1 Chapter I

'Why do I feel so heavy?'

A man thought, feeling as if his body wouldn't move. Rather, feeling as if he were restrained. A cool breeze kissed his skin as if he were butt naked. Then slowly, his eyes fluttered open, allowing him to gaze up at a somewhat cloudy blue sky above him. For a moment, he felt as if he were dreaming, then began to frown since a dream wouldn't be as vivid as this. Slowly, he sat up, then noticed that he was wearing armor. Bulky armor, in fact, to the point that he was beyond Dwayne Johnson's body size. It looked like a mix of golden, turquoise blue accents that seem to hue with light and bronze.

The man flexed his hands, closing and opening his palms as he looked at himself. Then, placing his hand on the grass that he was laying on, he felt his armored fingers brush against something.

His head lowered to find a ten foot long spear, one that had intricate engravings going across it in a language that, strangely enough, the man could understand.

"Whoa..." He uttered, then listened to his own voice, finding it both deep yet calming. That wasn't his voice. Actually, it sounded much better than how he normally sounded. Beside the spear were two other objects, an helmet with a V like visor going across the front of it, and a six foot long longsword that looked as if it had just been forged. When the man went to reach for the blade, he felt his vision warp for a moment, as if his mind was being sent somewhere else.

His vision returned to him, but he could see himself in a third-person perspective. He looked as if he were easily eight or nine feet tall, his hair was silk like, and as gold as the sun's light. His face was more handsome than any man on the planet, and his eyes as blue as the sky itself. The man turned his gaze and saw himself rising to his feet before picking up the spear and immediately jabbing forward to puncture a beast of some kind, one that looked both hideous and crab like. It looked like that alien creature from Star Wars Episode 2: Attack of the Clones, an Acklay.

The spear pierced the creature as if it were a hot knife cutting through butter. Some form of electricity emitted from the tip down to the middle of its metal shaft, then the Acklay squealed in pain as the man pulled the spear out and jabbed forward in blinding speed punch the spear right into the creature's elongated skull. Which spewed green blood across the grass beneath him. At that moment was when the man's vision blurred and warped once again, and he found himself still sitting on the ground, with an armored gloved hand reaching out to the spear still.

The man hadn't a clue as to what he had just witnessed. Though he did note that he looked exactly like Sanguinius, though the armor itself looked different. He even noticed the majestic wings on his back from the "vision" that he had just witnessed. Glancing back, his eyes widened in awe as he could see the wings in their full glory. Instinctively, he tried to flex his back muscles and watched the wings actually move. An elated expression came over his face, one that made him feel as if he had struck gold. He had wings, weapons, armor, and a desirable figure. Yet still, one question with no answer still eluded him.

'Where am I, and is this really a dream?'

He thought, then heard something large approaching, then the tall-tale signs of an Acklay squealing. Quickly turning his attention forward, he found the creature approaching him, letting out a bloodthirsty squeal. Normally, any normal man would become terrified. Some men may even faint or wet themselves. Yet for whatever reason, this man remained calm, as if he couldn't be bothered to fear this creature. It was as if his body felt as if it, it had fought foes greater than this. With a cold look, the man grabbed his spear, then rose to a kneeling position and raised the end of his spear upwards.

This was when the man realized something. His body was moving on its own. As if it were muscle memory ingrained into every fiber of his being. For a few seconds, he thought about why this was, then the thought was swept aside as he dashed forward. His armored boot heels slammed into the grass, his body moving faster, and the distance between both he and creature closing in a matter of seconds. A rush of adrenaline ran in his veins, the exhilaration of this experience making him feel excited. The Acklay raised one of its pointed and razor-sharp legs and swung down at the man. Before its leg could hit the however, the man found one hand leaving his spear's shaft then miraculously catching the creature's leg in an iron grip.

The creature pulled, but the man didn't budge or even move an inch. His palm remained affixed upon the creature's leg. In fact, his grip tightened and squeezed into the Acklay's skin. With his other arm, he jabbed forward and watched as the tip of the spear emit an electric like hue. Then its bladed tip pierced right through the creature's stomach and punched out through it back. Green blood spewed out, coating the ground beneath them. Without missing a beat, the man pulled his spear right back out of the creature, then jabbed forward once again, watching as it pierced the head of the Acklay. Its squeals fell silent, its body unmoving for a moment. Then it fell to the ground like a doll that had its strings cut loose.

