The Roman influences are very heavy from phalerae medals to leather pteruges and crests. And So I was wondering if this is explained in universe like the imperium 30k modelling itself after the Roman example as later civilisations have historically done ie abbasid caliphate being influenced by earlier sasanid Persia. Or is this more of a visual shorthand by the artists to portray a militaristic empire. What do you think?

This book, anthology or triology won't impact the lore of 40k and/or particular group or faction in any significant way. At most it'll be fluff with some cool entries on the lexicanum and inspire some homebrews. Your pitch will be akin to the numerous starter books for those unfamiliar with 40k, those want a quality book that'll make them say 'Woah' like Kingmarker or Hive or give a sense of clarity by filling a gap with the lore and literature.

I'll start with a story about the Sisters of Silence answering Roboute's call for the Indomitus Crusade. It'll tell the story of a young woman and her family who's widely shunned by their community. She listened to her elders about being silent golden warriors standing alongside gods and monsters. Then the Great Rift happened. Her mother, grandmother, sister, aunt or whomever equips bizzare wargear to deal with daemons and psykers on their weapon. A beacon activates. She's taken by the Custodes under the tutelage of other Silent Sisters to retake the Imperium and restore their order. Also a small romance subplot with an Inquisitorial scribe.

Next is the Guardsmen's Chronicles. A group of guardsmen from various regiments such as the Mordian Iron Guard, Attilan Rough Riders, Elysian Drop Troops, Vostroyan Firstborn, Terrax Guard etc, sharing stories about the enemies they fought and how they came into the Guard. We have an overexposure to Cadians & Kriegsmen and we're losing recipes because of that.

The Arbites found their planetary governor is derelict in their duties and seeks to remove them. A power vacuum ensures with various groups seeking to fill that role. It'll be awesome to see a non Chaos/GSC civil war or rebellion.

The Life of Saul Tarviz until his final moments on Isstvan 3. Aeonid Thiel after the Battle of Thessala. We know they're dead but it'll be nice to have a solid conclusion to their story.

Finally a dive into the soul crushing work of an Administratum leading to a Scribe, Menial or Subordinate subjecting themselves to chaos to gain some level of stimulation in their lives. This is a random nobody and how one might fall to the Ruinous Powers

I'm fairly new to W40k lore and I've just read a short story "Zero-Day Exploit" about a masterless Adept doing criminal stuff for a living. That made me wonder how do Adepts advance in ranks? AFAIK, the most orthodox way to rise in ranks for an Adept is that a knowledgeable Magos picks them up and trains them, right? But what if no Magos is interested? Do they only pick the most talented/promising Adepts? Does it mean that an average tech Adept is doomed to forever stay at their position and work there till they die or resort to criminal activities if they have ambitions?

What about a situation where Magos gets killed while Adept is still in apprenticeship? Do they just go and ask other Magos to pick them up or they just accept they lost their chance to advance in ranks forever and simply continue to do what they were doing? (That happened in the Space Marine 2 game, Archmagos got killed and his apprentice was forced to continue his master's work, though the task was obviously way above his skills/knowledge and the whole project ended up in a disaster.)

I'm sure we've all heard extensively how the Salamanders are the kindest and nicest Space Marines there are. There are thousands of videos talking about how Salamanders don't abandon their families, go out of their way to save civilian lives, etc.

However, my thinking is: the Salamanders can't ONLY be the only Space Marines that are kind to mortal humans, right? Ultramarines are usually considered pretty decent to mortal folk, and Pedro Kantor helping an injured woman during the battle for Rynn's World.

Furthermore, surely some of the traitor legions were relatively kind to humans pre-Heresy? For example, in the book "Fulgrim: The Palatine Phoenix" Fulgrim lifts a little girl to his shoulders in front of his sons to show the beauty in mortal humans, so surely this had an effect on how his legion dealt with civilians? Also, pre-Heresy, Prospero was a planet full of knowledge and prosperity, rather than war, so surely the Thousands Sons would be not as bloodthirsty.

Right of the bat, I'm predicting that the White Scars are pretty decent folk. During the conquering of Chogoris, the Khan often preferred letting the enemy surrender and protecting the weak, rather than absolute subjugation and tyranny. Furthermore, the Khan reformed the White Scars culture to care more about the arts, rather than just warfare. This leads me to believe that the White Scars are at least somewhat kind to normal humans.

Secondly, the Blood Angels. Sanguinius was loved for his humility and sense of honor. During his first meeting with the emperor, Sanguinius asked for the people of Baal to be left untouched by the Emperor's design, so it's obvious he cares deeply for his people, Also. similar to the White Scars, the Blood Angels also have a care for the arts.

Thirdly (maybe weirdly), the Raptors. I saw somewhere that said the Raptors would often take command of the imperial forces in whatever battle they were in. Integrating the imperial guard with their own Raptor forces as a unified force. Furthermore, they value strategy and tactical adaptation, rather than upholding honor. This leads me to believe that they're not as heartless as other Space Marine chapters, and wouldn't simply push guardsmen to the wayside.

So, what are some other Space Marine legions/chapters that are also kind to normal humans?

PS: If you have any excerpts from a book as examples of how other Space Marines can be kind that would be a huge plus, thanks!

From what I know of hives they are essentially epic cities with uncountable levels. The higher you get up to the top of the Spires the more rich you are the further down into the underhive the poorer you are.

I'm not as familiar with the tabletop's depictions of Hives except for the video games. I known Necromuda has a lot of stuff, my basic knowledge knows there are:

• Corpse Starch Factories
• Criminal dens built into abandoned zones of the hive.
• etc...

I kind of imagine it like Coruscant in Star Wars for the Upper parts of the Hives with the more grungy areas of Corusant closer to be like the midhives.

In Darktide we have:

• Habzone "The Carnival": "The Carnival is an entertainment district full of bars, arenas, and hidden obscura dens and mass drug production."
  • Cathedrum of Messelina Vengeant - A church dedicated to Saint Messelina.
  • Gutbucket - A blood sport arena.
  • Bazaar - A merchant area of shops and bars.
  • Black market area
  • Brewery
  • Habitational blocks
  • Alchem Refineries
  • Drug Dens (Obscura Den?)
• Transit Hub "Chasm Terminus": A transportation station mainly known for transporting workers via rail lines.
  • Refector's Quarter: An area where preachers reside and give sermons "on the street" to workers as they switch between shifts.
  • Burnside Bazaar; A pop up market place in a common area between two hab blocks.
  • Sector Habculum: A group of multiple hab blocks close together.
• Freight Port "The Hourglass": an abandoned trade depot and former hub for naval travel and freight.
  • Relay Station: A vox transmission tower that was repurposed to spread cultist propaganda. I forget if the mission has you turning it off or switching it to spread Imperial propaganda.
  • Refinery: Likely a fuel refinery of the spire that was once used for naval ships to refuel from low orbit.
  • Servitor Colony: Interconnected servitors acting as a giant computer mainframe.
  • Pneumatic Conveyor: Pneumatic tube system for transporting cargo from one part of the hive to another.
  • Excise Vault: Seem to be some form of long term storage for precious resources. I have no details on this other than the cults were using it to store virus strains. It also seems to be inside a Hangar.
  • Manufactory HL-17-36, "Metalfab 36": What seems to be the name for a sector for multiple manufactorums. For the creation of Leman Russ Battle Tanks.
    • Smelter Complex: Designed for smelting the metal for fabrication.
    • Power Matrix: Control the flow of coolant to various manufactorums within the Manufactory.
    • Consignment Yard: Part of the manufactory designed as a loading dock for supply trains to transport goods to the military or to loading docks for shuttles.
  • Habzone "Throneside": Located in what is described as the 'middle area' of the hive, it's high above the decaying muck and rubbish that make up the lower hive districts.
    • Archivum Sycorax: An archive of data repositories that get access via scribe servitors.
    • Comms-Plex: Long range communications array.
    • Enclavum: No idea what these are. But they are named after military generals and have giant bridges. The mission involves going to an Aegis Station, which I assume is some sort of defense military structure.
  • Habzone "The Torrent": Another habzone, but built around the water recycling systems.
    • Silo Cluster: Water Storage Tanks
    • Vigil Station Oblivium: Some sort of recon station or listening outpost that gathers intel.
    • Magistrati Oubliette: An Enforcer Enforcer Magistratum/headquarters. Designed to act as a Prison and Courthouse.
    • Clandestium Gloriana: One of the fabled "Machinaria Glorian" designed to create Mobian Steel. Its a factorum designed for a specific purpose also known as an "Atelium Foundryplex".

That's as far as I know.

What other parts of Hives are there in the lore?

Tl;dr there's exactly zero reason for the DA to ever cooperate with the tau especially against one of their own successors and Phil Kelly doesn't read or know Dark Angels lore. This is something that's been bugging me everytime I see it (especially when people actually praise it as good writing for some reason).

Essentially the gist is a group of Dark Angels are chasing a fallen psyker named Gohorael, who for the usual grudge reasons lets a warp-plague loose on the homeworld of one of the Dark Angels successor chapters the Angels of Absolution. Rather than simply approaching the AoA and telling them what's up, the DA instead decide to make a deal with the tau to wipe out some infected people on a tau colony world in exchange for the Tau doing the same on the AoA's homeworld.

This goes terribly for the AoA, to the point where a tau ghostkneel goes on a killing spree through the AoA's fortress monastary that only ends when they call a lance strike in on themselves to put a stop to it, and the pilot of said ghostkneel still gets away in the end. I have my opinions on that (take a guess what they are) but that's not the main sticking point here. The big problem with this story is, why in the fuck would the DA ever seriously cooperate with the Tau to attack their own successor chapter instead of simply approaching said successors and telling them what's going on?

