"Glad you're not fainting."

"You know the history of my people Tangmo, I have seen a lot worse."

"You're about to find out what worse mean."

Lady Galadriel huffed dismissively, although Tangmo was able to detect a hint of uncertainty in her tone. Tangmo can't blame her, for all the crazy shit that went down in the Legendarium, and there were many, the cruelty of the Dark Lords doesn't hold a candle to the eldritch horror of the Ruinous Power. Case and point the heads dangling from the Chaos banner, all of which were gruesomely mutilated, done for the sake of mad appeasement to the dreaded Empyrean.

"Let us not linger in this place any longer," Galadriel spun on her heels and walked pass Lita and Erik, effectively taking lead. The sight would've been very stirring if the Lady of Lothlorien didn't suddenly skid to a stop. "By Eru!"

Looks like the banner wasn't the only decoration the heretics left behind, and not the most grisly either. Directly to the right of the Thunderhawk was a wide battered road that would've been busy with traffic in better days, now rotting corpses littered the grey tarmac in great splatters and swathes of blackened gore, and lining the highway like the ending of a Kurt Douglas film were crucified bodies nailed to spiked wheels raised ten feet off the ground. Galadriel gathered her wits quick enough and stood up straight, but it was clear she found the sight disturbing in the extreme, if the slight widening of the eyes was anything to go by. For the Eight, it was a Tuesday.

"Damn, talk about creative bankruptcy," Nikki snorted at the gruesome scene. "I mean, shit, how many times have we seen this sorta crap? I was spooked the first ten times but goddamn, now this is just lame."

"Well, not everybody can be a maestro of the macabre like the Night Lords, and I don't think a buncha mining hicks have the free time for artistic pursue," Henry's face scrunched up in distaste at the trite presentation. "But yeah, the novelty is more or less gone."

"Innocents are crucified," Galadriel rounded on the Eight, her piercing glared revealed nothing but incredulity, the intensity quailing Nikki and Henry, "and you jest?"

"Innocents my ass, they're fucking cultists, as evident by the copious amount of self-inflicted mutilations and shitty tattoos," Tangmo braved Galadriel's consternation and pointed at the aforementioned messy details visible through the blood and grime. The Thai commissar tilted his head to the side then, eyes narrowed inquisitively. "Wait a goddamn minute – hey!"

Tangmo launched a straight Muay Thai kick at the pole, the groan of swaying iron was drowned out by the shrilly squawk of the burly man nailed at the top. Heaving great panicky breaths, the man snapped his head left and right with such speed that Tangmo thought he was gonna decapitate himself, the muscles of his arms and legs straining against the metals pinning him to the wheel. After about half a minute of struggle his bloodshot eyes alighted on the Eight, burning hatred replacing bestial panic.

"Slaves of the corpse god, and xenos," the man, a miner in all likelihood, hissed, blood misted his words and dripped down his chin in slow rivulet. "I'll kill all of you!"

"Good luck with that you dumb bastard," Tangmo chuckled and the Eight laughed aloud, the only person not amused was Galadriel. "I thought Khorne was supposed to be a tough son of a bitch, yet his warriors got strung up like a buncha pussies, speaks volume about him doesn't it?"

"I will drink your blood!" The pole and the wheel might have looked flimsy but the miner was unable to break free of his bondage, crucifixion have a way of draining one's energy.

"Sure you will," Tangmo rolled his eyes then glanced down the highway where more gruesome banners of flesh and iron stretched away until the land dipped out of sight. "Since you're gonna die anyway, mind telling us what the fuck happened here? Wait, let me guess, you dickheads turned on each other when there were no more loyalist to kill, right?"

"We were stabbed in the back! Those cowardly fucks attacked us when our guards were down, they fight without honor!" The miner spewed the usual bullshit excuse when finding oneself on the wrong side of natural selection, but his anger dissipated quickly and was replaced by curdling laughter. "But the scums will never win, no, not after they've arrived on this planet."

"That's one thing we can agree on," Tangmo traded high five with Yuki and Erik, shit eating grin plastered across his face. "The Immortal Spirit battlegroup is here and all your life expectancy are now measured in minutes, have fun."

"No, not you servant of the Carrion Lord," the miner bared his teeth in a grisly smile, "as I was being punished for my weakness a sorcerer appeared, clad in armor of black and accompanied by snarling creatures of brimstone and blood. The savagery they unleashed sent the cowards scurrying into the pit and the slum."

"Guess we know where Sauron is," Tangmo traded looks with Galadriel the same moment a series of explosion resounded from down the highway, pluming pillars of fiery dust rising to mar the sky. "And they're still fighting apparently. Yo, how about we go say hello to the multiverse most famous Dark Lord?"

"We need to help him," Galadriel took a step toward the crucified miner, her bout of compassion was reciprocated with frothing curses. "Regardless of his allegiance he requires our assistance, all souls can be corrupted and can be saved. Please help me…!"

Lady Galadriel came from a universe that fought war with swords and spears and bows, therefore it was unsurprising that she failed to react when Yuki raised her P90 eldar submachine gun at the crucified miner and headshot him with a single shuriken. First came bafflement, Galadriel blinking at the miner hanging slack from the wheel with a gaping hole on his head, then purest anger as she spun to face Yuki, the Japanese exarch was blowing at the smoking barrel.

"I did you a favor," Yuki met Galadriel's glare with a stoic gaze of her own. "He'll lunge at you at the first opportunity."

"You do not know that," Galadriel hissed, the hand in which she wielded the ring Nenya was balled into a fist.

"Yes I do," it was Yuki's sharp response, the tone brokering no argument, that stopped Galadriel from voicing more outrage. When the elven woman unclenched her hand and calmed her posture, Yuki sighed apologetically and said, "I've seen many people within the battlegroup, humans and eldars both, let sentimentality override their instinct. Chaos Cultist only cares for one thing and that's the destruction of their enemies, and they will use very available avenue to do so. Good men and women have died thinking these wretches can be saved, I will not allow you to make that mistake."

