer 40K and have the mentality of your average GTA Online, funny/causal modding Arma 3 regiments, Garry's Mod, and Team Fortress 2 player. And other games that would make someone 'insane.'
I don't know where I'll take this. Just putting this out there. Dahmiel even had a cover for it!
Chapter 1:
Within the shifting and tumultuous Warp, four malevolent entities loomed large, each ruling over their respective domains. Their immense forms stretched and twisted; their watchful eyes fixed upon realspace. From the realm of Chaos, they observed as their devoted followers wreaked havoc upon the unsuspecting denizens of realspace, spreading their influence and fueling their power.
"MORE BLOOD! MORE SKULLS! SLAUGHTER ALL IN YOUR WAY!" Khorne, the Blood God, bellowed with rage, his booming voice echoing across the realms.
"Ah, the sweet stench of decay. Nurture my gifts, my children! Spread them far and wide!" Nurgle, the Plague Lord, chuckled darkly, his voice filled with a sickening mirth.
"Such intricate schemes and plans unfolding. The chaos is beautiful, ever-changing." Tzeentch, the Changer of Ways, spoke in an enigmatic tone, his voice weaving through the fabric of reality.
"Indulge in your desires! Revel in the ecstasy of your deepest pleasure. Give in to your passion! To your temptation!" Slaanesh, the Prince of Pleasure, purred seductively, a hint of malice in every word.
As the Chaos Gods continued to gloat and revel in the chaos they caused, the realms of realspace trembled under their influence. The followers of each god wreaked havoc in the name of their dark patrons, feeding their power with every act of cruelty, violence, decay, and hedonistic pleasure.
The Great Game they played was eternal, a twisted entertainment of power and deceit that they jealously guarded to ensure its perpetuity. So fiercely did they protect this cosmic contest that Malice was banished from joining their ranks, his presence deemed too unpredictable, disruptive, and destructive for their game.
In the midst of their gloating and revelry, the Chaos Gods were interrupted by a ripple of disturbance in the Warp.
"How pathetic," a new, harsh voice commented as a new Chaos God manifested. A being much like them, and a form that constantly shifted in ways that rivaled Tzeentch's.
"WHO DARES?!" Khorne roared in anger.
"Words of inadequacy?" Tzeentch mocked the newcomer. "Are you seeking to join our Great Game, hm?"
"You speak to Zalgo." The newcomer, Zalgo, sharply answered, undeterred by their mockery. His form extended, angrily rippling the Warp around him. "And I've grown tired of your meaningless cycle. You call yourselves Gods of Chaos, but all you lots are deplorable beings who play with your little miniatures of fools and lesser fragments. You all are blinded and ignorant to the notion that all must come to an end." His words echoed with a dreadful finality. "I shall bring an end to it all."
"You? End our Great Game?" Slaanesh raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Oh! How cute!"
"He must be desperate." Nurgle joined in the laugh. "No followers? No attention? Come to Papa Nurgle. I can share some of mine."
Tzeentch, ever curious, interjected, "Seeking to follow Malice's desire, are you? What is a smudge in the Warp to do, that unravels our game?"
"Malice sought his own path and walked it." Zalgo's eyes glowed with an eerie intensity as he responded to Tzeentch's question, "His work remains incomplete, and I shall carry forth what he could not."
"ENOUGH OF THIS! BEGONE!" Khorne roared and threw a broken blade at Zalgo. The blade violently dissipated him into embers and dark mists upon impact.
"You'll regret that," Zalgo hissed. His form was pulled deeper into the Warp, retreating from the four Chaos Gods. "The end is inevitable. The Great Game will conclude. My Legion shall see to it."
/-/
"So, let me get this straight. You, Zalgo, the embodiment of destruction, insanity, and corruption, transported all of us mere mortals into the Warhammer 40,000 universe, arguably one of the worst universes to live in, just for the sake of destroying reality and ruining the Chaos Gods' Great Game?" asked a snarky orb of light that was once a human from another world. "That just sounds like a loser doxxing a game server because he hates the people playing it!"
"And the only destruction I did was nuking my friend's construct in a video game," added another orb of light. "I'm not a serial killer, soldier, or anything! I've never even gotten into a fight before!"