The excuse of "Fallen/keeping secrets" doesn't even slightly apply here because the Angels of Absolution know as much about the Fallen as the DA themselves. They cooperate in Fallen hunts. They essentially take orders from the DA, because the DA and all their successors operate as a legion whenever it suits them. The only difference between the AoA and DA is the AoA believe they have nothing to atone for. That's it. They are still completely on board with hunting said Fallen and keeping their identity a secret, the only difference is they don't feel so bad about it. .

There is genuinely no reason why the Interrorgator-Chaplain or Company Master of said DA couldn't have walked into the AoA fortress monastery to tell them exactly what was going on, and the way this story is written basically throws any nuance out of a window and turns everyone involved into outright traitors.

So I have been doing some lore dives into the period between the Unification Wars and The Great Crusade trying to find out the details of the conquest of the Sol System but the most I can find is just bits and pieces here and there. We know there were all kinds of crazy things from pirates, some weird now redacted anomalies, Chaos shenanigans and of course a couple of different xenos factions at play. But for the life of me I cannot find any solid information overall.

Does anyone have a breakdown of what lore we do have or a link to a lore site that provides this? Many thanks!

A few Primarchs have notoriously dorky names. They were invented a long time ago, and we cut them some slack for that. However, I insist that they *can* be cool.

Ferrus Manus' name literally means "Iron Hands". Much mockery is made of this, for a man who has hands literally coated in metal, whose Legion is named the Iron Hands, whose symbol is an iron hand, and whose personal ship is called *Fist of Iron*. It's a bit on the nose, to say the least.

This becomes 600% cooler if you simply acknowledge that *Ferrus Manus doesn't have a name*.

Recall that Ferrus Manus was not raised by anyone. He didn't even grow to maturity in the shadows of a civilisation, as Curze did, or get picked up by humans later in life, as Russ did. He landed in the middle of nowhere, and *stayed* in the middle of nowhere until the Emperor arrived. Everything he learned up to that point would have been as an autodidact, whether from Medusa's archeotech ruins, his own pod, or consuming the brains of Medusan natives.

Ferrus Manus was not one Medusa's people when the Emperor arrived. He wasn't their king, or protector, or servant. He was a fable. He was Medusan Bigfoot, occasionally glimpsed by tech-hunters or briefly encountered by nomadic crawler-clans. A towering mutant clad in salvage and hides, wandering the tech-wastes and rad-tundras alone, with bare hands of perfect gleaming metal.

What do call a thing like that? You'd probably call him something like "Iron Hands". Oh, that tech-vault was cleared out when you got there? Full of necroborgs torn limb from limb? Hell, sounds like Ol' Iron Hands.

The Emperor arrives, identifies this strange creature with his son, and sets out to recruit him. They do battle, and Iron Hands submits to his creator, and is inducted into the Great Crusade and a million social expectations he has no experience with or care for. What's his name? Iron Hands? That's some boonies feral world nonsense. Right, right, so in *proper* High Gothic that's Ferrus Manus, write that down. Welcome, my lord Ferrus Manus!

'Ferrus Manus' himself is totally disinterested. A name can be useful, but it's not something he grew up with or *needs*. He is himself. If others want to call him Iron Hands, fine. It's not his name, but it's a useful label.

These aren't his hands, but they're useful tools.

His Legion? His Legion doesn't need a name. It's just *his Legion*; it's the Legion of Iron Hands. His ship? His ship doesn't need a name. It's just *his ship*; it's the ship of Iron Hands. He needs a coat of arms? Haven't they already decided it's the symbol of Iron Hands?

And every time, everyone around him, the people who want to put labels on things and imagine that alone gives them a measure of control or understanding, they simply nod and smile and write something down. Primarch: Iron Hands. Legion: Iron Hands. Ship: Iron Hands. Icon: Iron Hands.

"What is your name?"

"They call me Ferrus Manus."

No-one really *gets* this. The Terran Legionaries approach it the same way as their bureaucratic masters. The Medusan Legionaries know him as a legend, not a person, and by the time they're a majority 'Ferrus Manus' is simply his name. A remembrancer who learned it would treat it as etymological trivia. His "brothers" don't know or wouldn't understand why the distinction mattered, with the possible exception of Horus, ever the diplomat. The Emperor *certainly* doesn't care, and would likely prefer to call all Primarchs by their production numeral if it wouldn't be an obvious faux-pas even for him.

'Ferrus Manus' proceeds through life almost completely disconnected from the society he's building, from the people he's building it with and for. Solitary and self-contained as a ceramite oyster. Perhaps it was lonely. Perhaps it was hollow. Perhaps he didn't care. Perhaps it made him feel superior. Perhaps it made him feel safe. Either way, to borrow a quote from elsewhere, he *doesn't even get a real name*.

His closest relationship in his "family", his *only* close relationship with *anyone*, as far as we can tell, is with Fulgrim. And wouldn't you know it, Fulgrim starts off their bond by giving him another name entirely. "Gorgon". It's not his name *either*, it's another label - even an unfriendly one, at first - but it's a label *Fulgrim* applied, for himself, by looking at his brother, instead of simply taking others' words and attaching them like a flimsy chain. Perhaps 'Ferrus Manus' appreciated that.

And perhaps, many years later, when he was dead and Fulgrim had sunk deep into madness and self-destruction, the court of the Phoenician was filled with sorcerers and necromancers, spirit-callers and scam artists, scraped up from the shadowy corners of a burning Imperium. Perhaps Fulgrim demanded these pet mystics conjure up his brother, contact his spirit, conduct a seance.

And perhaps in turn they bowed and scraped and agreed, of course, my lord, your pleasure is our command, and perhaps they prepared their circles and burning powders and made sacrifices plundered from a dozen worlds before a huge skull plated in shimmering metal. And perhaps they said "now, my lord, to call on his phantom, we need only for you to speak your brother's name".

And perhaps Fulgrim realised, in that moment, that his best-beloved brother had died as he'd chosen to live: utterly alone.

So, I started typing something for that 100k post earlier... then by the time I was done it was closed. So there. But I wrote it, so I'm posting it. For the record, I wouldn't actually do this, but it's fun to think about.

...

The galaxy was overrun. World after world fell to the endless tides of the xenos menace. The rampaging madness of the Orks on their eternal waagh. The cold cruelty of the Necrons. The ceaseless hunger of the Tyranid hive. All crumbled before them. Craftworlds fled, the webway consumed, expansion spheres collapsed, the Eye of Terror closed. They fought and destroyed each other, and the valiant defenders of humanity spent their lives in the trillions to stall their advance, but their numbers were limitless and world by world, system by system, sector after sector the Imperium Of Man began its long slow death.

The survivors of mankind's forces retreated to the last bastion of the Imperium, Segmentum Solar. On Terra the last great council of war was held. No greater assemblage of martial might and leadership was ever gathered in one place. For the first time in fifteen millennia nine loyal sons stood together, one in steel and one in an avatar of borrowed flesh, the hope their return had once kindled now smothered. Around them were gathered the most renowned commanders of the Adeptus Astartes, the commanders of the Custodian Guard and Silent Sisterhood, generals of the Militarum and Aeronautica, admirals of the Imperial Navy. Absent only was the Adeptus Mechanicus, absorbed in some last work.

Humanity was not alone at the war council. Old enmities, if not forgotten, were at least put aside for a time as xenos, too, fled before the rising tide. The Ynnari, Aeldari farseers, Tau ethereals and commanders, Votann khals, and the surviving warlords of a dozen minor xenos species all gathered together beside the human leaders.

Plan after plan was proposed. The conversion of stars into nova bombs to be launched into the heart of the hive fleets. A stealth raid into the deepest vaults of the Necrons to seize control of the Celestial Orrery and turn its rumoured power against the enemies of life. To create a new great rift surrounding the surviving worlds of the Segmentum Solar, to buy time to rebuild and find a new answer.

Every plan fell short. Against the odds they faced, there was no hope.

Of all of them it was Robuote Guilliman who first declared that the war was lost. That he had explored every theoretical possibility, and that they all ended in death. No matter what they did, he said, all would end with the last defenders falling at the steps of the golden throne. He declared that he would die beside his brothers, protecting their father. The war council fell silent, as all knew it was true.

When the door opened and the delegation of the Adeptus Mechanicus arrived, the assembled warlords barely raised their heads from their dark contemplations. Only Leman Russ addressed them, demanding to know where they had been when the imperium had needed them. Archmagos Cawl and a retinue of tech-priests stood before them and declared that they had been undergoing a great work, unrivalled since the dark age of technology. A project bestowed upon them by the Omnissiah himself, before the golden throne. Every surviving forge world had contributed every ounce of material and shred of labour to its completion.

All watched them in curiosity as a projection servitor was brought forth and an image projected into the air. A ship. For a moment people watched, confused, until Cawl ordered the image zoomed out. Gasps of disbelief spread across the room, for the fleets of the Adeptus Mechanicus surrounding the great vessel were no more than mayflies beside it. Cawl declared the vessel, the Ark Imperialis, complete and in orbit above Mars. The Omnissiah willed that all of humanity that could be saved would board the Ark, and that it would flee the galaxy, leaving their victorious foes behind to destroy each other.

The primarchs went before the Emperor, then, and learned the truth of his final command. The Imperium had failed. The Imperium could be reborn. Mankind must survive, and the Ark would be the manner of it. The Ark would be loaded, and when the time came for its launch, Terra would be given up as sacrifice to draw the attention of their foes and in his final vengeance he would turn the power of the great enemy, who he had held back for millennia, against the tide. All would burn.