Tangmo got a little worried that Galadriel would behave irrationally, ala that doppelgänger from the Amazon series, because characters from the Lord of the Rings universe were famous for their unbent stance on the morality of good and evil. Bracing himself for a very passionate explosion of righteous rhetoric, Tangmo was startled when Galadriel exhaled heavily, closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"As much as I hate to admit it, your assessment is a correct one Yuki, I'm sorry if I've allowed passion to steer my judgement," Galadriel bowed and Yuki reciprocated with heart, her torso dipping so low she almost kissed her knees. A darkness came over Galadriel's visage as she spared the dead miner a brief glance before turning away. "Yes…there are times when dark deeds must be done lest we condemn the innocent to suffer for our folly. Valinor have had many painful lessons in recent days."

"Okay…good to know," Damien swept his helmed head slowly across the Eight, trading concern looks with them, then fixed his trajectory down the highway. He was about to take a single step when he stopped suddenly and started tapping the data-pad built into his armguard. "Oh shit, I almost forgot, can't be too careful in this kind of neighborhood!"

The robotic high-pitched alarm synonymous with modern Toyota and Honda blared from the Thunderhawk, this was followed by the ramp swinging shut with a concussive bang and every auxiliary gun getting activated, the barrels roaming the immediate area menacingly.

"Did you fucking seriously installed a car alarm on a fucking Thunderhawk?!" Henry asked incredulously, because despite the comedic effect, the venerated troop transport of the Adeptus Astartes deserved a lot better than a squeaky alarm. "It's not a pickup truck bro!"

"Doesn't make it any less funny," Damien shrugged and shouldered his bolter, the fighting ahead was growing in intensity judging by the increased volume. "Also, I install the same thing on the Stormbird."

Henry was about to make more scathing comment when the Thunderhawk's topmost turret swung its double barrel autocannon at a cluster of rundown buildings on the left and let loose a burst. The rows of flimsy irons and woods flew skyward on rolling balls of fire, the pounding explosions punctured by howling pain of the would-be looters, all of whom having since been deleted from existence.

"At least the guns are working optimally," Tangmo jogged toward the miner's delipidated homes and waved for his friends and Galadriel to follow. "I don't know about you guys, but walking straight into a melee doesn't sound like a good tactic to me."

"Tangmo's right, stay low and keep your eyes peel people, the living quarter sure as fuck ain't empty. Kill anything that moves," with as much gentleness she can muster Laura grabbed Galadriel's arm, drew her close, and pulled her down until she was stooped lower than the rest of the Eight. "I need you to keep your head low my lady, lasers and bullets are faster than arrows…and where the bloody hell is your dildo helmet?!"

"Stop freaking out Laura, I already took care of that, see the hazy force field around her head? Yeah, that'll stop everything beside a direct hit from a bolt," now that Lita had mentioned it Tangmo was able to see the transparent shield, funnily enough it was shaped like an astronaut helmet. "But do try not to get shot lady Galadriel, because it still gonna give you a massive headache."

"Not like she's gonna get targeted anyway," Damien proudly stabbed a thumb at himself, the Canadian Ultramarine towering above all of them. "Logic dictates that they'll aim for the biggest motherfucker in the group, and that's me!"

"No plan survives first contact," Nikki made her solemn input, adjusted the scope of her Aeldari sniper rifle, and offered Galadriel an icy gaze. "Therefore, I would ask that you follow Laura's instruction and stay out of the crossfire, we're not taking any chances."

Galadriel nodded sternly in response, very much pleased with the Eight very meticulous approach to war, and without a word of complaint followed the gang into the slum. Having traversed similar urban decay many times over, Tangmo had no problem navigating the claustrophobic labyrinthine manifestation of poverty and hopelessness, nothing but discarded pieces of rubbish and fallen construction material littered their path. After several uneventful minutes the Eight and Galadriel came upon a toppled hovel with corpses strewed around it.

"Wait a fucking minute, is that…"

"Yes, it is."

Galadriel finished Tangmo's sentence as she shouldered passed him, coming to stand over one particular dead body. Skin the hue of tar, blistered and ridged with scars from a lifetime of unending violence, ears pointed in a parody of elven kind with snout like noses and jagged needle sharp teeth, it was a species Tangmo never thought he would see in the 40k universe. An orc, a genuine orc from the Lord of the Rings universe. There were a lot of them too, because he counted about twenty orc corpses amidst four dead Khornate heretics, the fight was brief but brutal.

"Orcs," Galadriel hissed with such palpable disdain that Tangmo thought she was gonna spit at the unmoving cadaver. "Of the Mordor breed."

"Wait, there's more than one type of orc?" Yuki asked, earnest in her curiosity, Galadriel answering with a sharp nod. "Cool, the more you know. So are these guys more dangerous than the rest or something?"

"The most common and most numerous of Morgoth's host," Galadriel went on. "I would be remiss not to acknowledge that they had grown more troublesome in recent days."

"Not immune to las and bullets though," Henry made his circuit across the short-lived battlefield, peering closer at a particular orc whose armor was riddled with holes.

"Aren't they supposed to be cowards who turn tail the moment things get difficult?" Erik put forward his question, none of the slain orcs had fled, the fallen posture clearly indicating that they all charged the heretics. "They went down fighting."

"They probably didn't know any better," Lita made her observation and waved her Singing Spear at the Khornate warriors. "There were no swords and shields at play here, no grand blasts of horns to announce a charge, just flashes of light. The orcs probably thought the heretics were trying to wave them off with flashlights."

"Whatever the case maybe I'm just glad they're killing each other, makes our job that much easier," Damien's statement was interrupted by a resounding roar, earthshattering in its cacophony, joining with the savage howls of fighting beyond. "Oh you got to be fucking shitting me."

"That does sound very bestial," Galadriel cringed visibly at the obnoxiously loud WAAAGGHHH. "The similarity to an orc war cry is uncanny."

