1 Chapter 1
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"For humanity, for the Emperor!"
A captain, transformed into a half-human, half-machine under the technology of the Machine Cult, roared hysterically.
His prosthetic limb slammed onto the console in front of him, and he glared, red-eyed, at the nearby power manager and the Mechanicus Priest in charge of maintaining the engine room.
"Divert all power to the propulsion system! Even if we die, I want to take them with us!"
Their battleship was doomed.
The void shield reactor was overloaded, explosions occurred in many parts of the ship. A few more hits, and it would be utterly destroyed.
After issuing the order, the captain flashed a fanatical smile, roaring out the vow he had made countless times.
"For humanity, for the Emperor, forward, forward."
Following the captain's command, the rear of the battleship, unprotected by the void shield, erupted in intense light. The ship's speed increased as it charged towards a Chaos ship covered in flesh, intending to bring mutual destruction.
The universe and fate have a common characteristic, both are cold, ruthless, and brutal.
Regrettably, the bravery of the captain and his crew earned them no rewards from fate.
Lady Luck did not spare a glance at this man filled with courage and the spirit of sacrifice.
Accompanied by the dazzling light spear released by the Chaos ship, the massive battleship was penetrated directly.
The plasma reactor under extreme pressure was hit, causing an explosion. Flames gushed along the ducts.
The five-kilometer-long gargantuan battleship was engulfed in a sea of fire, becoming shattered fragments in space.
Over ten thousand human crew members onboard were sacrificed, none survived.
"For humanity and the Emperor," in the sea of fire, the captain roared his vow for the last time with all his strength.
The destruction of the battleship seemed insignificant on the grand scale of the space battlefield.
In the vast expanse of the battlefield, thousands of battleships were engaged in combat.
Countless light spears, plasma beams, torpedo-sized containers, and high-yield nuclear missiles turned space into a deadly no-man's land.
The war had reached its most desperate moment.
The Imperial Fleet launched counterattack after counterattack, trying to regain orbital control of the planet of Macragge, to provide support to the surface.
They must send support before the ground forces collapse completely, otherwise, the final horn for humanity would sound.
The end of days was sure to come.
Humanity, this tenacious species, was also heading towards destruction.
The surface of Macragge was engulfed in warfare.
Each city was subjected to unimaginable artillery fire.
The local orbit had been seized, the artillery positions had fallen, and the tank formations had been completely obliterated.
Air combat vehicles were still desperately holding on, preventing the demonic machines from seizing the last of their air superiority.
Elite legionnaires were reassigned to protect the holy sites.
Only the Macragge Honour Guard continued to fight for the cities and civilians in desperation.
Civilians trembled behind the battered lines formed by the Honour Guard soldiers. Men and women of suitable age were all sent to the battlefield.
Women and children waited in despair for the end of days, silently praying for the Emperor to save them, and also to carry their souls after death so they would not suffer torment in the dreadful sub-space and become hideous monsters.
Inside the sanctum of the elite warriors, some of the most brutal battles were being fought.
Here, the fate of this planet and the entire galaxy would be decided.
"Stop them," said a Chaos Space Marine, clad in black and blood-soaked armor, his gaze filled with cruelty and malice.
He swung his chainsword, which had long since stopped spinning, casually killing the regular soldiers trying to provide support.
These regular soldiers fell like wheat before a sharp scythe, their bodies torn apart and soaked the ground of the sanctuary with their blood.
"For mankind, for the Emperor."
Cruelty and bloodshed could not deter the soldiers behind, they shouted the only slogan that gave them courage, rushed forward with their lasguns, trying to prevent these traitorous renegades from desecrating this sacred structure.
The Chaos Space Marine did not stop. He brandished his chainsword, limbs flying around him randomly, the face beneath his helmet excited by the slaughter.
"Blood for the Blood God." He shouted the name of his malevolent god before lungishly brutally at the regular soldiers, unreservedly reaping their lives.
Soldiers fell one after another; their purpose was to buy time for humanity under the gaze of the Emperor.
The battle inside the sanctuary was intense and hopeless.
The surviving elite warriors, the Sisters of Battle, and the Death Cultists had all been cornered.
Saint Celestine's white wings were broken, and one hand severed.
Her armor was shattered, and horrific wounds seeped sweet-smelling blood.
The Sisters of Battle were either disintegrated under the concentrated attacks of plasma cannons and bombs or torn apart by Chaos Space Marines and demons.
"Grant me power, grant me victory, I will serve you, walking the world in your name."
Blood streamed from one of Celestine's eyes, but in her heart, she still murmured the name of the Emperor.
As hordes of Chaos Space Marines and demons charged her, Celestine held her holy sword without the slightest wavering.
"For the Emperor, for mankind."
With her defiant cry, a tremendous golden light burst forth. It was the blessing of the Emperor.
Countless demons were hurled away by her burst of golden light. However, swiftly, even more demons and Chaos warriors surged forward.
On the chaotic battlefield, the Chapter Master of the Space Marine legion, Calgar, roared with rage. His azure power armor was conspicuously obvious amidst the tumult, making him a prime target for attack. His grenades were depleted, his war sword broken, only a power fist remained functional.
Boom!
A Space Marine was blasted into fragments right in front of him by a Chaos warrior's melta-gun. The residual limbs emanated a charred, sickening heat.
"Traitors!"
The death of a brother caused Calgar's eyes to bulge in rage, he bellowed like a wrathful lion. Seeing one comrade after another fall, he too became frenzied, swinging his power fist as he charged forward.