"Ś̵̳͖͉ì̷̪̚͘ľ̴̜̟͒͝ȩ̴̥̦̍̽͝n̷̮͎̔͊c̵̝̙̿̍͜͝e̷͙̳͕͗͊!̵̡͍̗̂̎̑" Zalgo's thunderous voice resonated, obliterating the two orbs of light across his domain, only to let them reform. "From this moment on, you are all part of my Nezperdian Legion. I have conscripted you from beyond the reaches of this multiverse. Your actions, your capabilities—whether it's to preserve, destroy, or indulge in your own aimless desires or sheer stupidity—all leading to destruction and eventual oblivion." His form encircled the many orbs of light floating in his realm. "Your destructive and chaotic tendencies are precisely what I desire. I care not whether you endorse or oppose me; you will nonetheless bring about destruction. Time is of no consequence; you shall eventually succeed." His body then transformed into that of a towering knight with multiple hands and metallic singing mouths. "My will shall be done, with or without my explicit command. As is this blessing, I shall bestow upon you."
A digital screen materialized within the field of view for all the orbs of light. Upon the digital screen, complex symbols and sigils flickered into existence, forming into legible text.
[Integrating Host...]
[Integration Process Successful.]
[Welcome to the Nezperdian Hivemind System.]
Your consciousness is now interconnected with the vast collective network of the Nezperdian Legion. As a member of this Legion, you have access to a wide array of benefits and opportunities.
[Engage in the Great Game]
- Embrace an unrestricted playstyle of your choice. Form alliances, act independently, or compete against all factions, including the Nezperdian Legion, without facing penalties from the Hivemind System.
- Unleash chaos and destruction upon this reality. Challenge the status quo and strive to bring an end to the Great Game itself.
- Earn points to unlock upgrades, armaments, and various enhancements by eliminating non-associated entities, accomplishing objectives, and causing significant destruction.
[Capabilities Amplified]
- Your abilities have been enhanced, and your physiology is now unrestricted by biological constraints.
- Modify your appearance and abilities to your liking, allowing for alterations, improvements, or removals. Note that high-quality enhancements may require point expenditures.
[Shared Knowledge]
- Access the collective knowledge of your fellow legionnaires, drawing from their experiences and expertise.
- Utilize instantaneous communication, ensuring seamless coordination and strategizing across vast distances.
- Sense the bond that unites you with your fellow Legion members, granting you the ability to identify allies and foes alike.
[More features and benefits will be unlocked as you progress. Your journey in the Great Game begins now.]
"Behold, the Gift of Zalgo! The Nezperdian Hivemind System. Some of you may find it familiar through your many forms of entertainment from your world."
"I've read a lot of light novels and their adaptations to know where this is going." said a newly inducted Nezperdian legionnaire.
"With it, you shall find your abilities amplified, your forms enhanced, and your connection to each other and to me strengthened," Zalgo continued. The symbols on the screen began to rearrange and morph, adapting to the unique characteristics of each orb of light. "You are no longer isolated creatures; you are now one with the forces of destruction. Your minds are linked, your knowledge shared, and your power magnified. I care not for what you choose, and I shall not dictate your actions. Heed the System, or do not. In the end, you all are destruction incarnate, as you always have been."
"May I ask a question, Lord Zalgo?" asked one of his legionnaires.
"Only one," Zalgo growled.
"Aren't you just a creepypasta that's supposed to affect things like comics or books and not reality itself?"
Two fingers from one of Zalgo's many arms appeared and pinched the orb of light, lifting the legionnaire into the air.
"I had humble beginnings and grew beyond it," said Zalgo, then flicked the legionnaire into the others. "N̷̞̔o̶͎͆w̶͙̽ ̴̟̒g̸̙̍ȏ̷̭!̵̬͐ ̸̟̊I̶̗͠ ̵̯̑h̶͎͘a̷̙͆v̷̢̆è̵͜ ̴̝̏r̸͖͛e̵̞̚a̴͇͝l̷̳̑m̴̯̂s̵͓͠ ̴̛̜ẗ̴͙o̴͎͛ ̸̬͐b̸̼͝e̸̛͚.̶̳͘" And with that, Zalgo disappeared, leaving the newly formed Nezperdian Legion in a state of collective silence.
"Wow, what an asshole," muttered one of them, voicing the sentiment that hung in the air.
"I dunno. He was kinda chill with us," said another, unsure of what to make of their enigmatic patron.
"That just happened," someone remarked, still trying to process the whirlwind of events.
"What now?" questioned another, looking for direction amidst the uncertainty.