"Because that's our orks," Tangmo attached the bayonet to his lasgun and waved for the Eight to follow. "Let's get over there before things spiral out of control. We can talk and run in the meantime."

Although conventional wisdom demands that one stay away from places of violence, the Eight and Galadriel ignored this tidbit as they headed deeper into the slum, the roaring cadence rising in octave with every step they took. Tangmo muttered a slew of Thai curses when after a few minutes the ramshackle homes and rundown buildings lessened in number, flattened to burning debris by recent battles.

"Oi! Get off me you gits!" Strangely enough, given how crazy this crossover was developing, Tangmo found the ork's broken English to be a comforting normalcy. He was waving the gang to slow down when a house down the road exploded, and stumbling out of the dust came a large ork boyz, his gigantic choppa flailing madly in great swooping arches. And clinging to the ork, outnumbering him fifteen to one, were Mordor orcs, screeching and stabbing at their larger cousin from another universe. "You annoying grots, quit with the stabbing! I'm gonna stomp all your guts out and tear you to pieces!"

"Kill him! Kill, kill, kill!" What the hell, how can an ork be more eloquent than an orc? "Skewer him good like a pig!"

A squealing orc of small stature gave a triumphant cackle when the jagged blade of his sword slid in between the ork's breastplate and belt, successfully sinking six inches of metal into the side of his green counterpart. The Mordor moron probably thought he'd just scored himself a great kill, instead the disciple of Gork and Mork snapped his head down at the puny being that had dared to strike his better, the jubilant squawking devolved into cry of distress when he was hit with a powerful orkish roar. The choppa was a blur as it careened down and bisected the orc in two, the flapping pieces cartwheeled across the ground in a cascade of gore. Pissed off beyond imagining, the ork fell on the surrounding orcs with psychotic fury, slashing choppa painted the air with sundered bodies and twitching limbs while metal studded boots punted and crushed those unlucky enough to be within kicking range. Out of the corner of his eyes Tangmo caught Galadriel gasping at the unleashed brutality, hand covering mouth in disbelief. Brutal being the keyword here, because it took about two minutes for the LOTR orcs to be slaughtered, the last one got his head chewed off by the 40k ork.

"Tasty?" Damien sauntered up to the ork, bolter pointed forward, Galadriel sidling up behind the Canadian Ultramarine.

"Huh?" The ork turned to face them, and up close Tangmo saw how badly the dude got mauled. Holy shit the ork must be leaking gallons of blood from the dozen gapping wounds on his body, not to mention one of his arms was hanging limply. In true orkish fashion, the jolly green bastard didn't give a fuck about his injuries and started laughing at the sight of the Astartes. "Was wondering when I'm gonna get to fight you Space Marine boys, this is my lucky day!"

"Congratulation," Damien deadpanned and pulled the trigger, the ork's smiley face exploding in a mist of red gore, the headless body stood upright for a moment before tilting backward. The Canadian Marine shouldered his bolter and swept the barrel across the slum. "No sign of his buddies, probably got separated."

"Hence the reason why he got jumped," Lita went to stand over the dead ork, taking in the many wounds inflicted. "I didn't expect the orcs to fight this well."

"Now I'm interested to see how a clash between armies would go, shit sounds really dope over yonder," Henry took the lead and headed straight for where the fighting was loudest. "And a triple threat too, now that's a fucking treat."

"Although I don't share your enthusiasm, I agree that we need to get closer – argh!" Tangmo went cold when Galadriel suddenly doubled over, falling to her knees with both hands braced against the red tinged ground, heaving one pained breath after another. For a moment he thought some Chaos cultist got a drop on the Lady of Lothlorien, but there were no visible injuries when Yuki and Laura helped her back up. "He's…he's here."

"You mean Sauron?" Tangmo asked and Galadriel nodded. "Yeah, you kinda told us already."

"That's not what I meant!" Galadriel snapped and half stagger half run until she was catching up with the flabbergasted Henry, soon enough she found her footing and was sprinting down the suddenly sloping terrain, her physical pedigree coming to the forefront as the Eight hurried to catch up. "Sauron is using his power like when he did in Mandos's hall, he's trying to open a portal to escape!"

"Shit woman, how about you start with that next time?!" Tangmo blurted and left Galadriel in the dust as he sped through the thankfully depopulated slum, almost catching up with Damien who was crashing through the buildings as opposed to following the snaking paths. After demolishing a pathetic single story box masquerading as a house, Damien slid to a stop and reached his hand out to bar Tangmo, stopping the Thai commissar with an audible oof. "Ow – thanks man."

"Don't mention it," Damien lowered his hand as the rest of the Eight and Galadriel joined them, then pointed his finger at the kaleidoscopic scene unfolding before them. "Wouldn't want you diving head first into that."

"I wholeheartedly agree," Tangmo adjusted his eschewed awesome commissar cap and glanced downward, whistling at the battle raging below. In all his years killing shit and taking names, this was the first time Tangmo got to see a fantasy horde going toe to toe with a science fiction mob. Shockingly the LOTR orcs outnumbered both the Chaos cultists and the newly arrived orks, the latter two were isolated into dozens of separated groups while the former crashed into them like a merciless vengeful tide. Flashes of lasers and bullets and bolts scythed into the maddened Mordor host, but the momentum and speed were unbroken as the spawns of Morgoth collided into the heretics and xenos in a cacophonic surf of scintillating red ichor.

"Holy fucking shit," Henry appeared beside Tangmo, eyes wide in astonishment. "Lord of the Rings vs Warhammer 40k…and are the orcs actually kicking the heretic's asses?! What the fuck is going on?!"

"I mean, besides having guns and lasers cultists aren't exactly good at their job, even when blessed by Khorne," Nikki shrugged then turned to Galadriel, the elven lady was not at all disturbed by the ongoing battle. "I thought you said there were fifty thousand, this look more like a hundred thousand."