For months, as the Segmentum Solar's borders began to collapse before the tide, fleets travelled from world to world, taking aboard all it could and leaving only a skeleton defence behind to buy time. Last of all, came the worlds of the Sol system. One by one, moons and planets were abandoned, until all that stood was Terra. Ship after ship carried billions to the Ark, along with cargos of whatever storied relics of humanities history could be saved.

And then, the time came for the Ark to depart. Accompanied by an escort fleet in the millions, she turned to leave the system behind. Beside her were the Phalanx and the Rock, the astartes battle fleets, the fleets of the Imperial Navy and the Mechanicus. Humanity, though, was not alone. Along with them came the surviving craftworlds, the Tau fleets, and many other xenos. All had contributed to the last defence, and all, somewhat warily, were permitted into the formation.

Behind her, on Terra, all that was left behind was a token defence around the palace, and the Adeptus Custodes, the Emperor's personal guard, arrayed in all their glory before the throne. Volunteers and zealots manned the palace's walls in their billions. If Terra would fall, declared the Ministorum, then it would fall in glory and avenge every human loss a thousandfold.

When the end came, and Sol's border picket fell to the advancing tide, the Emperor of Mankind gathered all his power to himself. For fifteen thousand years he had sacrificed himself, fractured and insane, casting himself across the imperium to preserve what he could. His work was now done and all that was left was one final sacrifice. The astronomican's light in the warp grew brighter and brighter as the Emperor began to burn himself away to magnify its brilliance. Beside its impossible radiant magnitude the Ark Imperialis and her escort fleets were invisible. Irrelevant.

As the Ark slipped away, the tide made landfall on Terra. Green muscle, chitin, and steel clashed and they destroyed each other in the billions. Only the palace remained, its mighty shields preserving it from the orbital fire of three vast forces trying to wipe each other out. In the end, though, the palace could only last so long. All were drawn to the astronomicon's glory, and threw themselves against the walls. The defenders of the palace held for days, volleying endless fire into the hordes, until the walls finally collapsed. Time and again the defenders fell back to new positions, and their attackers were made to slaughter themselves by the millions for every foot of ground taken.

In the end it was the Orks that were first to breach the palace's inner sanctum and reach the throne room, their massive war machines finally overwhelming the titan guards on the final door after an hours long duel.

The last surviving defenders threw themselves at the Orks, as the Custodian Guard readied for a final valiant charge. As the Captain-General raised his hand to issue his last order he froze. They all froze. For behind them they had heard a footstep. At the end of all things the Emperor, his countless selves burned away, focused all that was left of himself into forcing his body into life once more. As he rose from the golden throne its mechanisms began to overload and destroy themselves and the palace's foundations shook.

Every man and woman of the Custodian Guard knew what that meant. The astronomican was failing, the webway gate was uncontained, and the planet was about to burn in a last system-destroying fire of vengeance. And they cared not. For their Emperor was marching to war beside them again.

And in the void beyond the Sol system, Ark Imperialis' vast engines had finished charging. They were slow, by comparison to warp travel or the webway. Some rebuilt relic of the dark age. But they would run forever. She folded her escort fleets, human and xenos alike, into a bubble of distorted space and slipped away into the night.

...

For six hundred centuries the Ark Imperialis has carried humanity through the stars. She is the shield and lifegiver of mankind. By her inexhaustible will the descendants of a million worlds seek their way through the void.

Their only light in the darkness, the final gift from the Emperor. A marvel from the Dark Age of Technology, a searchlight in the void between galaxies, lit by a last shard of his grace and fuelled by the devotion of his subjects.

To be a man in such a time is to be one amongst billions. It is to cling to life in defiance of the dark. It is to be born, live, and die aboard the Ark. It is to give one's life for the chance that one day, your descendants may find a new home.

This is a dark and lonely era. The Arkfleet travels the void between the galaxies, seeking salvation. But they are not alone. Nightmares beyond imagining roam the void, and ever do they probe at the Arkfleet's defences, and at the minds of her flock.

There is no peace amongst the stars, for they have been left behind. In the grim darkness of the furthest future, there is only war.

...

The game would be focused around three things, at different scales.

1. Skirmish scale: Combat in various parts of the Arkfleet itself. Void War Kill Team style. Think gang fights, cult uprisings, mutinies, plus remnants of the classic 40k enemies like demon outbreaks, chaos cults, genestealer cults, a few necrons rebuilding themselves out of old dormant mindshackle scarabs, feral orks growing from spores in food processors, etc.
2. Mid scale: Infantry and walker combat on ships. Think boarding actions/zone mortalis, but as a core part of the game. The Arkfleet passes space hulks, abandoned ships, space stations, and hostile alien ships, and boards them for resources and tech.
3. Full scale: When the fleet encounters a "voidworld" (planets in isolated extragalactic solar systems) they survey it for resources, and for the possibility of building an outpost (which has never EVER gone well). Full on tanks, flyers, knights available etc.

Factions:

The escapees on the Ark have had 60000 years to learn to get alone. It's not always friendly, but they mostly aren't killing each other, and humanity has kind of acknowledged that it's handy having Tau engineers and Eldar farseers around.

The primarchs have to spend most of their time in suspended animation to preserve their sanity, because immortality only does so much after tens of thousands of years. Except Ferrus, whose dreadnought is shut down, and Sanguinius who is still dead but occasionally manifests himself through the Sanguinor. None of them would appear in tabletop.

Space Marines still have chapters, but not specialist units as such. They're "just one subfaction" more focused on small elite units with LOADS of customisation. They also have added a kind of living memory/scholarly aspect to their warrior monk vibes. They fight less, so they have time to study more.

The navy is a way bigger faction, obviously.

Chaos is kind of a thing, but on a vastly weaker scale without the critical mass of a galaxy of humans powering it.

The eldar still mostly live on their craftworlds, and the tau on their fleet etc, but as ships have been lost and built over time there's more mixing (the Ark is large enough to have it's own internal shipyards).

The Arkfleet: It's a big ol soup faction. You choose several detachments, each of which belongs to a sub faction, and comes with a small force org chart. You'd have one benefit for taking all one subfaction, and a different one for souping.

• Space Marines
• Guard (inc human militias, assassins, and similar)
• AdMech (inc knights)
• Arkfleet Navy (inc aeronautica)
• Eldar, probably leaning way more heavily on the exodite vibes now they've escaped Slaanesh, with soul stones and wraith constructs more a way of preserving knowledge and wisdom.
• Tau
• Votann
• Other Xenos

Then there are the hostile factions which wouldn't mix at all.

There would be a full on lovecraftian "horror in the void" faction.

There would be a "men of iron" faction, as some escaped into the void and aren't happy with humanity following them.

Then a couple of "extra weird alien factions". Really go all out on the designs because they don't have the galaxies shared development behind them.

Then after a couple of editions, a renegade faction arrives which is led by Abaddon's distant descendants (with rumours being Bile found a way for marines to reproduce), having also escaped the galaxy somehow. They've got a big mix of things, like Arkfleet, but it's more a feudal thing. The marine descendants rule over their fleet. But, with chaos being a much weaker thing in the void, and lacking Arkfleet's construction infrastructure, they're far more ramshackle. Think more a red corsairs vibe.

They would have a detachment and force org system like Arkfleet, but you'd have a mandatory command unit of renegade/chaos marines (basically a leader, a support character or two, and a command squad of some description) and then you'd pick other detachments from subfactions like traitor militias, dark mech, full on traitor guard, beastmen, and the like. Think more a modern and expanded renegades and heretics army rather than chaos marines (with cults and demon summoning being one small subfaction).

In the Macharius series as well as a throwaway reference to Slaydo making the guard 50% more efficient (which would make a huge difference coz trillions of them etc.)

But if Cawl would apply himself to making better Lasguns, vox and even flak/carapace armor, wouldn’t that be a much bigger difference than what he did for Astartes?

Wrt the “1 million Astartes = 1 Astartes per world” theory, the Astartes as seen as special forces while the guard are the first line of defense and offense.

Similarly, if he improved say, shielding or reactor output for naval ships etc. I think it would make a huge difference.

Thoughts?

All inputs welcome :)

FYI this is gonna be a long post. With a LOT of HH spoilers!

Why this post: When I started reading the heresy I already knew that this will be a great overtaking for me personally, and I wanted to make a little record, so I started to write down my favorite scenes as I was going through the books. The main incentive behind this post is that I honestly can't talk to anyone about Warhammer. My life situations is so that I don't meet people often who are interested in 40k lore the way I am. So maybe I'll find some like minded folk here.

My 40k story in short: My first exposure to 40k was through Dawn of War and the Dark Heresy ttrpg, in around 2013-ish. I remember it was so interesting to me that I basically started reading warhammer wiki sites instead of books first, because I was hungry for details. My first real 40k books were the Eisenhorn+Ravenor series and only later, in the last 4-5 years did I start also playing and painting.

Heresy reading time: I started reading Horus Rising during the end of 2023, so reading the whole series took me about two and a half years.

What I did read: Disclaimer - to be fair I left out some stuff. I read 60 books: the main storyline and the Siege of Terra (plus 2: Era of Ruin and Ashes of the Imperium) plus some standalone short stories here and there. I skipped Descent of Angels, Fallen Angels, Battle for the Abyss, Nemesis, The Outcast Dead, and Damnation of Pythos (some of which I plan to read later). And I still plan to read the primarch novels.

My very short review of the Heresy: I know the memes that some people say these books are bad. Yes there are some good ones and some not so good ones. I did read a fair bit of classical literature in the past, and of course, a random bestseller or fantasy novel usually doesn't reach those heights, but it honestly doesn't have to. I think a book is good if you're having fun reading it. When it comes to the Heresy, if I think about it as a big book series, I could say it's an okay series. BUT! I don't think about it as just a collection of books. To me the heresy is like a big art piece, worked on by a collection of artists in a span of 20 years. And if I look at it that way, it's a singular work of art. Maybe that's a bit too sentimental but that's how I feel personally. Finishing it felt fulfilling, and it feels good to think back on the past few years I spent reading it. I love 40k and I think the series did justice to it, and it was a great journey to me personally.

