As above...

It is the 42nd millennium.

The Great Rift pulsates across the Galaxy, radiating terror and Chaos. Huron Blackheart continues to raid and despoil across the endless void, with no fleet - human or Xeno - able to contain his greed. With the former Cadian Gate firmly in his grasp, Abaddon marshalls his forces within the Eye of Terror, and the galaxy holds its breath in dreadful anticipation of a new - and perhaps final - Black Crusade.

Inside the Immaterium, the Great Game continues. The Chaos Gods and their servants jockey with one another in an eternal competition for dominance, occasionally turning their gaze on an increasingly fragile materium. Lorgar, the first of the Emperor's sons to fall, emerges from his long meditation, his insights into the Primordial Truth known only to himself. The other traitorous sons likewise stir, seeking to finish what the long-dead Horus started ten millennia ago.

Xenos empires great and small flock across the stars like the carrion birds of Ancient Terra. The opportunism and myriad agenda of the Alien lead them to war against the Imperium and one another. The undying Silent King sneers upon them all, seeing the younger races as naught but fodder for the Great Devourer that would buy time for his legions to rebuild their strength. All the while, the unending Hive Fleets descend upon the Galaxy, seeking to satiate its endless hunger and undeterred by the wars among the stars.

Yet the Emperor's vigil continues, unbroken for the past ten millenia. His returned loyal sons battle across the galaxy to reunite the divided Imperium and restore a modicum of sanity to the maddenened galaxy. Their actions spur on the armies of the faithful even if they themselves scorn the twisted worship of their Father. The Adeptus Custodes and the Sisters of Silence return to the battlefield after a ten-thousand year absence, fighting with urgency and ferocity not seen since the darkest days of the Horus Heresy. The Adeptus Mechanicus scour the Galaxy, looking for any scrap of archeotech to keep the dying light shining for a little longer. The Imperial Guard and the Imperial Navy continue to hold the line on the ground and in the void, even when they are the only line remaining. Of course, nothing more needs to be said of the many shadow wars fought by the Inquisition and the Officio Assassinorum against the Alien, the Heretic, and the Daemon...

Then there are the Adeptus Astartes, gene-enhanced warriors and the embodiment of The Emperor's fury. From Chapter to Chapter, Firstborn and Primaris stand as one to battle the ever-encroaching darkness. They valiantly strike out across the galaxy, vanguards against the myriad unspeakable horrors among the stars. Chief among them is the Ultramarines, proud sons of Guilliman and masters of the interstellar realm that gave the Chapter its name. With Marneus Calgar at the helm, their forces collect blood debt after blood debt from their hated foes, from the treacherous Word Bearers to the vile Tyranids.

One such force seeks to join the greater Indomitus Crusade, now raging into its fifth decade. Yet it is waylaid and scattered by the Arch-Enemy, sending some of Ultramar's greatest champions hurtling out of the Emperor's reach...

So below...

It is Winter 1207, and the World War continues. The Ashen Chevalier's sacrifice and the Ebon Knight's banishment failed to stop Jormungand's insatiable maw, the miracle that Operation Radiant Wings fought valiantly for turned out to be for nought. The other four groups of doomed brave souls were forced from the skies and became the hunted, seemingly swallowed up by the land of darkness that became of Erebonia.

Operation Mille Mirage fights on to contain Erebonia's expansion, but even with a Cassius Bright fuelled by grief and rage at the lead, it is failing. The combined armies and militias of smaller nations are swatted aside, leaving Calvard to mostly stand alone. Their associates fare no better.

The Bracer Guild, long-served as the supporting gauntlet of the common man, finds itself increasingly overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the suffering, with the Bracers themselves often having to act against their conscience just to survive. The Septian Church struggles to offer comfort to the masses who cry out to The Goddess for salvation, their prayers growing more desperate by the day. Not to mention the horrors they must battle in the shadows...

Even with Osborne dead and Crown Prince Cedric missing, the Erebonian war machine found vicious new leaders at the helm. Free from the pretense of ancient curses and their true motives clouded in mystery, the Erebonian High Command continues to feed Men and Machine into the grinder. Amidst the backdrop of feverish wardrums, Emperor Eugent and the entire Royal Family vanished from public view overnight even as the war continues in his name...

In Crossbell, vicious street battles rage day and night. The Crossbellan resistance and their Calvardian allies fight tooth and nail for their lives and for the city's very existence. Yet they are losing ground. Erebonia's Garellian Garrison, possessed by a strange new battle lust, sow fire onto the battered city, and in return reap a tally of blood and skulls from the enemy, the innocent, and even their so-called compatriots.

The World War reopened old scars from the Hundred Days War that Liberl desperately wished healed, and the nation rallied behind the Army. Yet even total war and Calvardian support were not enough to stop Liberlian lines from being crushed under Erebonia's mighty treads. The occupiers waste no time in turning newly captured territory and resources against its former masters. Supplies and industry are seized at gunpoint, resistance is stamped out, and even Liberl's populace is beginning to be press-ganged into joining the Erebonian war effort. Liberl's final redoubt, the factory city of Zeiss, is under siege, and Queen Alicia resigns herself to making a final stand with her people.

Amidst the carnage and chaos, the Society of Ouroboros has fallen silent. Some say it is engaged against an unseen war of its own against an even more sinister enemy...

"Zemuria cries out for its Goddess, but She does not answer! She does not!"

It is a time of madness and despair. Hope and progress has been torn asunder, replaced by the flames of ending war. Yet above the cacophony of battle, a lone star descends, bringing with it promises of salvation.

And of retribution.

A/N: I played Space Marine 2 almost religiously before I deployed, and this is the result (that and I need a mid-deployment outlet). This fic was posted to AO3 first because I'm still deployed and took me foever to figure out how to publish on this site with just my phone.