"Perhaps our calculation was wrong, but that is not the most pressing issue – ah!" Galadriel ducked when a rocket, quite possibly fired by an ork boyz, soared over their heads. The Eight paid the projectile no mind as it made several loops before crashing to the ground a good distant away. Rising slowly to her feet, Galadriel adjusted her Guardian armor and continued. "We need to get down there and find Sauron."

"Well would you look at that, a conveniently placed elevator that descend to the bottom of the mine," Lita smirked and walked easily to the aforementioned open air square platform, the only preventive measure against falling off were rusty waist high rails that ran the length of the four corners. Fingers dancing swiftly over the console, Lita stepped on the elevator and waved at the Eight and Galadriel, "the power is still working, let's go!"

Within heartbeats all of them were standing on the lift, and after summoning a transparent shield around the entire platform Lita pressed the big down arrow button. The machine came to life with the rumbling roar of awakened motors and squeal of grinding cogs and wheels. The elevator started off at a crawl but quickly assumed a pleasant satisfactory speed, quick but slow enough for them to appreciate the view passing by.

"Damn, reminds me of that Gojira Evangelion ride at the Universal Studio. This is a million time more immersive though," Yuki observed with a grin as bullets and las pinged off Lita's shield, several of the heretics and orks had noticed the descending elevator but were unable to bring their full firepower to bear courtesy of the orcs. "Actually, this feels more like a cutscene…wasn't there that one awesome Lord of the Rings game that came out decades ago, the one where you can fight orcs indefinitely?"

"Return of the King," Henry nodded, his face aglow with rosy nostalgia. "Must've spent hours in that one spot."

"Honestly, this gives me a Space Marines 2 vibe more than anything," Damien tilted his head up thoughtfully. "Say, shouldn't Titus, Gadriel and Chairon be alive right now?"

"Holy shit, you're fucking right," Tangmo and Damien traded fist bump, they've just passed the half way mark. "Maybe after this we can contact the Ultramarine fleet, if we're lucky we might get to fight alongside them…"

"Sauron! He's over there!"

Oh right, they were here on an important pan multiverse mission. Assuming his serious persona, Tangmo shouldered his lasgun and fixed his gaze forward, and honestly can't decide whether to start geeking out or shit his pants. At the center of the raging battlefield was a spot of calm, an eye of the storm if you will, the clearing was ringed by a tight phalanx of pike wielding Uruk-Hai, unyielding and fearless even when bursts of gunfire tore them apart. But this detail paled in comparison to the ominous figure standing at the epicenter of the unfolding calamity. Clad in metallic armor of deepest ebon, every ridge and angle and corner honed so sharp that he appeared made of swords and thorns, was none other than the most famous bad guy in the history of fantasy fiction, Sauron. The Dark Lord of Mordor was currently without his trademark spikey helm, his lustrous reddish gold hair aflutter as he held his dark gauntleted hand out at the shimmering empty air.

"Wait a damn minute," Nikki trained her Aeldari sniper rifle at Sauron, eye pressed to the scope. "Is that the One Ring he's wearing?!"

"No, it is not, just an imitation," the Eight let out a collective breath of relief when Galadriel spoke up. "Nevertheless, the device possesses great power, not on the same caliber as the dreaded Ring but enough to be a genuine threat."

"She-elf," a rumbling velvety voice echoed across the open mine, the acoustic anomaly causing the heretics and orks to look up at the sky in confusion, the orcs quickly exploited this lapse of attention and renewed their assault on the denizen of 40k with vigor. "I did not expect you to be here."

"You cannot escape me betrayer of Ilúvatar, breaker of oath, blighted necromancer," Galadriel matched volume with Sauron, the ring Nenya glowing fiercely on her finger. "For I shall not let you escape, you will return what you have stolen!"

"Come to witness another failure then?" Sauron belted out an admittedly awesome maniacal laugh, the mockery causing Galadriel's façade of control to slip and reveal the anger boiling beneath. "You have travel so far only to come and bask in my triumph again. Gaze upon me and despair, elf queen, for the souls of your kin belongs to Morgoth now!"

The shimmering haze before Sauron started tearing apart, not that dissimilar to when Elizabeth DeWitt used her power, and with a mighty roar the Dark Lord brought forth a black laceration in space and time. It was a godly display of power, fitting for a traitorous Maiar, but even from this distant Tangmo can tell that the escape portal was not cooperating. Looks like Master was lending a helping hand again, much to Sauron's frustration as was evident by his rigid posture.

"We need to stop him!" Galadriel declared the same moment the elevator reached the ground, the heretics who were hunkered behind nearby flimsy barricades spun around and opened fire, the bullets and las proved utterly ineffective against Lita's shield.

"Say no more lady Galadriel," Damien took his place at the front and made a show of rolling his shoulders, the heretic's enthusiastic gunfire stuttered and died when they beheld the God Emperor's Angel of Death. "Lita, clear us a path please."

"How are we doing this exactly?" Lita asked, her Singing Spear glowing to such brightness that some of the Chaos cultists started running away in fear. "Cautious or fast?"

"Judging by how Sauron's portal is steadily getting bigger, we gotta go fast," Tangmo braced his legs, traded firm nods with the Eight, then turned to Lita. "Let's fucking go."

The attack begins not with great litany of vengeance or bombastic roar of bloody exaltation, but a sharp snap of Lita's fingers. With that small gesture the Mexican Warseer unleashed a blast of invisible Aeldari kinetic magic that leveled the immediate vicinity. Broken bodies of heretics were launched into the air, leaving the path before the Eight wide open and without obstruction.

"Keep your head down and stay close!" Tangmo told Galadriel as the Eight took off into the mosh pit, the flat elevation making for speedy progress. Unfortunately the great display of power had drawn attention from all parties involved, and soon enough detachments of heretics, orks and orcs started moving to intercept them. "And for the love of the God Emperor, don't go running off on your own and try to be a fucking hero!"