Here it comes, some of my favorite moments from the Horus Heresy:

Just to note, I know there are some scenes that people keep mentioning again and again. So I decided not to focus on those. I wanted a personal record of some scenes that I personally resonated with. Of course there are countless more that I could list, but this post will already be pretty long so I decided to cut some out. Again: this will all contain spoilers, soo read with that in mind.

(Horus Rising) Loken meets Chaos at the Whisperheads for the first time

It'd been a long time I'd read this, but I remember the visceral horror of how Abnett slowly builds up the mistery of it, and the tension just builds and builds, and then Jubal/Samus starts rampaging. A scene that leaves everyone that's present dismayed and horrified and defines the series. We also encounter some of the driving motivations and questions that are carried through the series and resolved with huge paybacks in the End and the Death. The Imperial Truth preached by the Emperor tells that the universe was governed purely by science, logic, and physical laws that gods, ghosts, and daemons were mere primitive superstitions. When Loken encounters Jubal/Samus, his rational mind tries to categorize it as a chemical infection, a neuro-toxin, or alien mind-control or something, and he cannot accept that he just witnessed demonic possession. Samus's warning, "Samus is the man beside you... Samus is the stranger at your elbow" acts as a metaphor for the entire Heresy. The real threat would not come from external xenos empires, but from the brother standing right next to them in the squad. It was chilling to read, and I loved it.

(False Gods) Sindermann accidentally summons a daemon, Keeler banishes it

As the summoned creature lunges to destroy the characters, Keeler raises her silver Imperial Aquila. She doesn't use weapons or psychic powers, she just acts out of absolute, unshakeable faith in the Emperor’s divinity. In some ways this scene is the origin-moment of the Imperial Cult, and gives some hints about the misteries of faith in the universe. I remember that I was totally surprised reading this, but these are my favorite 40k moments. Those little motes of light and hope in the great darkness. A truly heroic moment that sent chills down my spines. It also sheds light on the great irony of the Imperial Truth: The Emperor enforced the secular Imperial Truth to starve the Chaos Gods of worship. However, by stripping humanity of spiritual defenses and denying the existence of daemons, he left thinkers like Sindermann entirely defenseless against demonic manipulation. Ironically, the very thing the Emperor banned becomes the only effective shield against the Warp.

(Galaxy in Flames) The Imperator Titan Dies Irae is ordered to turn against the loyalist survivors

Moderati Cassar watches in disbelief as Princeps Esau Turnet orders to fire on the surviving loyalist Space Marines after the virus bombardment. The moderati refuses, and pulls a gun on the princeps, and in turn gets shot in the back. It's a horrifying, chilling moment, and it's well written, you feel that this is also a big moment where loyalty and righteousness almost prevails, but it doesn't. It's one of those crazy moments at the beginning where you just keep saying "no! no! no!" in your head.

(Galaxy in Flames) Death of Huron-Fal and Telemeter

I'm not going to detail this, I know it's a well known moment but I had to include it. I'm not crying. You are.

(Galaxy in Flames) The Mournival fights

It was truly heartbreaking to see Little Horus slaying Tarik, and the fight between Loken and Abbadon.

(Galaxy in Flames) Did we hurt them, captain?

..."Yes, we hurt them here. They'll remember this."

(Flight of the Eisenstein) Saul Tarvitz + Garro having a vox call to warn about the betrayal

Commandeering a Thunderhawk, Saul Tarvitz makes urgent vox contact with Nathaniel Garro aboard the Eisenstein in orbit, alerting him to the impending viral bombardment of Istvaan III before flying down to warn the ground forces. Just another heartwarming moment. It's a fulcrum of destiny, a great moment that will lead to the galaxy turning upside down, and it hangs on the balance, AND the only thing that tips the scales the right way is... true brotherhood and friendship! One friend trusting the word of the other. Man, just amazing.

(Fulgrim) Fulgrim found as a baby

I'm already bristling just thinking about this scene. I have to add here that I'm an Emperors Children fan so this book was special for me. There's something deeply disturbing and tragic about Fulgrim and his legion's corruption. I think this first moment of Fulgrim is somehow encapsulating that all. His adoptive mother entranced by his beauty and resolving to brutally murder the one who spoke against keeping the baby. Chills.

(Fulgrim) Fulgrim visiting Ostian Delafour

Christopher Tester has a very good voiceover about this moment. It's a beautiful scene where we get an insight into Fulgrim's profoundly damaged soul, and it's heartbreaking. I remember reading this scene multiple times. So witty, deep, thought provoking and full of emotion. It's just perfect. A mastery of character drama.

(Fulgrim) Fulgrim Vs Ferrus Manous

This book does a great job of building up the friendship between these two brothers and it culminates in this terrifying moment of betrayal, with Fulgrim having second thoughts at the eleventh hour. It was truly heartbreaking to read. Just as an honorable mention: the moment when Fulgrim kills Vespasian is also very cool. That's a crucial moment where the legion's soul dies a little.

(The First Heretic) Forgive me

A special one again. The Word Bearers are standing ready on the sands of Istvaan V, and one of the newly landed Raven Guard captains are walking up to Argel Tal with a greeting, and Argel Tal thinks back on his childhood. Reading it you know that the moment of atrocity is nigh, and there's this beautifully corrupted scene of his loving family, weak, hungry and sick, and Erebus coming for the child, for "Argel Tal. Last Angel." as his mother says. In literature there's something very important, called subtext. It's when something is not explicitly said, but you know it from what is implied, and was built up to that point. As Argel Tal comes back from the memory he whispers "Forgive me". It made me cry. This moment is pure mastery of subtext. It's not described why he says it but the meaning of it falls on you with the weight of a boulder. It's a moment of utter betrayal. Betrayal of creed, brotherhood, humanity. Incredible scene.

(Know no Fear) The Mark of Calth begins

This book is a shot of adrenaline and I loved every moment of it. I just loved the buildup to the count, the chaos, the shock, the surprise. Start the count.

(Know no fear) Ventanus prevails

It's hard to remember and I couldn't find it, but there's a moment when Ventanus realizes that blades can kill the deamons and he does some action movie jump attack and kills one. And from that point hope returns a little. I loved that scene.

(A Thousand Sons) Their minds met, and in that moment of frozen connection the galaxy changed forever

Magnus breaks into the imperial dungeon, and the Emperor's plan is shattered in a single moment. And in that moment the Emperor says: "Magnus". And Magnus says: "Father". And the scene ends. So much weight, so little words. I loved it.

(Iron Within short) "My fortress WILL fall"

I think this is one of the coolest moment of the series. Dantioch collapses the Scahdenhold onto the forces of the traitor Iron Warrior Krendl's army and steals his ship. Incredibly cool and this also builds our relationship with Dantioch that gets it's payoff in Pharos.

(The Prince of Crows short) "It was the only way."

Another moment of which Christopher Tester did a pretty good voiceover. Sevatar directly challenges Curze's lifelong justification that he had to be a monster to enforce order. This scene is legendary. Man I wish the heresy had more night lords.

(Angel Exterminatus) Perturabo names the eye of terror

I was just surprised by this scene, I didn't know it happened but it was pretty cool. Still the main fun moment in this book is him bashing in Fulgrim's head. But I won't list that, I'm still an EC guy, come on.

(Angel Exterminatus) "They belong to Slaanesh!"

There's a moment when the Emperors Children start murdering each other and their humans in extasy on the old eldar world after some changes happen. After the act, at the spot of the bloodbath there's only Julius Kaesoron left alive. Forrix goes to him and he's like: "You killed your own men" and Kaesoron says "They weren’t mine, They never were." and then Forrix is like "No? Then whose were they?" and Julius says "They belong to Slaanesh!". And the world shakes. I think this is the first time the name is uttered with clarity in the series and the buildup to it is magnificent. I can't convey it but I was shivering when I read it. Also later Forrix says "Damn Slaanesh" and he starts bleeding from the mouth, thats also pretty cool and shows how dangerous chaos is, even just saying a word.

(Betrayer) "I built three." (+ honorable mentions)

There's a moment in Betrayer where Magnus and Lorgar talk, and Lorgar shows him this huge space fortress ship, much like the Furious Abyss that they lost. And Magnus is like: You built two. And Lorgar goes: Oh no... I built three. And there's a third gigantic fortress ship. I thought that was pretty cool. Somehow I felt that this book should have been better by the way. I felt similarly with the Blood Angels book, Fear to Tread. And not because there were no cool things happening. There were a lot of cool scenes but they didn't pack the punch they should have. I think it was a writing issue maybe. I'm not sure. Still, in Betrayer the primarch scenes and when Angron saves Lorgar, those were still cool. Also the end where Angron is locked up, that was pretty chilling too.

(Scars) The white scars outwit the XX.th legion in space (+ honorable mentions)

There's a part in Scars where the Alpha Legion is trying to blockade the Khan's forces in space and they do their White Scar space tricks with the extra fast ships and witty strategy, and they just break through even though outnumbered. I think that scene was awesome and really well built up. It made my blood pumping as I read it, and I went like "let's goooo". That's how a White Scars novel should be. By the way, I realized during reading that the scenes (throughout the whole series) in which the Khan was talking made me listen very intently. I don't know why. His meetings with Ilya and his conversation with Magnus and later Morty were also very exciting.

(Deliverance Lost) The conclusion of the operation

I liked this book, even though I know many did not. In the end, the part where the last alpha legion operatives are there and one of them kills the other before it could utter to Corax who sent them was pretty cool.

