Chen Xing: Hey everyone, I really want to play Stellaris, but seeing aliens makes me nauseous. Is it still possible to get into it? Emperor: Yes, bro, you can! ---------------------------------- (ps: This story is based on the author's personal experience, with just a little embellishment (●'◡'●))

[30k to 40k words, some semi-pseudo-scripture content, no female lead, loyalty, not a wish-fulfillment story]

Hermes: "Horus, my friend, death is not the end!"

We were never soldiers… In their eyes, we were destined to be embodiments of rage. In their eyes, we were born only for destruction. But we were his companions. We were those he trusted. We were his advisors, his craftsmen. We were a glimpse into what this species could become when properly guided and freed from the shackles of its own evil and weakness. Of course, we were also taught how to fight. He knew war was imminent. It was a necessary part of ascension, though it was destined to be impermanent. We are the guardians of the new era, and must be strong enough to ensure its safety.”

[An incredibly satisfying and exhilarating story! Earth was perfectly fine until a massive rift tore the solar system apart, unleashing endless demons and aliens from its depths.]

Have you heard? That madman is constantly yelling about saving Terra. He's not just a madman, he shouts something about the Emperor every time he kills those green aliens.

Meanwhile, on a battlefield

Lin Feng was so excited when he saw the green-skinned orc he had been searching for that he almost cried.

For the Emperor!

waaagh!

"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!"

These days, being a monster is tough. You get beaten up by Ultraman, magical girls, Kamen Rider, angels, demons, and even ordinary people! Xiang Xianyu just wants to say, "Wait until I gather seven idiots, then I'll show you what true cruelty is!" Then… Xiang Xianyu turns gray and squats in the corner: "This is too hard!!!"

This is the hut I built. This is the stone I meditate on. This is my bolter and chainsaw sword. I've been in this idyllic paradise for over a decade, even reaching the Qi Refining stage, and you're telling me this is a Warhammer? So the spiritual energy I breathe every day comes from the Warp?... Years later, a colossal statue stands atop Terra. Beneath the statue, they call me Regent, Godfather of the Chaos Primarch, Heart of the Dead, Terran Keeper, Ark Home Engineer, Terminator of the Second Brother, Dorak's Private Garbage Collector, Warp Landlord... "So, Your Majesty, it's rather impolite of you to be sitting while speaking to me."

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?

[Warhammer 40,000: The Merchant Ronin Fanfiction] [No System] [Loyal and Unorthodox] [Harem] [Growth] [Multiple Perspectives] [Entire Group]

When Wang Yunfei, a seriously ill patient, closed his eyes, he woke up in the world of Warhammer 40K.

This is a hive world not far from the Colonus Expansion Zone in the Calissis Star Sector of the Hazy Starfield. The original owner of the noble family, a transmigrator, is surprised to find that he has become the experimental subject of a certain wandering technological heretic.

Having passed the forbidden ritual, he gained a witty personality and the ability to genetically mimic others. But his immediate priority is to escape from the clutches of the motorgirl and then get on board the ship of the merchant ronin, Theodora, to take up his post.

[Claude Frye is also Cloud Fly, Brother Yunfei, how have you been? King, Little Wang... uh, Jin, right... not bad either.]

Wait, why does your surname end with Von Valancius?

[Act first, report later—it's an imperial decree, so what? What the chartered captain can handle, I'll handle; what he can't, I'll handle even more.]

【Ageta, no, Brother Jie, could you possibly make an exception for this alien technology matter?】

【Eh, I really don't know this, explain... a Szalak-brand space necromancer command vehicle! Jai, you're my Jai-ge!】

【Oh, so you like SM too ❤ No, I meant Space Marine, what are you talking about?】

War, war, war, endless war.

Khorne cares not for intrigue or loyalty, but only for endless violence and the art of war. A brilliant massacre where the few triumph over the many, a valiant charge against a powerful foe, is more likely to earn the Blood God's favor and blessings—for example, weapons igniting with an inextinguishable demonic fire, or bodies growing larger. Conversely, avoidance, cowardice, or the use of "dishonorable" means may lead to the loss of power or even being devoured by one's own comrades.

Altaïr King was completely bewildered when he woke up to find himself transformed into a golden ear of corn in the Terran palace. It was common knowledge that being a member of the Imperial Guard was a high-risk profession. Especially in this dark and cruel future, the laughter of the evil gods was so piercing, and the claws of the aliens so menacing. Fate was capricious, cruel, and bloody, and he was now clad in radiant gold. He pondered whether he would end up being devoured by warp entities or roasted into popcorn by psionic energy, and then stepped out of his dark underground cell. The Imperial Guard was endangered, but not so easy to kill. Before facing his final fate, he still had a chance to begin his adventure. The burning galaxy was still far away, and the most serious problem this novice Imperial Guard now faced was—he was lost in the palace.