Removing his spear, he found the tip and the upper part of the shaft dripping with blood. His gaze remained affixed to the Acklay, his body having felt no discomfort for anything that he had just done. He was still processing what he had just done, the taking of a life, the superhuman actions, everything. It was all surreal, yet strangely enough, he felt no surprise overcoming him. That was when he looked down, trying to piece together all that he had just done. In a matter of moments, he had replayed the scene in his head, then turned to see how far he had just run. The sword and helmet that had been laying beside him were nearly a yard away from him. Wanting to see how fast that he could run, the man dashed forward and felt a breeze of wind blow against him. The helmet and sword drew closer, and in a matter of nanoseconds, they were right in front of him. At no point did he need to take a breathe, his body had no feelings of stress, fatigue, nothing.

Pursing his lips, the man slowly reached down, grabbing the longsword, then watched as fire began erupting all across the blade. Eyes widening from surprise, he starred at the sword in wonder and awe. Even going so far as to wave it around yet the flames remained over the blade. He could even feel the heat from the sword. He wondered how he would be able to turn the flames off, then as if on cue, they receded into the sword.

'That was, convient.'

He thought, then glanced back to find a sheath on his back for the blade. Reaching backwards, he made sure that he didn't poke his wings and placed the sword in the sheath. Facing forward and looking to his helmet, he reached down to pick it up, then found a letter beneath the helmet. With a curious expression, the man placed his helmet back down and picked up the letter to read it.

"Dear Caleb,

You don't know me, but I most certainly know you. You're probably wondering what's going on, why you're in Sanguinius'body, and why you were able to kill an Acklay. By the way, I sent that Acklay there despite the planet that you're on being Naboo. To answer one of your building questions, you didn't die. I more or less plucked you from your universe and put you into Sanguinius' body. Considering that he is dead in one universe and he doesn't need that sack of meet anymore.

To answer another question, no, this is not a dream. This is all very real. You would be wise not to test and see what happens if you happen to die here. Trust me, you don't want to find out, after all I'll be waiting for you. Now, lastly, you are in Star Wars, specifically thirty minutes before the events of the Phantom Menace. Why you're here isn't important, what is important is that you have a choice. You can either stop the events of the main story of Star Wars, accelerate it, or even change the course of it altogether. I'm curious to see as to what you can do. Good luck, and have fun!

Yours truly, T.

P.S. There are no Chaos Gods here so you don't have to worry about them, and your new name now is Corvinius, using your old name will only give you an aneurysm. Go ahead and try it."

The letter confused Caleb, and feeling a little curious he did what that last sentence prompted him to to.

"Ca-"

As soon as he spoke the first syllable of his name, a major migraine hit his brain. Wincing and dropping the letter in his hand. He placed his armored palm to his head and felt his head throb in pain. As if a needle were going through his brain at a slow pace. As soon as the migraine came, it subsided as if it hadn't happened to begin with. Caleb, or rather, Corvinius looked down at the letter, finding himself in bewildered silence.

'Is this some kind of isekai or some shit?'

He thought, then frowned before stepping on the letter. As if to spite this "T" entity that had sent him here in the first place.

Now knowing where he was, he looked around, trying to find out where on Naboo he was at. He remembered the events of the movies, of course, somewhat of the shows, and only a few of the games. Though he wasn't really a Star Wars fan, Corvinius was a Warhammer 40k fan. Specifically of Sanguinius and the Blood Angels.

"Wait a minute, they said that the main story of Star Wars starts in thirty minutes."

He thought aloud, then pondered on what was said in the letter. What was he going to do? Should he play paragon and try to save the Jedi from the Sith? Should he instead join up with the Sith and take over the galaxy?

'Decisions, decisions..'

He thought with interest. Of course, he was aware that he wasn't panicking or even nervous about his current circumstances. Like his body and his own mind had gotten over it and mused over what he should be doing. Not sure on what he should do, he decided to try and make his way to the city where Queen Amidala would be. For now he would play paragon, mainly because he had nothing but his weapons and armor.

Corvinius looked down once again, stared at his helmet, then leaned over to pick it up. He stared at the visor, finding the design and craft of the helmet not that of Sanguinius, then again the armor didn't look like Sanguinius' either. Turning the helmet so that the back of it faced him, he placed it onto his head. The visor came showing the outside as if it were a movie in an IMAX theater. The air filtered in through the helmet, and his wings flexed as he saw a tactical display show at the corner of his eye. It was showing coordinates for a destination to his left, letting him know that "T" had truly thought of everything.