"Where's the damn Help button in this interface? Oh, there it is," someone exclaimed as they began to navigate through the intricate System.
"Time to form my own Space Marine chapter. Who wants to join me?" announced another, enthusiasm brimming in their voice.
In no time, the Nezperdian Legion, the Players, got to know one another, chattering with excitement and curiosity like old friends catching up. Plans and schemes for their grand endeavors in realspace were hatched and discussed. Their collective voice and laughter echoed through the Warp, signifying that the Nezperdian Legion had come to play its part in the cosmic contest.
/-/
Somewhere on the Pleasure World of Reth, a lone fisherman relaxed on his small boat, his chair reclined comfortably as he listened to soothing classical music on his vox-caster. With his fishing rod securely fastened and the line cast out into the sea, he basked in the warm embrace of the planet's delightful weather, slowly dozing off in the tranquility of his surroundings.
However, his peaceful reverie was abruptly interrupted as his vox-caster started to glitch out, crackling with interference. The fisherman's brow furrowed as he tried adjusting the settings and tapping on the device, but the distortion persisted, growing more intense with each passing moment.
"What in the Emperor's name is going on with this thing?" he muttered to himself.
As the distortion in the vox-caster intensified, a haunting voice emerged from the glitchy transmission.
"Z̷̗͆a̷͓͔̍͝.̵͔̗̯̊͊͆.̶̤͖́.̵̱̔͆ ̵͖͆͒Ĥ̶̫̍͆ͅẽ̸̼͈̠.̸̤̦̺͗̾.̸̯̤̉.̵̡̘̦̃ ̶͇͖̌̑̎ç̶͓̪͠ò̴̟͕m̶̩̔͂.̶̥̓̓́.̴̳̗́.̸̧͝" The words were disjointed and incomplete, barely audible amidst the crackling interference.
The fisherman frowned and strained his ears to make sense of the message.
"Ẓ̴̔a̸̯̬͛̅ḻ̶̛̼́̀g̴̗͖̪̔̀.̶͙͂̍̃.̷̘̾̐.̶̫̫̤̈́͗ ̷̪͉͙͐͛͝H̴̩̩̓ę̷̟̞̀̓…̶̜͗͠ ̸̪͉̋͌ȫ̶͕͔m̴̈́͜͝e̸̻͊͐s̴͕̀͝…̵̺͊" the voice repeated, now slightly clearer but still riddled with glitches.
The fisherman's mind throbbed with pain as the glitchy sound sharply pierced his thoughts. He clutched his head, trying to block out the disturbing voice, but it seemed to echo in his mind, growing louder and more insistent.
"Z̷̛̠̭̣̰͊̈̊ą̶̢̤̱͍̻̅̔̊̀l̶̤̥̩̍g̴̛̦̰̖̫͌͑ͅơ̶̫͈͚̰͍̼̻̾̄…̴̢̼̈́͋̇ ̶̛̪̝̫̞̣͈̘̘̋̕Ḩ̷̘̰̞́́̈́͛͛̕ẻ̵̂̽̄͆̍̿̈́ͅ ̵̧̨̦̬̝̣̮́̈́̓̂͌̔ͅc̵̳̰̽̃͘̕̕ọ̷͛̋̏m̷̛͇̯̋̔͊̄̒͂͝e̶̖̽s̸̢̖̲͔̋̊̃͜…̶̞̩̘͋͋͆͜" the voice repeated once more, and this time, the distortion began to take its toll on the fisherman's body.
He staggered back, his movements becoming erratic as he felt an overwhelming sense of dread. His body started to warp and contort, his limbs twisting in unnatural ways, his skin turning sickly pale.