"I am not a fool Tangmo!" Galadriel shot back then thrust her hand at a group of screaming orks with choppas flailing wildly above their heads. A torrent of sorcerous silver blue erupted from her palm, Nenya's incomparable power was on full display as the 40k orks were reduced to charcoal gibs and dashed mercilessly across the ground. "I know what is at stake here!"

"Copy that mam, now please step aside, I'm about to start blasting," Galadriel slipped behind Tangmo, allowing the Thai commissar to go full auto on a mismatch gaggle of heretics and orcs who were rushing toward the Eight, animosity forgotten in the face of a new target. The strobing superheated white las tore through the horde, blood sizzled the air as orcs and men collapsed limply to the ground, burning craters decorating torsos and heads, the charge aborted after only ten seconds. "Don't use the ring of power too much, save it for Sauron. I believe he deserve Nenya's full attention?"

"That we can both agree on, Tangmo," Galadriel let a hint of her canine peaked pass her lips in a grin. Her mirth disappeared when a pulse of energy swept over the mine, throwing many of the combatants flat on the ground and causing the Eight and Galadriel to duck low. Teeth gritted, Tangmo glanced up and saw that Sauron's portal was getting concerningly larger. "By Eru!"

"I'm gonna clear us a path! Lita, cover me!" Damien magnetized the bolter to his belt and drew his thunder hammer, the polearm elongated to its full length with a boom of blue electric bolts. Giving the weapon a few warmup twirls, Damien spun around to face Galadriel, his visors glowing daemonic red. "Keep your head low and stay close, we're running out of time! Tangmo, you're gonna be her shadow, don't let anything happen to her! The rest of you are gonna cover our six, because we ain't looking back!"

"Sir yes sir!" Henry made a playful salute, adjusted his awesome general cap, and turned dramatically around to face the new wave of heretics sprinting for them at breakneck speed. He grinned and readied his Zetton lasgun as Yuki, Laura, Erik and Nikki took their places beside him. "We'll be joining you shortly."

Tangmo was about to say something heroic and inspirational when his friends opened fire on the nearing cultists, the kaleidoscopic storm of laser scythed the nearing Khornate warriors apart, the overwhelming volley reduced the nearing tide to a pitiful trickle. Shrugging, Tangmo ushered Galadriel to follow Damien and Lita, both of whom were already fifty paces in front of them.

"Stop them!" Sauron's voice shattered the air with such thunderous cadence that the ground itself shook, even far from his home universe the Dark Lord had power aplenty. "None shall interfere!"

"Keep pushing forward, we're right behind you!" Tangmo waved quickly for Damien and Lita to keep going, he appreciated the Canadian Marine and Mexican Warseer for stopping in concern but the momentum must be maintained. They nodded sharply and plowed into an onrush of orks and heretics, leaving Tangmo and Galadriel to deal with the nearing LOTR orcs, their singular target was the Lady of Lothlorien. Fixing his attention on the nearing orcs, and really digging how this felt like the opening battle from the Fellowship of the Ring, Tangmo shouldered his lasgun and stared down the laser optic. "Give me a shout when those fuckers get close."

Tangmo barely heard Galadriel's verbal acknowledgement as he opened fire on the shrieking orcs. Having dialed the Zetton lasgun back to semi-auto, Tangmo slowed his breathing, calmed his ass down and methodically headshots or double tapped the servant of Mordor, every flash of the muzzle sending a monster careening to the ground in a twisted heap of broken limbs. Thirty seconds had elapsed, along with twenty five dead orcs, when Galadriel shouted for him. Making a one eighty spin, his awesome commissar coat flapping heroically in the wind, Tangmo closed his fingers around the lasgun fore grip, flipped the switch back to full-auto and held the trigger down on a gaggle of frothing orcs leaping for Galadriel with swords and axes brandished high. The Lady of Lothlorien stood resolute against the oncoming tide, Nenya flexing upon her finger, her straight back posture unchanging as a brilliant arch of laser swooped out and cut the foremost orcs to burnt gibs. Sliding to a stop in front of Galadriel, Tangmo got into a crouch and unleashed a continuous barrage on the remaining orcs, unlike the cleaner kill earlier the field before the Thai commissar was littered with steaming viscera and blood.

"Good showing Tangmo," Galadriel nodded then glanced over her shoulder. "But now more comes."

"Copy that," Tangmo pushed Galadriel onward as he open fire on another group of orcs, these ones wielding bows with arrows nocked at the ready, a concentrated burst of las stopped any projectiles from flying. Upping their speed to a quick jog that was shy of a sprint, Tangmo and Galadriel was trying to catch up to Damien and Lita when more harrowing orcish bays erupted around them. "Goddamn, they are not letting up, are they?"

"Orcs are tenacious," Galadriel held out her hand at a gaggle of Uruk-Hai on the right. "Stand back Tangmo, I shall deal with them."

"Thanks for the offer but like I said before, save that for Sauron," Tangmo slung the lasgun over his shoulder and, deciding that the time was right for an epic display of 40k badassery, drew his bolt pistol and his power krabi sword. He pulled the trigger, Galadriel yelping from the thunderous discharge, and the dozen Uruk-Hais were torn to misty pieces of red gore. Good thing he loaded the Metal Storm rounds before hand. "Keep going! We're almost at the final showdown!"