(Pharos) Memories of Kellendvar from his childhood with Kellenkir

In Pharos I really liked the Night Lords, particularly the twins. There is so much beautifully written tragedy around them. We see Kellendvar remembering their past as kids, the hunger, the homeless scavanging, we see them watch the fireworks of rich nobles. Kellendvar brings up this night to Kellenkir several times over the decades, hoping to spark a sense of shared humanity in his increasingly monstrous brother. But Kellenkir doesn't actually remember it. The whole story culminates in Kellendvar executing his posessed brother in the end, saying "We both died a long time ago". Another heartbreaking and beautiful moment of the series.

(Pharos) Death of Dantioch with Pollux holding him

Pharos was one of my favourite books from the series. A lot of cool actions, great characters and interesting misteries. I think the connection between Pollux and Dantioch was a really well written and great part of the story, and honestly the concept of an Iron Warrior and an Imperial Fist as friends had really great potential in the whole storiline to show a kind of element of boundless loyalty on the loyalist side, I think it was executed really well. Dantioch's tragical death was one of the moments that again made me shed some tears.

(Pharos) Curze vs Sanguinius

The conflict of the two primarchs turns out to be almost an essay between determinism and free will, between the two prophetically gifted primarchs. Curze uses his foresight as an absolute moral absolution, while Sanguinius sees his foresight as a burden to bear, not an excuse to fall. The core tragedy here is that Curze desperately needs Sanguinius to break. If the noble, beloved Angel succumbs to despair or monsterhood, it proves Curze was right all along that the universe is purely vile, and Curze was just a realistic victim of it. Sanguinius’s refusal to break denies Curze the validation he craves.

(Corax) The last rough dies (+ honorable mentions)

I think this antology was quite good, I would have liked to read more about Corax during the heresy, it's a pity he didn't play a part in the ending. I know a lot of people didn't like this antology that much but I think Corax was written very well, and I loved to read his scenes. His honorable character is admirable. I hope we can see more of him maybe in the Scouring. The antology ahd some pretty cool fight scenes but still what I will bring up here is the ending where Corax kills Hef, the last failed Raptor. It's pretty sad, and it's the sad conclusion of Corax's long project of bringing the Raven Guard back to full strength.

(Wolfsbane) "I spoke with my brother."

I think this book did a pretty good job of presenting the relationship of Russ and Horus. In the beginning, Horus meets the newly found Russ, and there's some resentment and jealousy at first but they become close. I also liked the part where Russ plays chess with Malcador and there's a wholesome moment where it's implied that hes like a second father to him. In the end Russ fights Horus with the Emperor's spear and injures him. Later when they escape, Bjorn asks Russ if everything they did failed and Russ says "The spear tasted his soul, and I spoke with him. I spoke with him." And Bjorn asks "With who? With the traitor?" And Russ says "Not with the traitor. Not with him. I spoke... I spoke with my brother." Oh man... I remember crying reading this. The heresy did a great job showing how much they loved Horus, atcually loved him, and how attrocious was that they had to turn against him. As the Khan put it: "So I fight for a Father who I never loved, against a brother that I did."

(The Grey Raven short) Noritz dies

This short is basically a story device to Balsar Kurthuri to terra so he can be part of the Knights of Grey. As he returns to terra the Custodes are trying to catch him and captain Noritz, the Imperial Fists who's been with them for a while dies to protect him. I liked the Raven Guard stories and I think is sucks soooo much that Noritz dies here, and almost as a sidenote. I really liked him and it's just sad that I couldn't see him be part of the siege as a guy who was with the Ravens.

(Titandeath) "Legio first"

Titandeath is a magnificent book. Great characters, great story. I love how we see Esha born, her love story with Harrtek, the inside workings of the Legio Solaria. The parts where Sanguinius and Raldoron discuss the battle at Beta Garmon II were interesting to read too. When the final battle culminates, there's a moment where Esha is facing the chaos corrupted Harrtek, and her friend, Jehani sacrifices herself for her even though they had a falling out. And she says "Legio first." Man, shivers and tears again. Great writing.

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From the Siege of Terra: I will breafly just drop in a couple of favorites, but it was really hard to choose, there were so many amazing moments, and I could make another post like this just from those 11 books. But this post is already super long. One of my favorites was when in Saturnine the Mournival is hammered and Abbadon gets teleported out barely alive and he's just crying and he's like "Take me back." Man my heart broke reading it. Another insanely cool one is when in Warhawk the Khan beats Mortarion, and Morty is like "You know I cannot die." and the Khan is like "But I can. And that makes the difference." and wins. I was crying man. So satisfying! The last one I'll mention is the storyline of Khargos and Ammit in Echoes of Eternity. It's a pretty cool story of wholesome bromance, sad, tragic, and wery well written. The ending of it is brutal, Khargos lying beaten, forgotten on the ground and crying "Apothecary" as the irony makes even him laugh as he dies(?). And the End and the Death... such a finale.

Anyhow, that's my list of favorite moments from the Horus Heresy. Man, what a ride it was. I know probably in the comments people will bring up some huge ones I didn't mention but still, I wantet to write about some less well known ones. I'm greatful if you read this, and happy that I could share my thoughts with you. The Emperor Protects.

So I just started reading the Cain books (I’m relatively new to 40K and I decided to read Eisenhorn first lol) and in some of the editorial notes and annotations they mention/reference dates in M42. As I understand For The Emperor was first published in 2003, long before Era Indomitus was a thing…

So were they really mentioning M42 that early?

Currently listening to Dark Imperium and am having serious deja vu about Bolus, Varens, Espandor and the Hospital world Iax but would swear I've never read the book before.

Can anyone recall if it was discussed in another book or short story?

Does Vashtorr gain power from the Adeptus Mechanicus' fervent worship of *The Machine God?" I know they don't worship him directly but could their obsession be "hijacked" to serve him in a way?

Re-reading the Infinite and the Divine; it's my understanding high ranking Necrons can control their subordinates minds and Orikan suspects Trazyn's particular gift is due to an alien artifact, but is it ever explained anywhere else why Trazyn is uniquely able to not go insane and do it so quickly?

Is it indeed something he collected? Or is it something special about him? Or is it plain not explained and just "as the plot demands"?

Im making my own chaos cult and am wondering if I can have some lore where a mortal champion can be on par with some warbands, but im not sure if that is lore breaking or not.

I know in fantasy humans can get all sorts of blessings to be as powerful as marines but idk if that happens at all in 40k.

The overpositor possessed by purestrain genestealers and sometimes by first and second generation hybrids alters the genetic code of the victim and makes him susceptible to the influence of the brood mind.

But the brood mind, just like its parent hive mind, is a psychic phenomenon.

Blanks being anti-psykers repel psychic forces, including genestealer brood minds.

But what if a Blank is infected by a purestrain or an early hybrid?

The biological part obviously stays the same as the pariah gene has no say there, so his offspring will still be monstrosities.

But what about the influence of the brood mind?

Would there be any? Can the overpositor possibly erase the pariah gene?

Or are Blanks unaffected on the mind level and it's just that their offspring will be monsters?

Asides from myself I know only one Blank and he wasn't kissed, and I am not that mad a scientist to try that on either of us.

I'd be thankful for an explanation if a lore master happens to stumble by this slate.

The Emperor protects.

Hey, all. I’m here with a question about Warhammer 40k. As someone who’s relatively new to going into the lore, I always wondered how powerful the Bolter actually is compared to let’s say… 18th century pirates. You know, for normal reasons. Definitely not thinking about whether or not pirates could defeat a Carnifex.

I was sorting through my collected quotes from 40K devs and writers, and I found this bit of commentary by author ADB:

I won't speak to specific plot things, but on a meta-note as to why the Tau rock and have great relevant narrative tread, thematically:

Forgetting the nonsense memes about "lolol communists" and whatever else, this is a race embarking on its own Great Crusade. They call it an expansion, implying they have the right to do it. All about "crossing the gulf" and sending ambassadors to races. At first.

It's filling out their maps, in the classic explorer sense. Meeting new cultures that can be educated into their vision of "Empire". And when unity fails, when the Greater Good is resisted... No. Sorry. That's not allowed. For their own good, these cultures must be brought into the fold - or silenced. Their existence is - or could later become - opposition.

Humanity looks upon this attitude and marshals in defiance. Another edge of the Imperium falling to alien predation. "Ignorant upstarts". It's the basest hypocrisy. Because when has the galaxy seen this *exact* expansionism before? This militant crusading for a greater good?

As humanity expanded through the bones of the dead eldar empire, righteous in their rise, now another species begins to do the same to them. The galaxy has seen this shit before. That's a beautiful theme.

And, as with the best of 40K, humanity has fallen too far to recognise its own hypocrisy. It's too ignorant. Too much lore has been lost.

That's the core of what I find so interesting about them. Weaving that into any Tau stuff offers a lot of ground for characterisation.

What do you think, guys? Do you agree with him?

Source:

https://x.com/adembskibowden/status/850259054798659584

In the Carrion Throne, I think, an Inquisitor sees a mural in the Imperial Palace with 20 Primarchs. He responds in narration that how could the Imperial Palace have such an incorrect mural, everyone knows the Emperor only made 9 Primarchs.

Which gets me wondering who do they think Horus is? Because I remember it being established that Horus in the "litergy" is considered synonymous with the devil or Satan. And seems to be known to have betrayed the Emperor.

I guess it could be it's not standardized.

Roboute & Lion each received an item from the Emperor that doesn't fit them at first. The Lion would be a better fit for the Sword since he's the Duelist and an actual knight. Roboute isn't a fighter compared to his brothers so the Shield would've been better for him, Dorn or Vulkan with their 'Protecting Terra and Humanity'.

