Blue, wearing these familiar gadgets, stood on the streets of 2025. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, spilling onto the asphalt, and the air was filled with the aroma of coffee and bread. He didn't know why he'd arrived here in 2077, but the beauty of this world, free of nuclear wastewater, synthetic food capsules, and cyberpsychopaths, filled him with a trance. The city of fifty-three years ago was still vibrant, its people's faces still reflecting genuine emotions. Since he couldn't go back, he'd return to his old ways. In this age before technology, he remained the middleman treading the fine line between right and wrong: connecting people, resolving problems for clients, and even creating them when necessary. After all, no matter where...

"What did you say?" Abaddon exclaimed, both shocked and furious. "We've been boarded?! And by a bunch of mortals?!"

“Yes, sir.” A Chaos Space Marine wiped the cold sweat from his brow. “They are too strange. If we don’t send reinforcements soon, our defenses will be breached! Sir, I suggest you evacuate first…”

"Shut up!" Abaddon roared. "Who are we? We are the Black Legion! We have launched thirteen expeditions, each one dealing a fatal blow to the Empire! We are the Empire's eternal nightmare! And now, are we to retreat before a few mortals?"

"Assemble the troops immediately! I will make those arrogant bastards die here! Let the Empire know that we..."

"Bang!" "Rip rip rip!!!" "Boom!!!"

Before he could finish speaking, a huge ceiling collapsed, and on it, the corpses of Space Marines were piled up like mountains. On the mountaintop, several figures, bathed in the aura of blood, looked down.

Under Abaddon's shocked gaze, a man carrying a halberd looked around at him and said, "You're Abaddon, aren't you?"

"In the name of humanity, we bring you to trial, traitor!"

Now, standing before you is Peturab Rurik Kislivsky, the Supreme Tsar of all Kisliv, the Iron Tyrant of Olympia, the Primarch of the Steel Warriors of the Fourth Legion of Astartes… If, if, if Peturab had not descended upon Olympia, but instead arrived in a Russian-style world and began his conquest there, what would have happened?

Transcending into the Warhammer world. The Middle Ages are a chaotic wasteland, with the shadow of eternal destruction looming over all timelines. The end is nigh, and the grand game of the Chaos Gods unfolds in the Middle Ages. Carrying a simulator, when faced with the choice between becoming Primal Chaos and the Watchers of Order, will you destroy or save the world? In the 40th millennium of Warhammer, endless war engulfs the entire galaxy. The Emperor is long gone, buried on the Golden Throne. The Astragalus and Astartes have paid a heavy price; even the Primarch's return cannot halt the Imperium's despair. The edifice is crumbling, and the Dark Lord is about to rise from the throne. A decisive outcome will change everything, ensuring humanity's glory endures. Conquer or destroy the Xenomorphs, only in the name of Primal Chaos, in the sight of the gods.

The already-unordered order on Earth crumbled, ushering in a new era of coexistence of despair and hope.

Fanatical believers are like a raging fire, and paranoids are like a raging wave out of control; confused people are like flying catkins in the wind, and blindly following puppets are like duckweed on the water.

What kind of magnificent epic will they draw?

Where should humanity and all living things go?

The protagonist, Ling Ji, was a lowly slave in a primitive civilization in his previous life. In that cruel world of cannibalism, he witnessed his fellow citizens being treated as food by the powerful and playthings by alien forces. He suppressed his humble longing for warmth and, with his extreme cunning and ruthless methods, meticulously planned and destroyed half of the primitive civilization's world—a "liberation" he offered to his suffering compatriots, and the grandest art in his eyes. His only regret was failing to drag the other half of the world into annihilation. A gift (or malice) from an unknown entity led him to be reborn in the 41st millennium of the Holy Empire of Humanity, reduced to a serf in the Nest Capital. The decay, brutality, and cannibalistic nature of this world are exactly the same as in his previous life. What will Ling Ji choose to do now?