Galadriel sprinted after Damien and Lita at a speed Tangmo thought she was incapable of, her arms pumping up and down like an Olympic athlete. So enraptured by the Lady of Lothlorien physical display, and how the Guardian armor accented her form pleasantly, Tangmo almost didn't see the fucking orcs coming at him from the left. Flicking the power krabi on, enveloping the metal in a hue not that different from Bilbo and Frodo's famous Sting, Tangmo gave his sword a showy twirl and brought it down on the nearest orc. Black forged armors proved inconsequential in the face of Imperium energy weapon, Tangmo easily bisecting the orc in two from shoulder to hip, fountain of gory dark blood geyser skyward with such explosive violence that the other servants of Mordor skidded to a stop, horrified by the display. Tangmo didn't let their fear go to waste and leapt at the baffled orcs, his power sword painting pretty black mist across the air as he made short work of the creatures of darkness. Trying his damndest not to laugh like a lunatic from the rush of pure martial exhalation, Tangmo made sure he was appropriately cool and heroic as he cut, stabbed, rend and shot every fucking orc that drifted into his line of sight.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?!" Tangmo's lips peeled back in a demented grin, brilliant white canines peeking through blood drenched face, the surviving orcs squawked in distress and scrambled to flee the Thai commissar. "You ain't going nowhere motherfuckers, come here! You pussy ass bitches, no wonder a buncha Hobbits managed to kick your ass!"

Not a nanosecond after his declaration a burning stream of laser and plasma bolts swept over the retreating orcs, limbs and body parts reduced to oozing melted gore. One brow quirked, Tangmo turned around and found the rest of the Eight catching up to him, their rear free of any pursue.

"Those fucking cunts bogged you down?" Laura approached him, shimmering hellgun pointed at the ground as her eyes darted left and right. "For the love of God, tell me you didn't loose Galadriel."

"She's already with Damien and Lita," Tangmo stabbed a thumb over his shoulder at where the thunder hammer's cacophonic pounding was rising in crescendo. "How did things go on your end?"

"Epically," Henry wiped blood from his face, the American general was wielding a revving chainsword in one hand and a plasma pistol in the other. "Honest to God, this is the closest I'll get to experiencing Middle-Earth man, fucking hell this shit is cool beyond word."

"Hey, it ain't Gondor or Helm's Deep but we're racking up so much kill that Legolas and Gimli would be proud," Tangmo joined Henry in blasting a cohort of bloodthirsty Uruk-Hai storming toward the Eight, their courageous display was rewarded with messy evisceration and decapitation. "I also get to hang out with Lady Galadriel too, best fucking day ever!"

"If you two groupies are done fangirling, how about we go help Damien and Lita?!" Yuki snapped at the pair after cleaving three orcs in two with a single sweep of her eldar katana. Flicking black droplets off her sword, the Japanese exarch started in the direction the Canadian Marine and the Mexican Warseer went. "Come on, they'll need our help!"

Without more words wasted the Eight sprinted for the epicenter of the mine, Damien and Lita was holding back a large contingent of orks and lesser Khornate daemons when a reverberating shockwave rolled over the land, the energy unleashed was of clashing silver and ebon. The blast threw Tangmo off his feet, and he would've fallen flat on his ass if Henry didn't catch him, the Thai commissar was in the process of thanking his pal when ethereally loud voices echoed across the air.

"You will not triumph this day! I shall cast you back into the darkness from whence you came!"

"How quaint! Well then she-elf, try your luck now that I am whole and without restrained!"

Steadying his feet, Tangmo and the Eight ran up to join Damien and Lita, the two had dispatched their respective adversaries and were now gawking at the epic battle of arcane might raging across the cracked burning ground. He knew on an instinctive level that standing so close to such a dangerous collision of sorcerous power was about as good an idea as walking into Chernobyl without a hazmat suit, but holy goddamn shit Tangmo would gladly get obliterated to atoms for the chance to witness lady Galadriel and Sauron squaring off in a duel of magic. Tangmo only complain about this clash of titans was that it felt a bit too much like an anime fight, with Galadriel and Sauron roaring at each other while shooting energy beams from their outstretched hands, white and black sorcery crashing violently like two vengeful storms trying to overwhelm one another. Hurricane wind buffeted the land, sending corpses of orcs and orks and heretics pinwheeling across the sky, while the ground beneath Galadriel and Sauron groaned torturously as rocks and stones slowly liquefied from the power unleashed.

"Shit, so much for those two being star-crossed lovers," Tangmo snorted. "Don't know about you guys, but they really, really despise each other."

"I hate that fucking show so fucking much, fucking hell," Laura spat through gritted teeth. "Can't wait for the day that piece of shit get cancel."

"Not that I don't enjoy all of this," Nikki waved at the kaleidoscopic confrontation, her platinum blonde hair fluttering fiercely from the gale. "But…what the hell are we doing now?"

"Do we help her or what?" Erik glanced left and right for any answer. "Not that I think she need any."

"No, she doesn't," Lita took in the immediate vicinity, the Eight had done a great job of creating a ring of corpses around the two combatants. Elsewhere across the open-pit mine fierce melee continued unabated, most of the orcs and orks and heretics too occupied with their own bloody business to give a flying fuck about Galadriel and Sauron. "I guess we make sure no one interferes."

"Good, because I haven't seen an epic showdown like this in a while," adjusting his stance so that he was comfortable, Tangmo was reaching into his awesome commissar coat for the data-pad, such moments needed to be recorded after all, when a fiery roar shattered the air. The Eight yelled in unison, unrestrained in shock and fright when a particularly large Bloodletter appeared out of nowhere and made a beeline for Galadriel. Whether it was because of the Eight's frantic warning or that she spotted the Khornate daemon herself, Galadriel spun to face the Bloodletter with a yelp and used all the power in Nenya to summon a transparent shield like when Gandalf fought the Balrog in Moria. Shrieking his war cry, serpentine tongue rolling across rows of serrated fangs, the Bloodletter slammed the sword down on Galadriel. The Lady of Lothlorien screamed in agony when the blow sent her bouncing painfully across the ground, the shield she had summoned shattered into a hundred glittering shards, the jagged pieces danced briefly in the sunlight before disintegrating to dust.

"Lady Galadriel!" Lita and the Eight were instantly beside Galadriel when she rolled to a stop in front of them. Slowly and with care, the girls helped the dazed but otherwise uninjured Galadriel back to her feet while the boys spread out and formed a protective perimeter. "By Isha, are you hurt?!"