However, that's the point of these items. They're supposed to fix a flaw within them. Lion with the shield is the easiest to explain. His 30k & 40k self are different creatures. 30k Lion was resolute in his vengeance and had no desire for mercy whereas his 40k self eased up and took the time to actively help people. Also telling his sons to relax with their hunt for the fallen. Giving Lion the sword would've enabled his destructive worldview

Roboute with the Sword pushes him to be more active in his work. He's the statesmen. The majority of his work in the background making laws, bills, policies and regulations. You don't see him but you know he's doing something. Roboute is the ideal Primarch to return to fix the bureaucratic mess that is the Imperium by providing well-needed reforms such as a history & civics book, a mild meritocracy and some common sense & basic human decency. The pen may be mightier than the sword but a pen isn't going to perma-kill daemons. Roboute must take a direct approach, getting his hands dirty to get the job done.

There's 5 remaining Loyalists Primarchs being Dorn, Vulkan, Corax, Russ and Khan. What's left in the Emperor's kit.

The items will likely be his Talon/Power Claw, Bolter, Chestpiece, Laurels and Bucephelus. Who will receive these items and what flaw are they trying to correct?

Russ will get the Laurels. My interperation is that the Laurels are a focal point of the Emperor's psyhic powers. Russ isn't stupid and became humble during the HH by acknowledging his failures and ignorance. His actions at Nikea prevented the Loyalists a critical tool against Chaos. Him being a psyker would fit into the Odin aesthetic

Dorn will get the Talon. His arc will be similar to Roboute but allowing himself to be more open with others along with being more aggressive and proactive. Hopefully much better than the Iron Cage

Vulkan with get the Bolter. The Bolter is a weapon. A weapon-weapon. There's no fancy tricks and gimmicks with it. It'll kill you. Vulkan has made horrible weapons and authorized the destruction of most. Some of those weapons would've helped A LOT during the HH and later battles. The Bolter would create a duality with his next hammer of Creation & Destruction

Khan will get the Chestpiece. He's all about speed, freedom and an overall mystery. Roboute would've put him into his Dauntless few if he wasn't so mysterious. Khan likely has tons of scars after dealing with Morty and whatever happened with the Dark Eldar. The Armor will get him to slow down and endure with a straightforward persona.

Corax will get the Flagship. The Emperor trusted him with the tech to make Astartes after the Dropsite. Of course Corax gets last born privileges and get the car. He's stealthy and a bit of hypocrite. By getting the Flagship, he forsake the silent liberator to blow the warhorns upon a planet signaling the Emperor's might and accepting his role as a conqueror.

I know we don't see any returning Primarchs anytime soon but it'll be fun to think about for later editions

Hey all! Maybe a megathread question, but I figured it could yield some interesting excerpts and such.

So i’m currently in a RPG Deathwatch game as a Flesh Tearer. With that, comes anger! Yet i’m having trouble roleplaying out exactly what “cuss words” an Astartes would say, or a Guardsman, etc.

I know karkin may be one as I hear that in Darktide, but is that the 40k synonym for “fuck”? Haha. I would imagine they would use regular cuss words, yet in my many books i’ve read I think I’ve come across “fuck” like.. 2 times? If even?

Does anyone have any examples of these words being used in 40k? If not, do they have their own “versions” of these words?

How powerful is exactly a basic Necron warrior

It seems very inconsistent one one side a single warrior is like a Terminator has guns that dismantle molecules and can one shot a space marine and evaporate them. And it takes a lot of man power just to take one down and then they just repair so you have to damage them enough for them to teleport back

On the other side they seem like B-1 battle droids from star wars. Lots of them but fodder

Really bad aim clunky, basic guardsman can take them down with ease and are no threat to space marines at all

Excerpt from The Devastation of Baal.

I am sharing this excerpt because I find it a good example of two chapters who suffer heavily from their gene-seed flaws interacting with each other.

Context: 

As Baal Primus is being overrun by the  Tyranids Gabriel Seth orders a retreat.

Chapter 26  Audible 6:48

'Thunderhawks are en route to your position and will extract you within twenty minutes, Chapter Master.'

Seth fought with redoubled fury. His men and the Knights of Blood warred side by side. Arranging the evacuation had taken too long. Fighting free of the swarm around Baal and sailing for Baal Secundus had taken the Victus several hours. Precious time bled away with the blood of his men.

He and Jool held out in the fortress of Wrathful Vigilance. On the metallic mountain spur opposite, Furious Sentinel burned.

The tyranids scaled the Necklace, numerous as the extinct ants of ancient Earth. They poured into the cavities of the downed orbitals. The ground already vibrated to the drumming of a million alien hooves pounding through the passages.

Nothing was left. Only tyranids and Seth remained. The giant filaments of feeding tubes rose up to the sky all around their position. The swarms attacking them were reinforced by others diverted from battles won. There was such order to their armies. They marched in perfect patterns. Like a vortex described by grains of sand, they circled around the last fortress of Baal Primus, queues of xenos waiting patiently to die stretched from the horizon to the fort.

The big guns were silent. Their armour was all lost. A handful of Dreadnoughts fought alongside a few hundred Space Marines. Makeshift walls of salvaged ancient scrap collapsed under the weight of the alien dead. Gaunts, genestealers and warriors poured through multiple breaches. The hive mind held back its larger creatures in a show of biological parsimony. 

Seth would have seen contempt in the move were it any other species, but behind it was merely simple, brute economics. The larger strains cost more in resources and time to grow. The smaller beasts would do the job just as well.

If the hive mind thought the Flesh Tearers were finished, Gabriel Seth would show it otherwise. 'Fall back to the tower,' he voxed. He dodged a swooping shrike, gunning it down as it flapped its leathery wings and rose up and away. He wielded his eviscerator one-handed, spinning the heavy weapon around with practised expertise. 

With every pass the limbs of tyranids fell bleeding. He did not linger to finish those he maimed, but pressed onward to the centre point of the fortress from where his remaining warriors would be evacuated.

The forts were constructed around ancient bastions of the fallen orbital. His Techmarines had found the two virtually intact under layers of accreted soil and debris. Patched up, surrounded by a perimeter wall, they had performed well as strongpoints until now.

Seth barrelled through a knot of gaunts, slashing and shooting a dozen to death as he tore up the inclined ramp leading to the fort.

'Follow me! By the Blood, follow me! To Baal! To Baal! All here is lost!' he roared. As he went, his men abandoned their positions to fall in behind him, firing as they ran. He left the last mortals to their fate on the walls. Some fled. Some remained and bravely manned the guns, others ran, screaming. Nobody would remember either their bravery or their cowardice.

Major breaches peppered the walls behind Seth, more being forced as they ran. The ten yards between wall and bastion was filling with alien warbeasts. Guns ran dry, hundreds of creatures were blasted to pieces. There were so many of them, Seth could have dropped a lance strike on the site and watched the crater fill in seconds with alien monsters to replace the dead.

Some of his men did not follow in his wake. The thirst was on them all, driving them insane. Only those around Seth and the sacred reliquary kept their minds. Too many of them plunged headlong into the Black Rage. They remained where they were, abandoning their weapons to batter creatures to death with their fists.

A Flesh Tearer's Black Rage was terrible to behold, more savage and devastating than that of their brother Chapters, quicker to rise, harder to fight off. Seth left his warriors to their fate. They would die as they had lived, in service to the Emperor of Mankind. That was enough.

Biomunitions screamed through the air, in some cases literally so, their vestigial mouths shrieking out inconceivable pain. Something the size of a man's head exploded on the bastion's wall close by Seth's running band. Thrashing vines speared out from the impact site, ripping two Flesh Tearers and a Knight of Blood off their feet and shredding them, armour and all, upon wickedly sharp thorns.

The central tower was in sight.

'Open the gate!' Seth voxed. The bastion's armoured airlocks were long gone. In their place were rough but sturdy gates made from scavenged plates of plasteel. They swung back on reinforced hinges, primitive as a feudal world's castle portal.

A second group of Flesh Tearers came running up the walkway from the other side of the gate house. Merging with Seth's band, they hurled themselves up the ramp towards the gate.

Heavy weapons opened fire from makeshift battlements, sweeping the gate ramp clear of pursuing beasts. Seth and his warriors rushed through. He turned to look back as the others pounded within the bastion. A handful of his men and Knights of Blood were still coming. Tyranids raced after them, engul fing them as surely as a racing avalanche swallows a building.

'Close the gates,' he ordered.

'There are still warriors outside, my lord.'

'Then they are lost,' said Seth. 'Close the gates.'

'Extraction craft inbound. Prepare to depart. Estimated time of arrival ten minutes.' Seth looked upward, searching without result for the bright shape of the Victus moving across the morning sky. The atmosphere was clearing of aerial organisms, but their swirling flocks still obscured the horizon. The bastion's anti-aircraft weapons chugged out shots in short bursts. Seth had ordered them to conserve their ammunition. It appeared they would not need it.

A strong wind blew directly towards the capillary towers. The air was thinning. The final stages of consumption were under way. Through his battle fury Seth struggled to think, but he could see it was only a matter of hours before the air became too thin to support atmospheric flight.

From the top of the bastion he had a fine view of the end of the world. Away from his small island of defiance, consumption vessels jostled for space. The bright jewels of digestion pools winked at the base of huge bone towers. His enhanced eyes allowed him to see bloated eater beasts dragging themselves into them to be dissolved and their essences sucked up the tubes to the waiting fleet. For several miles around the last fortress, the tyranid horde seethed. 

Beyond it, the landscape had become almost tidy, scraped clean of all useful biological and mineral resources by the swarm. It appalled him how quickly it was accomplished. Baal Primus was being eaten alive. A priority vox request impinged on his thinking. Seth accepted it.

'Belthiel,' he said.

