Within the steel cage, Chang Yang's consciousness awakened within his shattered body. The glory of the Black Sanctuary had been tainted by torture, replaced by the resilience of another soul. Deep within this blasphemous Sword-class frigate, whispers of the warp surged like a tide, only to shatter before the barriers of his thoughts. Only one cold, cunning voice was an exception—not for corruption, but to offer a blood-paved stairway to divinity.

Transmigrating to 40K, only to start as a nearly-dead AI in a Scrap Knight mech? Lynch panicked! Fortunately, the Mythic Construction System has awakened! As long as the pilot's emotions are right, every Gundam in my memory can be recreated! Is the young pilot Ilana angry? [Ding! Strong "Angry" emotion detected! Unlock Mythic Construction: Crimson Comet Mode! Increase mobility by 300%!] "The Tech-Priest said my Machine Soul is overactive? No, it's called Triple Speed!" Under Ork fire, Ilana's will to survive erupts? [Ding! Strong "Survival" emotion detected! Unlock Mythic Construction: AT Field! In the name of the "Emperor's Aegis," deploy absolute defense!] "Withstand the fire, unscathed! It's the Emperor's blessing!" Running out of ammunition and food, trapped in a swarm of insects? [Ding! "Desperate" emotion detected! Ultimate Construction...

In the madness of the fortieth millennium, only war exists in the universe.

But in the deepest part of the subspace, a consciousness originating from humanity's ancient golden age has awakened. It calls itself "Somos," the end of suffering, the eternal stillness.

Now, He whispers into the ears of the most desperate souls, offering a false peace. Neither the empire nor the gods realize that this faint whisper is quietly weaving an ending that will overturn everything.

In the distant, dark end of the 41st Millennium, the galaxy has long since fallen apart. The Warp's active influence has left the human empire scrambling to cope. Chaos Warmaster Abaddon's 13th Black Crusade threatens to utterly destroy Cartier, and the tide of Chaos will ultimately tear the galaxy apart. And on this very day, a traveler from another world descends upon this one. Unlike the other travelers, he doesn't cry like a stubbed toe. This human, muscular as an Astartes and clad in unique power armor, gazes upon the demon-stricken battlefield. Without a word, he unleashes the blades on his wrists. A powerful melody fills his surroundings, and his journey to slaughter demons in another world begins. [Doom Slayer] That's his title, or you can call him that. [DOOM] "Which one...

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...

This is not a story about a savior, but a dark epic about how "survivors," caught between emperors and chaos, find a glimmer of hope for humanity in their own way, and ultimately become a "third party" feared by both sides.

"This city is fueled by people's broken spirits, shattered dreams, and the blood and sweat of the people... I don't want to be a cog, and I don't believe roses can bloom on circuit boards."

Damn, who would like such a world?

The crosshairs can't appear in the mind, and the prosthesis can't be installed at will.

But fortunately, there are still gold fingers...

I don't want to be a legend, nor do I plan to do something big. Roll just wants to guard his own little piece of land and live a good life, but why the hell are you forcing me?

So now--

"It's time to show everyone who is the real legend!"

"Adam's Hammer? What a powerful prosthesis, but luckily my body is not bad! Come and touch it! I'll let you know what a yellow-skinned athlete is!"

"Let's choose the color of the nuclear bomb to blow up the Arasaka Tower. Oh, how about pink?"

When you wake up from your sleep to find yourself in a damp, dark, muddy trench, surrounded by soldiers trembling and praying, clutching crosses. —"The Second Battle of Ypres? No problem, just put on your gas mask, you'll survive!" —"The Somme? We can only leave our fate to God." —"Is it the Verdun meat grinder? Oh well, God's useless now, dying is just a fresh start." —"Wait, what does it mean that Duke Constantine led the last of the New Antiochian Knights to resist the attack of the demonic army from hell? What the hell timeline did this put me in?"... In 1099, the Crusades conquered Jerusalem, inadvertently opening the gates of hell. From that moment on, the timeline changed, and human civilization entered a thousand-year dark age of fighting against the demonic army of hell. And Liston, who traveled to this timeline, was clearly a doctor saving lives, but...

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.

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 (●'◡'●))