[Farming and Development] [War and Plunder] [Interdimensional Invasion]

waaagh!

Traverse a world teeming with gods, wielding the war dragon banner, and grow stronger with every fight! Even the timid mushroom man can evolve into a gigantic orc!

Orc boy—Brutal Orc—Dark Orc—Big Orc—Orc Warlord, born and raised in the land, delighted by war!

More numerous than swarms of insects, stronger than dragons, and armed with weapons more powerful than dwarves, let the green tide engulf the world! waaagh!

In the treacherous universe of Warhammer 40,000, how could there be no "YESYES"? So, to fill the void of the galaxy lacking rats, Lucius transformed into a black-robed Great Horned Rat and arrived in the galaxy, leading his hordes into this cruel galactic cesspool. From then on, the Devourer of the Great faced a group of equally hungry and formidable enemies; the Empire experienced what an endless sea of ​​people truly meant; the Necromancer discovered that the opposing rats also favored green weapons; and the Greenskins—Lucius declared, "Greenskins, we've fought our way from the Middle Ages to AOS all the way to 40,000! Let's see if you can handle the rats again!"

[My thinking power + Orcs + Time travel + Conquest + Joy + No female lead]

It starts with a green-skinned kid, and ends with him smashing through countless worlds.

What? Your unit is an angel? A dragon? A vampire?

Don't laugh at me for having only a little green kid. In a couple of weeks, you'll understand the meaning of "endless"!

A race born for war!!!

One green-skinned beast falls, ten thousand are born!

What faith can lead to godhood? What technological advancements? Nothing beats tens of thousands of green-skinned bastards believing that I am big and strong!

I think our lord is invincible!!!

I'm thinking a level 7 civilization could be created by hand!

Orcs were born to feed humans, and humans used a single punch to crush the heavens!

Vast, vast, vast, vast, vast, vast!

"Mao was both brutal and cunning!!!"

“WAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!”

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"

Once you enter the Star Wars universe, there's no turning back. Here, there is only war… war never changes, even in the distant galaxy. The glory of the Republic has long since faded, the wisdom of the Jedi drowned in intrigue and war. The old order is crumbling, and the new order… is built upon the corpses of replicant armies and droids. Solo is not the chosen one, just a history student, just an ordinary Jedi Knight who died on Geonosis. There is no time for hesitation, no chance for retreat. The replicant war has begun, and the fate of the galaxy is plummeting into the abyss. "All fear stems from insufficient firepower." "If the so-called 'hero' is merely another name for a pawn, then I will be the one to overturn the chessboard!" So… let the war begin! From Geonosis to Coruscant… spreading throughout the entire galaxy. Let the starships…

("Cloudhammer" x3—say it with me now!)

Starring: You, the players. Everyone else? Just NPCs with jobs.

Plot: A horde of chaotic gamers "guided" by desperate NPCs to aggressively stir shit up across the Warhammer universe.

Tags: [Meta-Gaming] [NPCs Suffer] [Fourth Wall? What Fourth Wall?] [Chaos Is a Player’s Middle Name]

At the end of the Terran Unification Wars, the God-Emperor's offspring was cast across the galaxy by a Warp storm. The Emperor's Great Crusade unfolded across the galaxy under the watchful eyes of the Four Gods, foreshadowing the future of humanity. For unknown reasons, an alien soul arrived in Warhammer, becoming the Clown Primarch, Mortarion.

Zhou Yan, a workshop technician, transmigrated into a clone of the Third Legion's Primarch, Vorgrim. "Damn it, Vorgrim, you've betrayed the working class!" "The Imperium is a corrupt empire, and the new humans are still humans... who's in favor, who's opposed!" "Some guy named Caul created a Legion of Primarch Space Marines for Guilliman... Byr, what do you think?" "Our overall strategy is to defend the Imperium's holy frontier, develop into the Imperium's dark side... sweep away the defeated Tyranid tentacles, and avoid the Necropolis of the Space Necropolis before we grow stronger... and most importantly, gather 18 Tyranid War Maidens!" After the Great Rift that tore the galaxy open, Zhou Yan led his newly formed legion to develop and grow, and the second human regime (warning: not the second Imperium) rose from the Galactic Far East!

This is a world of elves, magic, machines, and gods. This is the world of Warhammer 40,000. As a lucky transmigrator, he is the heir to a kingdom, but at the same time, he is the expensive currency of the Old Man, a Primarch with the essence of the Warp.

Now his old man Huang has arrived.

In the distant 41st millennium, countless races clashed within the galaxy. The ravenous Devourer had extended its tentacles here, the former galactic overlords were gradually awakening, and the whispers from the warp grew ever stronger. Lin Yuan, by accident, arrived in this cesspool-like universe. Watching the heroes and warriors battling it out in the galaxy, he was filled with despair. "I was just joking, I really didn't intend to serve the Emperor." Good news: Lin Yuan acquired a system. Bad news: He resurrected in the Undercity, and the first thing the system summoned was the Zerg from StarCraft II... Lin Yuan looked at the Zerglings and cockroaches hopping around him, and the Xenomorphs circling above his head, his despair deepening. "Damn it, is this really not Tzeentch's blessing?!"

I woke up to find myself, a glorious Soviet base vehicle AI, in a bizarre American wasteland—a place filled with atomic punk metal lumps and mutated giant cockroaches, even more outrageous than the heart of capitalism!

To restore order (and incidentally have some fun), I "recruited" a group of tribal natives who couldn't even put on their own pants. The most urgent task? Teaching them to speak magnificent Chinglish! After all, who can stand that incredibly complicated, unrelated native English?

And so, a bizarre sight appeared in the wasteland: a group of blond, blue-eyed burly men, speaking broken, construction-worker-accented English, shouting "Hurrah! For Ironhead God!", drove their magnetic tanks over mutants, followed by a swaying Kirov...

Hey, you over there, the shelter kid in the blue bodysuit, and those tin knights with laser guns, any complaints about the "Red Iron Curtain"? No? Very well, comrade, welcome to the Soviet wasteland!