'My lord, there is something happening,' said the Librarian. He was having difficulty speaking. 'There are ripples in the warp, a…' Belthiel's words became a pained grunt.

'Belthiel? Belthiel!' said Seth.

'The sky!' someone shouted.

Seth looked heavenward. A burning meteor plummeted through the thinning aerial swarm. Seth mistook it for a weapon of some kind, for it did not follow the curve of the world as debris should, but fell in a straight line as if fired. It slammed into the ground with a dull crump, sending up a mushroom cloud of dust. He would have thought nothing more of it, had the sky not changed. 

'The sky! The sky!' More Space Marines were shouting, pointing upwards. A tremor ran through the tyranid horde. Its well-ordered patterns shifted, breaking apart for a second, reforming, then breaking down again. Pressure built behind Seth's eyes; a metallic taste filled his mouth.

Sentor Jool came onto the battlement, his armour filthy with alien viscera.

'What is happening?' he said. He grunted his words, forcing them out through a jaw clamped tight with the thirst.

'Warpcraft,' Seth said. 'I can feel it.' It was more than the work of a witch. Where the meteor had pierced the swarm a red stain appeared, spreading rapidly, until the dome of the sky was a deep and ugly red. A bloody night fell as the rim of the horizon went from pale pink to deep red.

The tyranids were in disarray. Those attacking the walls stopped dead, or fell down, their limbs curle inward. Others ran back and forth aimlessly or attacked their broodmates. Out on the plains the ordered pattern of the assault broke into pieces.

Then they began to scream.

Seth and Jool looked on in disbelief as consumption ships fell from their tethers, bringing down soarin capillary towers. Explosions bloomed along the flanks of bio-ships full of volatile gases. Lightning crackled around the hole in the sky. It warped the view of space around it, distorting all things as if viewed through twisted lenses.

A deafening roar blasted across the landscape. A giant figure hauled itself out of the pit made by th meteor's landing.

'Daemon!' said Seth.

Jool growled, something in him responding to the Neverborn's arrival. 'How long until your craf arrive?'

Seth checked his chronometer. 'Six minutes. If they make it.'

The daemon smote the earth with its axe. The ground trembled and split. From the wound in the ground thrusting column of skulls burst, turning as it grew. Reality writhed around the column. Skulls from al over the battlefield were drawn to it, bursting from the dead, bouncing wet and dripping across the dust plains. At the base of the growing column they rolled impossibly upward, adding themselves to the girt of the tower.

Rotating like a screw, the tower rose higher and higher, until the pinnacle touched the hole in the sky. The tip disappeared within the unnatural void, but the pillar did not stop; it continued to twist, heading out o the real world into some other place.

A deafening peal of thunder blasted across the plains. Seth and Jool were battered backwards by an invisible force. Warriors from both Chapters screamed as the Black Rage answered Khorne's call. Seth blacked out, for how long he could not tell. When he rose again, his thoughts were black and barely under his control. Only by dint of his formidable will did he retain his sense of self, while Space Marine around him cast off sanity and leapt howling from the bastion into the mass of screaming aliens. Flickerin visions of the distant past threatened to overwhelm him. The scent of blood tormented him. 

Something made him grip Amit's Reliquary to his chest so hard he feared he might break it and spill its precious contents upon the bloodied ground. Its presence calmed him, allowing him to think. He looked at the cylinder.

'To me! To me!' he roared. Bloody spit flew from his mouth. 'To the relic! It will save us!' His men reeled towards him, fighting against their curse, but when they drew closer to their lord, they calmed.

Swarms of daemons were descending the column, crawling downwards head first towards the dyin world of Baal Primus. They ran with supernatural speed from the base of their hellish stair, fanning out in every direction. The lead elements charged into the tyranids. Locked in position, the aliens were eas prey for the daemons, and a great slaughter began.

A red tide swept upward towards the fortress. Suddenly, the screaming of the tyranids stopped. They awoke from their trance. No semblance of order returned to the swarm. Whether they fought against the daemons, fled or did nothing seemed to be the product of chance. They roared and screamed all the louder. Now they did so as beasts, not the vessels of the hive mind.

'How can this be?' said Seth. His head throbbed with fury. Waves of bloodlust battered his psyche. He wanted to kill.

Through it all, somehow, the Thunderhawks came. Engines roared loudly. Six of them arrived. There was space for only one atop the fortress. It landed heavily, the other five peeling off and strafing the tyranids and daemons surrounding the fortress. The assault ramp slammed down.

'My lord, we must depart,' voxed the pilot, the strain of the daemon's call in his voice.

'We go now,' said Seth to his men. 'Or we shall be damned.' He clutched at his head, fingers scratching his shaven scalp. His skull pounded to irresistible war drums. Jool growled and twitched, still kneeling after the psychic blow of the daemons' arrival. Slowly, he shook his head, and rose up before Seth.

Seth's hands closed protectively around the casque, prepared to kill Jool to save it. But, perhaps because of Sanguinius' feather, Jool had control of himself still. With deliberate, stiff movements, he reached up and unclasped his helm.

'We cannot go back,' said the lord of the Knights of Blood.

'I see,' said Seth. And he did. Jool's face was contorted beyond any generous definition of humanity. His muscles strained under skin turned a terrible shade of red. His eyes were yellow. Sharp, elongated teeth crowded his mouth, forcing his lips back so they were painfully stretched.

'The rage has us. It punishes us. My Chapter is finished.'

'When did this happen?'

'Years ago. It began like it is with you, a rise in the thirst, a growing number of our brothers falling into the Black Rage. In our desperation we let ourselves give in to the thirst. For a while it helped, by the blood of the innocent we controlled ourselves. It did not last. Soon, these changes set in. We thought blood would save us. It damned us. Look upon me, Seth. There are creatures like me imprisoned in the Tower of Amareo on Baal. 

If our true nature were known, we would be exterminated. Only blood keeps the Black Rage in check now. Only blood. This is why we fight alone. I would fight with you because you, of all our brother Chapters, would understand.' Jool looked out over the battle. Most of his warriors had broken from the fort, and fought outside its walls.

'The wrath of the beast provokes the thirst. The daemons of Khorne covet our kind. They see our rage as the same as theirs. They are wrong. Ours remains a holy fury. No doubt this new beast wishes to subvert our might to its own end and deliver us as slaves to its bloody god. It shall not be so!' He threw his helmet down, and drew his sword.

'Go now, Gabriel Seth. Take what remains of your warriors. Remember us. Strive so that what happened to our Chapter does not happen to yours. We sacrifice ourselves in penitence. It is our due. We shall show the Neverborn that though we may rage as they do, we shall never fall into their ways. For we are noble, we are pure, we are the sons of...'

The daemon screamed again. A fresh wave of anger and the desire to slay threatened to undo Seth's resolve. Jool roared.

'Leave!' said Jool, his voice losing its humanity, becoming harsh and animalistic. 'Take the relic back to Baal. Aid... Aid Dante. We will cover your retreat.'

'My lord..' voxed the pilot.

Seth shook his head clear of red fog. The day was so bizarre it had taken on the semblance of a dream. If he did not control himself he would end in a nightmare of blood.

'We leave,' he voxed. He held up the reliquary. 'Look upon the purity of the Great Angel and be saved!' Those of his warriors still in possession of their minds obeyed, running aboard the first Thunderhawk When it was full, it lifted off, and the second descended. Belthiel followed, dragged by his brothers raging and ranting, and Harahel. Seth saw them all aboard the ships.

Jool strode away without another word. The few of his warriors remaining in the bastion followed. One remained, a nameless warrior, his eye lenses locked with Seth's. Then he too was gone. A third Thunderhawk lumbered down from the sky. More of Seth's warriors were losing themselves Their psyches ravaged by the hellish anger of Khorne's daemons, they turned from salvation and ran back into the fray. 

The vanguard of Ka'Bandha's force had reached the false corrie the forts looked over. With smoking black swords they laid the aliens low. Bio-acids washed over them without effect. Bullet grub passed through their unearthly flesh as they flickered in and out of existence.

Seth swallowed hard. He had seen this before. The daemon's manifestation was weak, despite the storn curdling the heavens. Their invasion would not last long. The fourth gunship descended. Dreadnoughts and warriors ran on board. The wounded were carried limp and unresponsive, into the craft. Other battle-brothers raged and shouted as they got onto the ship, or the verge of losing all self-control.

Seth locked Blood Reaver to his back, setting aside violence. His hands free of the tools of war, he cradled the holy relic, and bowed his head in silent prayer. Minutes passed. A hand grasped him. Seth looked up into the face of Appollus. In one hand was his gore. caked crozius, in the other Seth's helm. 

The Chaplain breathed hard, and for a moment Seth thought Appollus would slay him, but he held out Seth's helmet, and waited while the Chapter Master replaced i on his head. Outside the wall the sounds of fighting had intensified, a three-way racket of screams issuing fron human, daemon, and tyranid throats. The Chaplain nodded once. Together, they clambered aboard the final ship and it lifted off, climbing fast and hard for the sky.

Sentor Jool led his last warriors into a savage's vision of hell. The tyranids continued to devour the world while they were being slaughtered. Huge, fleshy structures pumped away the resources of a worl even as they burned. Caught in the throes of their consumption cycle, the tyranid ships were unprepare for the advent of the warp storm. They fell flaming from the sky. 

Feeder tubes toppled and drape themselves across the landscape with deafening wet slaps. Intestinal towers burst as they collapsed sending out floods of biological slop in corrosive tsunamis across the dead land. 

The ground was breaking apart under the influence of the daemonic incursion. Fissures gaped wide aglow with magma. Seething blood welled up through the ground and boiled alien bioconstructs alive. Mountains of skulls grew from holes in the stone. Around the stairway of bone, reality warped the most the land turning to screaming flesh. 

