2 A Captain’s Unwanted Reincarnation

In the celestial chamber where the gods convened, their voices resonated with the timeless wisdom of the cosmos as they debated the destiny of Varian Solus.

"Varian Solus, a soul of unyielding strength and virtue," spoke a god with eyes like galaxies. "But, to what realm shall we send him, where his incorruptible spirit may shine brightest?"

Another deity, her voice a gentle breeze that stirred the heavens, suggested, "What of the Warhammer 40k universe? In its crucible of conflict, his blazing soul will be a beacon of hope amidst the darkness."

The idea sparked a chorus of contemplation among the assembled gods, their forms aglow with the divine essence. None actually knew if this was a great idea.

As not too many souls even managed to find their way to the Realm of Tresaer. Let alone the Convention of Talk. The gods could not even remember the last soul that had appeared.

Amidst their thinking, one god proposed an idea. "But let us not send him unprepared," intoned a god whose voice echoed like the tolling of distant bells. "We must grant him boons, gifts that will strengthen with time and trial."

The gods looked up, delighted at this idea. Never had they given boons to a soul. Without hesitation, each god nodded in agreement, their countenances bright and resolute as they considered the nature of the boons to bestow upon Varian Solus.

"He shall be granted strength," declared a god with a voice like rolling thunder. "This soul will have strength that will grow with each battle fought, each obstacle overcome."

"And endurance," added another god with strange glowing monocle on her eye, her words a gentle caress upon the air. "His mortal body will heal from with each wound endured. Every battle fought, his battle spirit increases, allowing him to fight much longer than previously. None shall best him a second time."

"Oh, lovely idea, Sarieza. Let him be bestowed with knowledge," spoke a third god, his voice a whisper that carried the weight of prophecy. "Knowledge that will be implanted in his very soul about the universe he will soon join as though he knew it all his life. To which he already knew little of but will know in greater quantity."

"And," interjected a fourth god with an idex finger raised, his presence emanating an aura of cosmic power, "unparalleled psychic abilities."

This idea aroused shock within the gods. The Warp was in fact very dangerous for any mortal. With the soul's potential, being born or awakening a Psyker ability is none but guaranteed. Though the soul was very pure, it was still mortal and easily corrupted with time.

The cosmic god continues, "Let his mind be a conduit for the vast energies of the Warp, yet immune to its corrupting influence. May his powers remain hidden from daemons and entities that would seek to exploit them."

This statement made the gods stand in an ovation-style of applause. Today marks the first time in their incalculable history that they were able to make a consensus on a subject matter this quickly.

After their decree, the gods bestowed upon Varian Solus' soul the chosen boons, endowing him with their divine power. Their celestial essence will compel the universe to enact their wills, bringing their blessings to fruition within the soul and universe itself.

As Varian descended into the tumultuous realm of Warhammer 40k, he did not notice anything amiss as he traversed the void, completely unaware of what transpired or that he was even traveling.

Part of the boons of the gods take root within him, their power gradually growing and strengthening with each passing moment. A light glows in front of him and he instinctively walk into it.

A scene of going into warp space unfolds before Varian for a couple of seconds. Then, it soon stops and a planet a hundred times bigger than Earth floats before him. Varian is suddenly pulled down into and planet.

—

As Varian's consciousness gradually returned, he found himself confined within a glass tube filled with a swirling turquoise-green liquid that shimmered and glowed with an otherworldly luminescence.

The liquid gently embraced his small, fragile form, cradling him like a newborn in the womb of creation.

Beside him, the woman moved with a grace that seemed almost supernatural, her every movement fluid and precise. Her long, slender fingers danced across the surface of the tube, manipulating unseen controls with a deftness that shown a lifetime of mastery.

Varian's eyes flickered open, his vision blurred and hazy as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. The room pulsed with an otherworldly energy, the air thick with the scent of ozone and arcane incense.

As his gaze fell upon the woman, he saw her features begin to coalesce from the shadows, her face a portrait of serene beauty framed by cascading waves of ebony hair.

With a gentle smile, the woman turned her attention to Varian, her voice muffled as she spoke.

"By the Emperor, your are just magnificent. Hello, little one," she said, her words a soothing to the soul. "You have already passed the preliminary tests and the final procedure is underway. I feared my experiments would end in failure after 20 years of hard work."

Varian's mind reeled at her words, the realization dawning upon him that he was not dead.

His last memories were of dying during the terrorist attack. So, why was he here instead of in the afterlife?

'Am I in the future? Did they take my DNA and clone me for some top secret cloning program? Why am I in this glass tube?'

As the woman continued her work, Varian watched in awe as she wielded arcane instruments with a skill and precision.

That's when he then began observing the room itself to which Varian found himself confined within a sterile laboratory, its pristine surfaces a stark contrast to the grimy reality of the lower hive.

Varian saw that the room was brightly lit with harsh fluorescent lights, creating sharp shadows that he noticed changed shape as one moved around.

The air buzzed with the steady hum of machinery, occasionally punctuated by the beep of monitors and the hiss of pneumatic valves.

Rows of equipment adorned the walls, their picts displaying intricate diagrams and floating streams of data. This in turn created an atmosphere alive with technological activity.

A feeling slowly crept into his mind from the depths of his memories. The style of technology and even the type of metal the machines before him composed of seemed familiar.

'Why does this look like something in the Warhammer universe…' Varian doesn't finish that sentence as a series of memories of this body lodges themselves in his head.

Upon completely digesting the information in his head, Varian began to panic. So much so that he accidentally knocks away the oxygen mask from around his mouth and nose.

The fluid in th tube began pouring into his lungs through his mouth and nose. Varian panics even more. The lady turns around to see the commotion, only to yelp a second later after realizing the situation. She immediately runs to the main cogitator and hits a button.

The fluid within the tube quickly drains and Varian coughs and sputters water from his lungs with the help of the lady.

'F*ck!! I just transmigrated and almost died within five minutes. Just thinking about being here made me almost drown myself,' Varian says to himself, his head still reeling from the ordeal.

His vision quickly blurs as he loses consciousness, this revelation being too much for even a veteran such as himself to handle.

"Curious indeed, little one," the lady remarks, her tone a blend of scientific inquiry and concern. "According to the readings, you still have a few days remaining in the genetic recuperation chamber before you regain any consciousness. There shouldn't have been any errors."

With a gentle sigh, she carefully returns Varian to the chamber, observing his unresponsive state.

Swiftly, she operates the control console, adjusting settings and ensuring Varian's oxygen supply. As she seals the chamber, a reassuring click echoes, followed by the hiss of air.

Initiating the infusion process, she watches as the chamber fills with the familiar turquoise liquid. Monitoring the data stream, she breathes a sigh of relief at the reassuring results.

"With you as my creation, nothing in this universe will stop me. Soon, every xeno in this universe will fear… MANKIND!!"

She then paces the room while incomprehensible mutters escape her lips, accompanied by twitchings of her head and arms. This tells of a mental disorder and deep hatred of anything non-human.

About two and half hours pass before her mental episode breaks. She takes one last look at Varian before she leaves the room to let him continue his recovery undisturbed.

When three days had passed, the lady returns to see flashes of bright light on the pict, indicating a new development.

With a mixture of surprise and satisfaction, she meets Varian's gaze with her own intense emerald eyes.

"Ah, awake at last," she utters, a hint of triumph in her voice. "It seems my countless years of research have borne fruit…

Exterminus."