"Bruises and scratches, nothing deeper…at least I don't think my bones are broken," Galadriel took a few tentative steps then grunted, her tone pleased. "Yes, the armor protected me from the worse of the blow."

"Stay back!" Galadriel and the Eight looked up to see Sauron backing away from the Bloodletter, the Khornate daemon was not at all intimidated by the lord of Mordor. "I am the lord of darkness, the right hand of Morgoth, the master of Mordor, you shall obey me!"

The Bloodletter didn't give a fuck and continued his approach, Sauron responding by raising his gauntleted hand and unleashing a torrent of black energy at the daemon, completely engulfing him. Although he was too far away to correctly discern the lord of Mordor's facial expression, Tangmo was sure Sauron must've been wearing a look of utter shock when the unharmed Bloodletter marched through the flame, and boy was the red daemon pissed by the magical display. Sauron was about to let loose more black sorcery when he caught a backhanded swing to the ribs, the glowing rune etched blade shattering the side of his breastplate to splinter, the Bloodletter howled with glee as the famous fantasy villain was ragdolled across the air. By chance Sauron landed about thirty paces to the Eight's immediate right, but all eyes were for the moment trained on a glowing object lying on the ground between the Dark Lord and the Bloodletter. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were looking at Mandos's sacred vessel, an urn shaped device forged from purest glass and entwined with swirling pattern fashioned from high quality expensive metal, Mithril in all likelihood. The Bloodletter took one look at Mandos's vessel, and lifted his cloven hoof.

"NO!"

Galadriel and Sauron cried in unison as the Bloodletter stomped on Mandos's relic, shattering it into a thousand pieces. Shaking his hooved feet with disdain, the Bloodletter smirked at the angst Sauron and continued his pursue, the Dark Lord swiftly scrambled back to his feet and hightailed it.

"No…no, no, no," tears flowed down Galadriel's face as she sprinted for the broken vessel and fell to her knees next to the pulverized shards. With shaking hands she reached for the jagged glasses, picked up the largest remnant and held it close to her face, trying and failing to find any vestige of an elven soul. "By Eru, I have failed…I have failed."

"No you didn't," Galadriel was starting to sob when Lita appeared beside her, the Mexican Warseer very chill countenance was extremely confusing given how fucked the situation was transpiring. Tangmo was about to question her nonchalant mood when he noticed the large glowing crystal fashioned in the likeness of a teardrop, the craftsmanship so flawless that it resembled a droplet frozen in time, dangling by a length of twinkling chain from Lita's fingers. From within the amulet roiled bright energy of white and silver. "The souls weren't lost, they're in here safe and sound."

"Wha – what did you, how?" Galadriel stammered as Lita held the amulet out to her, after a moment of hesitation the Lady of Lothlorien took it. A teary smile broke out when she closed her hand around the crystal, the illumination taking on a warm hue. "You're right, I can feel the souls within, they are bereft of fear and anguish."

"Yo, is that a Soul Stone?" Erik leaned closer to the amulet and Lita nodded her confirmation. "A big ass Soul Stone, where did you get it?"

"Isha helped me," Lita said then pressed on quickly before the Eight can bombard her with question. "Relax guys, this new type of Soul Stones had been in development by the goddess for sometimes. It was to be used by Aeldari healers and medics to spirit away large quantity of souls when mass casualties event happens, instead of collecting each individual Soul Stone. I offer Isha to give it a beta test and she agrees, I didn't tell her anything about our mission though."

"Good thing you didn't, Isha had been too chummy with Celestine lately, she could blab and get all of us in trouble," Yuki said. "Nice foresight by the way, you just stopped a disaster from happening."

"It's nothing really," Lita somehow managed to make a shrug unbelievably smug. "See, I've read enough books and watched enough movie to know that cliché things like this were bound to happen, so I took precaution. Turns out I was totally right, as always."

"Uh, guys, Sauron just managed to open a gateway," Nikki pointed at a black arch that had suddenly appeared out of thin air, shimmering frost flecked with icicled ash drifted weakly from the ebon void. The Bloodletter stared at the portal in incomprehension, giving Sauron enough time to dash into the darkness. "And he just ran away."

"You know, this is totally in character with him. If you read the Silmarillion, both Morgoth and Sauron always pull a Joseph Joestar every time they're losing," Damien made his commentary as the portal of evil imploded and disappeared in the blink of an eye, this was soon followed by shrieking of the orcish variety. The octave and tone indicating hopelessness and despair. "Wait a minute, did the orcs just went full Phantom Menace?"

"I don't know your meaning Damien, but now that Sauron have abandoned them the orcs are akin to ships caught in a storm without rudders or sails, they are now frightened and absolutely helpless," this point was vividly illustrated when the heretics and orks plowed into the surviving orcs with impunity, making a sport of the slaughter with harrowing litanies to the Dark Gods and hollering delight. "That is rather – the red demon is coming toward us!"

Oh yeah, the Bloodletter was still around. The Eight spared the snarling Khornate daemon a bored glance, then after about five seconds Lita flicked her hand disdainfully at him. The Bloodletter managed a wet gurgle of surprise as his head, legs and arms were detached from his torso in brilliant fountains of scarlet.

"By Eru!" Galadriel gasped at the killing and spun to face Lita with naked astonishment. "How were you able to kill that demon when Sauron couldn't?"

"Sauron's power are geared toward fighting the good guys, brave upstanding men and women who uphold honor and virtue, heroes basically," Henry put forward his hypothesis. "That same power used against servants of the Dark Gods, who might even be more evil than Sauron, wouldn't be as effective."

"I see," Galadriel accepted the explanation with clear reservation. She then held the Soul Stone close to her chest and said, "what are we to do now?"

"Grandmother!"

Okay, out of everything that had happened today, this one actually threw Tangmo off. The voice was familiar, teasing at the edge of his memories, but who in the fuck was calling for their grandmother right in the middle of a freaking warzone?