"Z̷̨̲̺̟͍̿͂͐̅͆̈́̈́̒̂̆a̵̞̜̞̝͑̎̾̇͑͛̎͋̉̕l̵̡̛̦̜͙̮̬͈͙̫͓͇̮̻̓̎͒͑̔̓͑͂̄̔̏̒ͅǵ̴̨̟̝̻̣͉̯̻͉̤͇̭̠͕̀̄̂͗̕͠o̵̢̨̬͍̪͉͎̟͓̞̝̻̝͇͐̈́͒͊̾̎̿̃̐͗̕͝.̶̡͚̖̺̬̘̣͇͓̠̙̰̜͔̳͂̕͜ͅ ̸̤͙͙͈̈́̈́Ḫ̵̡̛̛̬̼̪̥̠̦͓̘̯̩̼͉͑͊͗͗̽͊̀̂̂̃̊͘͝͠e̵̩̬̥̠̦͕̝͈̰͇̅͑͂̉͐͊̾̀̓͜ ̶̛̣̲͂ċ̵̡̜̭̟̪̲̓̍̈̕͝o̵̧̬̯̝̤͚̥̰̣͍̞̥͔̩̟̪͊̄͌m̸̞͕̰̬̠̩̳̣̽́͛̆̆̃̀̈́̚ę̷̧̜͔̣̗̬͕̫͕̈́̏̄̓͊̇͐͑̂̑̇͛̊͝s̸̨̹̲̬̼͓̟̤̰̹͇̯̆͒̕͜ͅ.̸̙͖̪͔̟͙̙̳̠́̿̂͗̊́͒͐͊̉̕" the voice echoed, now louder and clearer, resonating deep within the fisherman's being.
He fell to his knees, unable to withstand the immense unholy power broadcasting from the transmission. His mind and body felt as if they were being torn apart from the inside out. And then, it happened. The fisherman's body split open, undergoing a grotesque transformation of flesh and bone. In his corrupted state, he mindlessly repeated the glitchy message, his voice joining the eerie chorus that emanated from the vox-caster.
"Z̶̢̻̠̩̓̾̾̓̀̐̕͠a̴͉̳̲͊̓͗̅̓̚l̶͓̈́̌͗̉́̀͒̓̈́͑͝g̸̤͆o̶̯͙̻̟͔̤͍̻̼͎͈̫̘̝̽̀̒͑̽̐͛̔̀̓͑͗̿̏̕.̵͉̺̤̗͉̞̮̯̯̺̋̈́̄͑̏̍͝ͅͅ ̵̦̼͚̗̦̂̐̒̇͋͆̊̑̇̔̋H̶̡͙̻̣͖͉͉̤̊̉͆̚ȩ̴̭̙͚͔̭̥͈͚̝͓̖̠̗̥̈́͂̚ ̷͍̝̗͕̏ć̵̙̞̯̈́̓̍̃̑͝͠ō̵̲͖̜̙̃̊̏͆͠m̴̛̗̭̘̤͒̊̆̿̆ͅȩ̵̛̫͑̔͗̈̍̃͆̿̋̔͋́̈́̆͆s̷̙̦̣̙̯̦̭͛̏̈́̈̿̀̓.̶̡̙̠͇̺̃" the fisherman's distorted voice echoed, blending with the unholy transmission, a vessel of chaos and corruption.
As the distorted and tainted sound ripped through the air, a tear in the fabric of reality materialized, forming a malevolent connection to the Warp. Two figures were forcefully pulled through into realspace. One appeared to be a regular human young man, sporting sunglasses, dressed in casual clothing, sturdy boots, and a flak vest, while wielding an unfamiliar variant of the lasgun. The second figure was a xeno known as an unggoy, or grunt from the Halo series, adorned in their typical armor and armed with their characteristic weaponry.
"Oh shit, Gram. I didn't realize how big grunts are," the sunglasses-wearing human remarked, taking in the xeno's size as they materialized.
"Yeah, the Spartans are usually taller than average, so these guys look small in comparison," Gram, the Nezperdian legionnaire in the form of an unggoy, replied. "Seriously, Rayban? Going for the economical look? There were other options that didn't cost anything or were cheaper," pointing out his companion's disappointing choice of gear. "You look like a tourist who stole a vest and a gun."
"Don't judge me," Rayban retorted playfully, diverting his attention to the former fisherman now turned terrifying and mindless daemon, barely resembling its former self. "Ew... So, this thing is a Zalgonite?"
"That's the name we managed to agree on. It was either that or call it a lesser chaos spawn since it technically fits," Gram noted, surveying their surroundings and groaned. "We're on a freaking small boat in the middle of the sea, not the great spawn point unless we're aquatic or have some transportation."
"We could move the boat and set up a new spawn point," suggested Rayban.
"I don't know how to drive a boat, and I have no idea where we should be going," Gram sighed, eyeing the Zalgonite as it drooled black liquid from its many mouths. "But maybe we can command this guy to steer the boat? Anyway, let's get back in touch with the others and update them on our situation." He waddled over to the vox-caster and contacted their fellow legionnaires. "Hey, our spawn point is on a tiny boat in the middle of nowhere, so don't come. We'll move the boat closer to land or something, and then you guys can spawn here."