With his mind made up, he went into a light jog in the direction of where the coordinates pointed him to. His jogging was swift, though slower than his dash at the Acklay from earlier. As he jogged, he found himself speeding through acres upon acres of green grass. At no point during his jog did he tire or feel his body ache. Such was the strength, endurance, and stamina of a Primarch's body. With barely anything to match them. As Corvinius jogged up a hill, he found himself coming to a halt and saw the elegant and ornate city in the distance. It looked wonderful and beautiful, it's craftsmanship befitting that of a human society. He could imagine that a city such as this would be seen as a jewel on a few worlds in Warhammer, though frowned upon due in part that there were no defenses.

If he so wanted, Corvinius alone could storm that city and kill ninety-five percent of the city's population with his abre hands. That was both because there was no one who could stop him from doing that in this city or on this planet. As well as he was a Primarch, or at least in the body of one.

Glancing up, Corvinius could faintly make out the distinct shapes of starships in orbit of the planet. They looked like donuts with one ball from a ballsack. His attention returned back to the city, before he began to trek down the hill that he had been standing on. His boots slammed into the grass like a raging elephant, he was going on a full sprint towards the city. His body traveled quickly to the main gate, headed straight towards it but found that it was closed. He even saw a few figures atop the wall that surrounded the city.

Corvinius could faintly make out them shouting at him. Though he didn't stop, he needed to get inside, and the best way to do that was by opening the gate, mainly. Continuing on his sprint, Corvinius arrived at the gate and moved his shoulder right into it. He felt the structure bend under his superior strength, the sound of metal creaking going off. Then, he backed up a few paces, braced himself, then dashed forward. He planted his boot heel against the gate and watched it begin to cave in. His boot print was left there. Then he did it again, and again, and again. Until eventually, he watched as the gate caved inwards before being burst open by one last kick. Corvinius could see the city on the other side, and more than a dozen burgundy uniformed men standing on the other side looking nervous. They had their weapons trained on him as he stepped through. They gazed up at him in awe and fear, their forms shaking as Corvinius looked at each of them.

They looked pitiful, easily terrified at the sight of him. Then again, he was a Primarch, and he had just showed them that he could literally kick a gate open. That was when he realized something, something that questioned his intelligence.

'Why didn't I just fly over the wall.'

He thought in wonder, then mentally facepalmed himself. His wings flexed once more as he let out a muttered sigh. He may have the body of a Primarch, but he unfortunately didn't have the mind of one.

One of the men, a dark skinned male, stepped forward with a tone of authority.

"Identify yourself! Who are you, and why did you storm into Theed!"

The man ordered, then found silence from Corvinius. Corvinius motioned his head so that he was looking at the man. He faintly remembered that this man was a bodyguard to Padme. With a mental shrug, he was fairly certain that the man was not important.

"Because the gate was closed."

Corvinius stated plainly, his helmet making his voice come out in an almost metallic and menacing tone. The men nearly flinched when having heard his voice. Corvinius, however, still felt a little embarrassed because if they weren't scared of him, they would he able to tell that he could have obviously flown over the wall. If they weren't so wary of him at the moment and thought rationally, that would have saved time rather than just kicking a gate inwards.

Corvinius' helmet had a notification pop up for him, showing red dots appearing behind at coordinates that kept changing. It was showing him that there were hostiles were approaching, Corvinius played enough first-person shooter games to understand that. Glancing back, the armored male saw that a convoy of Trade Federation droids and tanks were approaching the city.

"The reason that I am here is because it is due in part to the enemy that will be at your gates. I will hold our enemy here for as long as I am able, however you must begin evacuations of the city."

The man's expression shifted from confusion to stern before he spoke.

"I don't take orders from-"

I do not care who you take orders from or whom you serve. You WILL follow my orders at this time. You WILL evacuate the citizens. And you WILL keep your comments to yourself, is that understood?"

Corvinius snapped at the man, his tone even more menacing since he wasn't really in the mood for someone to give him lip. Though, the man was a little hard pressed to not listen to the armored male before him. Even then, he couldn't get a word in because the man turned and readied himself as the grip on his spear tightened. His wings flexed behind him, showcasing the majestic nature of them. Corvinius could hear the men behind him already rustling behind him. The sound of vehicles being moved or moving somewhere else could be heard. Though his attention remained ahead, staring at the army of machines headed his way. Corvinius was sure that he could take on this entire army alone with his bare hands if he wanted. His confidence stemmed not only from his new body's strength and power, but from what he knows about Primarchs. The only people who could pose a threat to him were all on the other side of the galaxy.

Just as the convoy of droids were getting closer to the caved in gate, a thought occurred for Corvinius, one that he hadn't thought about until now.

'How do I fly?'