"Ah! You fucking arsehole, don't fucking startle us like that!" Following Laura's exclamation, Tangmo and the Eight found the source of the declaration.

"Grandmother, are you well?" The speaker was none other than lady Arwen Undomiel, daughter of Elrond and Celebrain, the former queen of Gondor. It has been a while since Tangmo last met Arwen. She remained a woman of startling beauty untouched by time, but after taking up the mantle of a warrior she now possessed a sharper edge to her feature, which was greatly complimented by the dark green shirt and trousers she wore. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine Arwen," Galadriel wiped away what remained of her tears, and got her face covered in soot for the trouble. Taking a deep breath, Galadriel flashed Arwen a smile and held the Soul Stone up to her. "I did it, I have reclaimed the souls of our dead."

"Yo, can you, like, have this reunion later please?!" Tangmo interrupted the heartfelt banter. Ignoring Galadriel and Arwen's combined glare, the Thai commissar waved at the portal that had popped into existence behind them. Beyond the shimmering threshold between worlds was a bright green garden filled with tables laden with drinks and trees turned golden in autumn, a stark contrast to the blood and smoke and fire of the battlefield. "I mean shit, the portal is like two steps away, so can you please get back to Valinor before something bad happens?!"

"Tangmo is absolutely right," Master, the Eight's boss and an absolute bona fide guardian of the multiverse with phenomenal cosmic power, stepped through the portal and gently took Galadriel by the hand. "Lady Galadriel, please come with me, it isn't safe here."

"No shit it ain't safe this is fucking 40k, so why the fuck are you still in this place man?!" Damien bellowed at them, the distorted Space Marine voice causing the growing crowd on the Valinor side to gasp at the profanity. "What the fuck – do I have to Muay Thai kick your ass back to Middle-Earth?!"

"Okay, okay, jeez, chill out will you?!" Master groaned and finally escorted Galadriel back into Valinor. The Eight let out a collective exhale of relief when Galadriel collapsed to her knees, heaving great exhausted breath as Arwen and Celebrain appeared, the three generation of elves embracing deeply. Others soon joined them but at a respectable distant, voicing words of concern and encouragement as Galadriel got back on her feet. Tangmo made a quick sweep and found the likes of Anomander Rake, Gandalf, Paksenarrion, Egwene al'Vere and Vin amongst the crowd. Standing nearby, Master dusted off his hands and afforded the Eight a quirked brow. "See? Everything is a okay."

"Wait! Come with me!" Galadriel walked up to the portal, stopping only a single step from the threshold. "If you remain you will die, hundreds are converging on you!"

"Oh we know," Tangmo stashed his bolt pistol and krabi sword and unslung his lasgun. Around him the Eight were likewise readying their weapons. "And we ain't going nowhere."

"Tangmo, please!" Galadriel pleaded. "You've already helped me, let me help you in return!"

"Thank you for the offer lady Galadriel, but only in death does duty ends. And my duty is not at an end," Tangmo waiied Galadriel, low and with respect. "We'll see each other again, until then, stay safe."

At a nod from Tangmo Master closed the portal with a wave of the hand, cutting off Galadriel before she can utter more words. His heart lightened after a successful mission, Tangmo returned his attention to approaching heretics and orks, even this bleak future wasn't able to wipe away the smile on his face.

"Honestly though, we really should've taken her offer," Laura snickered, like Tangmo the impeding battle didn't bother her. "This looks like it's gonna get ugly."

"Yeah, good luck explaining to the battlegroup how we survived an open-pit mine filled with orks and heretics with barely a scratch on us. We're good, but not that good," unlike his peers, Damien was the only person with a melee weapon in hand, the thunder hammer crackling excitedly for the bloodshed to come. "Also, we just got ourselves a Space Marine 2 banner moment y'all, and I'm all for it!"

"Kinda suck there ain't gonna be no Calgar making an epic entrance to bail our asses out," Henry made his comment and loaded a grenade into the launcher attachment beneath the barrel of his lasgun. The American general gave an annoyed tsk at the forces arrayed against them. "And we don't have any banner too, damn."

"About the whole Calgar shtick," Lita pointed up at the cerulean sky, her visage was one of confusion. "I'm sorry, is that a Valkyrie diving straight for us?"

"It is," Tangmo blinked several times against the glare reflecting off the singular transport ship, then noticed a pair of wings flapping beside it. "Now it's my turn to ask, is that Celestine flying next to the Valkyrie?"

Any forthcoming confirmation to this fact was interrupted by a powerful salvo of missiles and bolts, the heretics and orks were completely blindsided as a tidal wave of metals and flames swept over them, within seconds all that remained were fire wreathed gory gibs splattered across the ground. When the survivors finally saw the Valkyrie and were training their guns skyward Celestine dove into them, the Ardent Blade a radiant ribbon of angelic blue as it cleaved apart heretics, orks and lesser daemons with horrific ease. Not one to let a friend fight alone, the Eight rushed into the fray, guns blazing. Already reduced in number and now finding themselves assailed from multiple directions, the heretics and orks were utterly destroyed. The few stragglers who survived were running for the hills when the Valkyrie banked down to the ground, the aircraft performing a hot LZ maneuver as the side door opened and none other than Isha leapt out. Celestine landed beside her while the Valkyrie flew away in the direction where the Thunderhawk was parked.

"That was amazing!" Slinging the lasgun over his shoulder, Tangmo threw his fist victoriously in the air and jogged up to Celestine and Isha with a beaming smile on his face. "You're a lifesaver my lady Celestine, hell, all of us were getting kinda worried – gaakkkarragghh!"

Faster than anyone could react Celestine's hand lashed out and clamped savagely over Tangmo's neck, the Living Saint lifting the Thai commissar easily of the ground, leaving his legs kicking air as the gauntleted fingers squeezed his windpipe so hard that black spots started dancing across his vision.

"Lord commissar," Celestine's voice was devoid of emotion but dreadful in timbre. "I believe we are overdue for an honest conversation."