"Don't come," a voice snickered through the vox-caster, making a double entendre. "Came too early?"
Gram rolled his eyes, while Rayban snorted in amusement. Juvenile humor never gets old for many and is very old for some.
"You've been warned," Gram said, ending the communication. "Okay, let's get set up."
"Right, so we open the editor or something for this guy and modify them?" Rayban opened the Zalgonite's status window.
[Zalgonite (1) - Status Window]
FACTION: Nezperdian Legion, Zalgo
TYPE: Pseudo-Warp, Chaos, Daemon
PHYSICAL RESILIENCE: 7/10
SPECIAL RESILIENCE: 8/10
MAX MOVEMENT: 19 m/s
WEAPON:
Chaotic Mutations: Inflicts random amounts of damage and effects with its unnatural physiques. Mutations can range from corrosive projectiles to energy-based attacks.
ABILITIES:
To Oblivion and Beyond: The closer this unit is to death, the greater its physical and special attributes become.
Chaotic Regeneration: Capable of self-regeneration over time, depending on the level of damage sustained. Regeneration may result in further mutations that either increase or decrease specific or general attributes.
Mindless Ferocity: In battle, the Zalgonite becomes more aggressive and relentless, gaining enhanced physical attributes as it endures through combat, making it difficult to control.
Daemonic Terror (Aura): Emits an aura of fear and chaos around itself, causing nearby enemies to experience mental anguish and decreased combat efficiency.
[Open Editor] [Vend]
"I think there's some sort of option to undo the changes to a degree."
"Yup, there is. But it says it doesn't undo the corruption, might change a few attributes, and any unallocated attributes get randomly put somewhere else," Rayban read through the editor, then made his selection. "Okay, let's see how this works."
With a surge of otherworldly forces, the Zalgonite began to crumple and contort, undergoing a disturbing transformation back to his original form as the fisherman. Bones snapped, skin bubbled and popped, clothes reformed, and he convulsed with each change. When the transformation was finished, the fisherman was standing there, but there was something off about him. His once vibrant eyes were now pitch-black, and black fluid dribbled from his mouth and eyes. Despite his uncanny appearance, the Zalgonite remained eerily calm, awaiting orders from his masters.
"That sounded painful," Gram commented, but he didn't look fazed, having grown accustomed to the cursed avatars and creations they've made.
Rayban shrugged, "Well, he's ready for action now, I guess. Let's get this show on the road." He turned to the corrupted fisherman. "Get us closer to the shores."
The Zalgonite nodded and walked towards the steering wheel, his steps unnaturally silent as he started the engine. As the boat began to drift across the tranquil sea, the other Nezperdian legionnaires - the Players, had already made their incursion upon the planet. Their presence sending ripples of chaos, and the once peaceful Pleasure World of Reth would soon be plunged into a nightmarish hellscape.
/-/
"Target their legs!"
A squad of storm troopers focused their fire on the disfigured legs of the daemonic vanguards, using their hot-shot lasguns to inflict enough damage to make the first line trip and fall. The collapse of the vanguard impaired the horde's movement behind them, and their chaotic physical forms made it difficult for the other daemons and heretics to push forward.
"Frag out!" one of the troopers shouted and hurled a frag grenade into the impeded horde.
A deafening explosion ruptured the narrow hallway, sending concussive shockwaves and fragments into the horde. Although it seemed to do little to impede the endless stream of their foul enemies as they continued to push and clamber over each other, determined to breach a facility that housed the Inquisition's precious assets. This facility was operated by the Orders Hospitaller of the Adepta Sororitas and further guarded by a special detachment of Inquisitorial Storm Troopers, an ancient charter serving as their foundation. It must not fall into daemonic hands!
The defenders fought back with fervor against the daemonic tide, bearing the brunt of the attacks while the Orders Hospitallers provided combat support and medical aid to those in need. Their discipline, training, and unwavering devotion to the Emperor and the Imperium violently clashed against the unspeakable terrors.
"The Lord Inquisitor is within this sector! Reinforcements will arrive soon! We must hold the line!" Shouted a storm trooper, his voice fierce and determined.
"The Emperor smiles upon us!" praised a Sister Hospitaller, her unwavering faith evident in her soothing words as she tended to a wounded trooper. "Stay strong, brothers and sisters! The Emperor's light guide us!"