After ripping a Chaos warrior apart, he turned his gaze to the podium. At a standstill nearby, the Tech-priest Cawl and those damned Xenos were still operating.
"Is it all in vain?"
Despair welled up within Calgar. They were unable to revive the Primarch, the magnificent progenitor. Was it all ending? Was this the end of their mission?
A millennium after the first ruler of the Imperium, the Emperor, took the Golden Throne, Abaddon, the second Warmaster of the Chaos Gods, launched the 13th Black Crusade. With the help of the Blackstone Fortress, he successfully destroyed Cadia, the bulwark containing the Eye of Terror, letting the power of Chaos engulf the entire galaxy.
The era of the galaxy's decline had arrived. The Cicatrix Maledictum, the Great Rift, tore through the galaxy. Countless monsters poured out from the rift, leaving only death and destruction in their wake.
Nightmares of old dark times reappeared in numerous worlds, bringing endless slaughter and brutal devastation. The power of the apocalypse converged on an unprecedented scale, leaving no safe place to evade fate.
Countless worlds fell, innumerable mortals wailed and died under the torment and ravage of the demons and the Chaos Spawn. Mankind faced its greatest crisis; another failure and an eternal night would engulf the entire galaxy.
A grand battle between good and evil, chaos and order was imminent. This war would rip apart the stars, annihilating everything people knew and were familiar with.
Psykers with the ability to prophesy already displayed signs of despair. There was no future for mankind in this dark and brutal galaxy. This world was about to plunge into an abyss of despair, with humans becoming the playthings of the malevolent gods.
With a ground-shaking rumble, the Sanctuary was hit hard once again. The second wave of Chaos drop pods crashed into the Sanctuary, wreathed in flames. With a strange noise, the pods opened, and hundreds of renegade Space Marines flooded out, joining the fray on the battlefield. They were the ace in the hole for the Chaos forces.
An onslaught of demons had her golden light scattering them into the air.
However, swiftly more demons and Chaos warriors surged forward.
On the chaotic battlefield, the Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, Calgar, roared furiously.
His azure power armor was strikingly visible amidst the chaos of the battlefield, making him a prime target of the enemy's onslaught.
His explosives were exhausted, and his war sword was broken, leaving him with only a power fist operational.
Boom!!
An Ultramarine in front of him was shattered to bits by a Chaos warrior's melt gun.
The remaining limbs emitted burnt black and foul-smelling heat.
"Traitors!!"
The death of his brother made Calgar's eyes bulge with rage as he roared like an angry lion.
Seeing his comrades fall one by one, he too went mad, rushing forward wielding his power fist.
After tearing apart a Chaos warrior, he turned his head towards the platform.
Next to the stationary position, the Mechanicus Priest Cawl and those damn aliens were still operating.
"Is it not working after all?"
Despair welled up in Calgar's heart. They couldn't revive their Gene Fatjer, the great progenitor?!
Is everything coming to an end??
Is this the end of the mission??
Ten thousand years after the first ruler of the Imperium, the Emperor, took his place on the Golden Throne, Abaddon, the second warlord of the four Chaos Gods, launched the thirteenth Black Crusade.
Utilizing the Blackstone Fortress, he successfully obliterated the fortress of Cadia that contained the Eye of Terror, allowing the chaos of the Great Rift to sweep across the entire galaxy.
The era of the galaxy's decline has arrived. The Scar of Curse tore apart the entire galaxy.
From the rift, countless demons poured out, leaving nothing but death and destruction in their wake.
Nightmares of old times have re-emerged in every world, bringing endless slaughter and cruel destruction.
The power of annihilation has gathered on an unprecedented scale. There's no safe place to escape this disaster.
Countless worlds have fallen, countless mortals have died wailing under the brutal rampage and torture of demons and Chaos spawn.
Mankind is facing its greatest crisis. If they fail again, eternal darkness will envelop the entire galaxy.
A grand final battle is about to take place. Good and evil, chaos and order. The battle will tear the stars apart, destroying everything people know and are familiar with.
Psychics with prophetic abilities have already shown despair. This cruel, dark galaxy no longer has a future for mankind.
This world will fall into the abyss of despair, and humans will become the playthings of the evil gods.
With a ground-shaking rumble, the sanctuary was once again hit hard.
The second wave of Chaos pods, wrapped in flames, crashed into the sanctuary.
With a strange sound, the drop pods opened, and hundreds of renegade Space Marines poured out, joining the battlefield.
They were used as the trump card by the commander of the Chaos forces.
An instant teleportation onto the battlefield was performed to thoroughly break the defenders' line.
Despair completely enveloped all the warriors.
"For mankind, for the Emperor."
They let out their final desperate war cry, facing death with acceptance and vowing to take as many traitors attacking the sanctuary with them as possible.
Darkness has completely taken over, the final trumpet of mankind's end is about to sound, and the end of everything is coming.
At the moment when the final life and death struggle between the two sides was about to break out.
With the dong of a bell, a pure and clear note lit up.
The automaton box emitted a melody-like sound and opened its dome like a giant man-eating flower opening its petals.
A tall, oppressive figure appeared before everyone.
Having slept for ten thousand years, mankind's last light of redemption, the last hope of the Imperium, the Emperor's thirteenth son, representing loyalty, hope, and benevolence, the Primarch - Roboute Guilliman, opened his eyes in front of the tense faces of both sides.
He looked at everything in front of him, his gaze revealing confusion and cluelessness.
Wasn't he playing a game??
How did he open his eyes to find himself here??
A flood of memories surged up, making him understand everything in an instant.
Fck!
Fck!
Fck!