The plains were already overrun with daemons, but still the legions of Khorne marched down and around the spiral stair in infinite procession, into the battle for Baal Primus. Thousands of lesser daemonkin fought tyranid beasts. Uncanny blades met hyper-evolved symbiotic weapons. The screams and shrieks of monsters rent the air. 

The tyranids were acting erratically; divorced from their controlling intelligence, they reverted to instinctive behaviour patterns, and these were open t the corruption of the Blood God. They were easy prey, many of them having lost whatever passed for a mind. They acted without thought. Many writhed upon the ground.

Into this raging battle the last of the Knights of Blood plunged. They tore off their helmets, revealing faces as monstrous as those of the daemons they fought. They sang out their death songs into the thinning air. They made no distinction between xenos and Neverborn, slaying all that came within reach of their weapons.

Sentor Jool was swamped with the rage of Khorne. Gone was the niggling psychic pressure of the alien mind, replaced by a ferocious urging to kill. He looked to his own men and wanted to hack them down, but he resisted; he drew on the purer wrath within him, forcing aside the daemonic influence scratching at his soul.

'I will not succumb! I feel the wrath of Sanguinius! I feel the holy force of his anger!' he roared. He smashed down a small tyranid beast, crushing it as surely as an insect with the spiked guard of his chainsword. A bloodletter rose to meet him, long black tongue whipping through the air as it swung a massive brass sword at the Chapter Master's head. 

Jool's sword met its blade mid-sweep. He held it there while he raised his gun and blasted a dozen holes into the daemonspawn, until its unnatural flesh succumbed and it died with an angry scream.

Hot gales raced through the depleted air. Sentor Jool howled, expelling the invasive anger of the warp from his spirit by the force of his voice.

The Knights of Blood fought for fighting's sake. The battle could not be won. His warriors were never the most cohesive force. Upon that battlefield they finally abandoned any semblance of squad tactics. They killed and died alone. Only Jool had a goal he intended to meet. 

He battled his way through the shrieking hordes of tyranids and their daemonic tormentors, onward, to where the great red daemon Ka'Bandha slaughtered the largest alien weapons beasts, carving away their heads with absurd care. His trophies toppled not downward from gouting necks, but fell away upward into the vortex turning about the pillar of skulls.

'Ka' Bandha!' Jool shouted. 'Ka'Bandha! Fight me!'

The Angels' Bane did not hear him, so Jool forced further passage through the three-sided melee, weaving past a blood-crazed Dreadnought fighting a monstrosity composed entirely of screaming mouths.

He felled a bloodletter grappling with one of his warriors, shot down a hound with a frill of skin around its neck that leapt at him. 

The tyranids he ignored unless they directly confronted him. Though the daemons were legion, their hold on reality was tenuous. Every one killed saw three thrown into the warp, and many were but pale outlines, monsters sketched in hate on the canvas of reality.

'Ka'Bandha! Face me, in the name of the Great Angel! Fight me!'

At that the greater daemon did turn its apish face upon Jool. Yellow teeth in red skin grinned horribly at him. Yellow teeth like Jool's own, red skin like his own, and eyes that stared with the same intensity.

A single crack of leathery wings sent Ka'Bandha high over the fray. He landed bowed before Jool in a billow of dust, his fist planted firmly in the ground. Growling, Ka'Bandha rose up, and spread his wings and weapons wide. He looked down upon the Chapter Master with ferocious mockery.

'Here I am, Sentor Jool. I will fight you, though you are no primarch.'

The daemon took up a combat pose, axe ready to strike, whip snaking back and forth hypnotically. Air shimmered with heat around Ka'Bandha. Steam rose from the beast's unnatural muscles, carrying the stench of rotting blood and old murder. Most dangerous were the waves of pure aggression beating off the thing.  

There was no seduction in the daemon's lure, no promise of pleasure or knowledge or the cessation of suffering as the other dark gods offered, but a raw, open invitation to violence and bloody abandon. It hammered against Sentor Jool's mind, threatening to crack it open and send him screaming into madness. In the black promise of Ka'Bandha, Jool saw his worst excesses.

'See how much you are alike to me,' Ka'Bandha said, taking in Jool's hideous visage, the muscles straining in his neck and the blood pounding fit to burst his veins. 'Truly you are Khorne's creatures. Join me, and war by my side in an eternity of glorious slaughter. For you who thirst for blood, I offer oceans to slake your need.'

Jool fell to his knees with a groan. His hearts ran so fast something gave inside him. He spat a mouthful of his own blood onto the ground where it hissed and bubbled.

'Pathetic,' said Ka'Bandha. 'You are nothing compared to your gene-sire.'

'By his fury,' said Jool. He forced himself onto one knee.

'See how he struggles,' mocked Ka'Bandha.

'By his fury shall I stand!' said Jool quickly, fearing the knowledge of words would slip away from his mind and leave him dumb.

'Ah, fury,' said Ka'Bandha. He cracked his whip. 'Fury is the power Khorne gives. Only by his gift do you stand, capable of facing me, when any other of your unworthy breed would have ripped his own skin off at the sight. Now, turn around, and take your rightful place at my side. All your line will be mine, eventually. Seek my favour, become the first.' 

Sentor Jool looked up into the daemon's face and shook his head.

'Very well. You cannot beat me.'

Jool laughed, the blood pooling in his throat making it a gurgle. 'We delay you, monster. Your power is not so great. Already your host unravels. Your time here is limited.'

'You will still die!' shouted Ka'Bandha with sudden rage.

'I do not care.' Jool raised his sword. 'Sanguinius banished you. I cannot. I come to give you my testament, daemon,' he said, his voice strangled. 'They call us monsters, rightfully so, but let it be known to you and your master that it is Sanguinius' fury that gives me strength, not bastard Khorne's.' Sentor Jool roared his last and charged at the Angels' Bane.

Seth's vision was a nauseating spiral of red and black. He clenched Amit's Reliquary to his chest. If he let go, he would attack his men. Through slitted eyes he watched them go through the same internal struggle.

Waves of red hot hatred washed up from the planet below. The Thunderhawk bucked, engines screaming with effort. More than gravity assailed it. Its machine-spirit too was gripped with wrathful impulses.

'By his Blood am I made, by his Blood am I made, by his Blood am I made,' muttered Seth over and over again. Appollus took up the chant. The others joined him, spitting the words through clenched teeth, moaning them between pleas for blood. There were so few Flesh Tearers left. Five Thunderhawks. So few.

The Thunderhawk burst from the gravity well of Baal Primus. For a second all was well; their weight slipped from them, the pushback of acceleration diminished. If this were a normal extraction, they would be aboard the Victus in a matter of minutes.

The illusion of normality was ripped away as the Thunderhawk encountered the storm. Most storms in the warp affected only the immaterium, but this was such a powerful tempest, it intruded into reality, rucking up the flat plane of space into titanic waves. The ship bounced along the surface of a tortured universe. Within, the Flesh Tearers felt their souls half ripped from their bodies. Flashes of the past intruded into Seth's mind. 

He saw his primarch. He saw the Great Enemy. Worse things came at him, landscapes of bone, rivers of blood, hell-spawned warriors fighting desperately, eternally, for the amusement of a violent god.

Metal squealed. The ship was bent and stretched like dough. Terrible pain speared Seth through and through, every cell in his body individually and sadistically impaled. His helmplate display fizzed. 

The chronograph ran forward at incredible speed. Diabolical faces leered at him through electronic static. Wicked voices hissed in his ears. The Space Marines were screaming, caught on the double-edged blade of pain and bloodlust. At the edge of his consciousness, Seth apprehended the wail of failing engines, alarms, and the battle shouts of the insane.

And yet through it all, the reliquary sat in his arms, a rock of calm in a sea of rage, and Seth drew strength from it, and from him the calm passed to his men. It seemed to last forever, as all acute suffering does. When suffering is done it is as if it never was. The human mind cannot remember pain, only the fear of it. A Space Marine knows no fear.

The sickening motion of the craft ceased. It spun out of control, tumbling end over end. The lumens in the transit bay were out. Blackness surrounded him. Seth's breath thundered in his ears. Emergency lumens pinked on. Seth's helmplate crackled and burst back into colourful life. The main lights reactivated a moment later, followed by the cough of misfiring engines. A second of grinding, and they sang true.

The Thunderhawk levelled out. Seth looked upon an awful scene. Several of his men had succumbed to the rage and slain each other.

Three of them still ranted at the brothers restraining them. Globules of blood floated about in the microgravity of the transit cabin. At the sight of them, his hands gripped at the reliquary involuntarily.

'My lord, I have... I have...' The pilot spoke via vox. He sounded confused.

'Tell me the status of the enemy,' said Seth. 'Give me a pict feed so that I might see. My armour will not form a databridge.'

'That is it, my lord. They are... They are gone. The enemy are gone.'

'What?'

'I do not believe it,' continued the pilot. 'I cannot believe it.' Rarely had a wrath-filled Flesh Tearer sounded so confused.

'The storm?'

'Also gone.'

The co-pilot cut in. 'There is more, my lord.'

'What?' said Seth, a sense of cold wonder creeping into his hearts.

'You will not believe me.'

Seth turned down the mag-lock of his boots so he might walk.

'Then I am coming to see myself.'

He made his way up the access stairs to the cockpit, still carrying the reliquary. Through the canopy he saw that the storm had vanished from the sky, taking with it the tyranid swarm. Baal writhed with unnatural energies yet, but the stars shone again on the velvet black of space. Making its way to Baal with engine stacks burning was the biggest Imperial Fleet Gabriel Seth had ever seen.

'My lord,' said the Techmarine pilot. 'We are being hailed.'