The corridors echoed with the cacophony of war, the stench of filth and blood filling the air. As the enemy closed in, the defenders found solace in their shared faith and duty to the Emperor, knowing that even in the face of such horrors, they would not falter. Their courage and determination became a beacon of resistance against the face of the Immaterium's malevolence.
"Scatter!" someone shouted as a shimmering orb soared towards them.
The storm troopers and the sisters' training kicked in, and they quickly spread out, taking cover behind pillars and barricades. The shimmering orb exploded, releasing clusters of smaller orbs that detonated plasma in all directions, incinerating several defenders caught in the blast.
"We flushed them out! Go, go! Rush them, rush them!" The defenders could hear someone yelling at the daemonic forces in a foreign tongue, likely their leader.
"Chaaarge!" roared an eager heretic.
A collective war cry reverberated through the air, and the defender's position began to tremble from the onslaught of the Emperor's enemies.
"Emperor protect us!" another trooper hissed as a wave of daemonic creatures surged forward, their unnatural forms unsettling to even the most seasoned soldiers.
The daemonic tide crashed through the first line of defense, exchanging firefights with the defenders and cutting down anyone who dared engage them in melee.
"Wretched heretic! Die!" A Sister Hospitaller rushed at a heretical Planetary Defence Force soldier whose eyes were pitch black and leaking black fluid.
The heretic raised his autogun and fired at the sister, only able to land a few shots that bounced off her carapace armor before she struck a heavy blow against the heretic, sending him staggering back. He snarled at her and swung the butt of his autogun at her, only for the sister to counter it and stab the heretic through the skull with her knife. Such an attack would have killed a living creature, but this fallen man was no longer part of the living, gnashing his teeth and pushing her back with inhuman strength.
As the two struggled, a daemon blindly charged at the sister, its grotesque form lunging forward with malevolent intent. Reacting with remarkable agility, the Sister Hospitaller swiftly sidestepped the incoming abomination, using the heretic she had just dispatched as an impromptu projectile. With a powerful kick, she sent the fallen heretic hurtling through the air, colliding with the daemon's twisted frame.
The daemon, devoid of concern for its fellow heretic, plowed through him without hesitation. Its myriad of deadly appendages reached out to rip apart the valiant sister, but before it could lay a claw on her, a concentrated fire from hot-shot lasguns rained upon the abomination. The storm troopers unleashed a relentless barrage of shots at the creature, tearing into its monstrous form. The daemon stumbled, its limbs mangled and bleeding black ichor. However, it still pressed on, seemingly impervious to pain.
"By the Emperor's will, die foul abomination!" A storm trooper shouted, reloading his weapon and firing again, determined to bring down the creature.
The others joined in, pouring firepower into the daemon until it finally collapsed to the ground, its monstrous form crumbling apart.
"Not harmed, are you sister?" Asked an accompanying Hospitaller as they moved back.
"Nay! The Emperor's protection is upon me!" the sister replied, her voice unwavering despite the harrowing encounter. "But there are more of these abominations to vanquish. We must stand firm and hold the line!"
"Well said," grunted a storm trooper. "This line is lost, fall back to the second... Incoming!"
Another shimmering orb was fired at their general location, and this time they could not move out of the way in time. A fiery and colorful burst of plasma peppered the surroundings in a wide, irregular radius, vaporizing the entire squad. Among the smoking residue, an irritated-looking Player stepped onto the scene of his kills. He reloaded his plasma grenade launcher and tilted his head slightly to communicate with his allies.
"Hey, can I get some help over here? They're putting up a lot of resistance, and our fodder is dropping very quickly. I think they have some heavy weaponry further down this place." He casually continued walking through the fighting, peeked his head around a corner, and quickly ducked back as a laser beam narrowly missed his head. "Fuck! I need help flushing these guys out! Going for a secondary objective."
[Mission]
Primary Objective:
Obliterate the planet Reth.
- Reward Points: 8000 (Awarded to all legionnaires upon completion)
Secondary Objectives:
Eliminate important figures of the Imperium of Man.
- Reward Points: 400 (Awarded to those who execute this objective)
- Reward Points: 200 (Awarded to those who assist in the execution of this objective)
Destroy research data and assets of the Imperium of Man.
- Reward Points: 500 (Awarded to those who execute this objective)
- Reward Points: 250 (Awarded to those who assist in the execution of this objective)