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 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."

A brief summary: A reality warper from the Foundation world is recruited by yellow-haired weasels and transported to the Warhammer universe, embarking on a journey to save humanity. ——— Roan stroked his chin, looking at the handsome young man before him with tanned skin, long black hair, and a golden laurel wreath. "...You mean you're going to take me away from this world to a new universe to start a new life?" "That's right, that universe is wonderful, a fantasy world where humans, elves, orcs, undead, demons, and many other races coexist." My requirements are simple. As the hero I've chosen, you only need to help humanity defeat the demons and the evil god behind them. "I believe this task won't be difficult for a reality warper who can manipulate reality at will, almost to the point of wish fulfillment..."

Traveling to the world of Warhammer Medieval, which has been ravaged by the four evil gods and has countless Chaos Chosen, is undoubtedly the most tragic world besides the Warhammer 40,000 world!

Fortunately...

[Farming + Warhammer Fantasy + War + Slow Pace]

The shadow of the end has loomed over the century-long countdown, and the chaotic torrent is about to breach the world's dams. Demons roar, tearing reality apart, nations crumble in the flames of war, and even the highest gods cannot escape their fate of demise.

Who can reverse this doomed fate?

"Humans? They're as fragile as paper, not a single one of them is worth a fight!"

"Pointy ears? All they do is fight amongst themselves and gossip, they're such useless sissies!"

"Short and timid? Hiding in holes like turtles, just a bunch of shut-ins getting moldy!"

A green-skinned orc with bared fangs spat, surveying the battlefield with disdain. Behind him stretched an endless mass of massive black orcs, their muscular bodies laden with spoils; there were night goblin fanatics wielding bone spikes, their crimson eyes burning with Waaaaagh flames; there was the Queen Spider, a mobile fortress, her eight legs sending debris flying wherever they stepped; there were the Great Techies carrying booming firearms, their strange devices crackling with electricity—even the legendary ancient space machine, supposedly floating in the clouds, hummed and followed behind the green-skinned army.

When the soul of the transmigrator collided with this green-skinned body born for war, and when the cold system interface met the green-skinned man's greatest "I think" technique, a wonderful chemical reaction erupted.

The orc suddenly raised his giant axe, its blade gleaming coldly in the sunlight, and a deafening roar echoed through the heavens and earth:

"I think—to save this wretched world, we still need our big green skins!"

"From this day forward, I am the savior!"

"Waaaaagh!"

As the holographic screen seeped into the psionic blood mist of the Koprulu sector, the gamer Luo Feng's temple burned, and the stigmata of the Mechanicus blossomed. His synapses simultaneously connected to the war codes of three parallel universes: the gene-seed of Warhammer 40K crystallized in his blood vessels, the psionic matrix of StarCraft restructured his brainstem, and the Forerunner think tanks of the Halo world unlocked forbidden knowledge.

On an operating table in a Martian foundry, Mechanicus neural probes battled against Zerg symbiotes. As a spine was transformed into a Protoss phase prism, the energy storms of the Eye of Terror and the Koprulu sector tore quantum wounds through the fabric of reality. The chainsword in his left hand oozed Zerg saliva, and the power armor on his right shoulder bore the marks of Necron repair.

The Awakened's blood boiled in the multiverse: his left eye reflected the Emperor's quantum ghost, his right eye glimmered with the Queen of Blades' genetic map. As the green-skinned orc waaagh energy and Protoss purification beams erupted in his chest, Luo Feng discovered that his genes were being reorganized into the form of a Xel'Naga ancestor.

The chosen vessel of the multiverse must choose between the throne of the God-Emperor, the Zerg Hive, and the oracle of the Protoss Kara. Every breath rewrites the laws of reality, and every wound blooms the energy crystals of a different universe. He stands at the edge of a reality rift, Warhammer Demon Sword in his left hand, Interstellar Psionic Core in his right, and the remains of the Halo dissolving beneath his feet.

"You are the Allspark." The mechanical voice of the Moebius Foundation resonated with the hymn of the Mechanicus. As the ultimate game between the three universes began, Luo Feng's choice would determine the fate of all parallel worlds.

The protagonist Warwick was complaining about the tithe, and then he was watching the lobster recruitment, so he said something bad and was forcibly teleported into the Warhammer 40K world.

Obtain a system that absorbs emotional values, summons warriors from various movies, TV shows, and games, and builds an empire.

Halo, Super God, Star Wars, Azure, etc.

I am pure cloud! cloud! cloud!

It is a fusion of various works, and the combat effectiveness is different!

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...

(This is a Warhammer 40,000 fan fiction. Some timeline settings may be slightly modified, but it will still be very Warhammer-esque.)

(It will incorporate some references to memes and historical events... to expand the drama and fun of this fan-made universe.)

While driving home with his girlfriend, Empress, a Chinese college student studying in the US, Xiao Li was suddenly sucked into the Warhammer 40,000 universe by a warp vortex...

It turns out that his girlfriend was actually one of the Emperor's soul fragments!

.....................

Suddenly dumped on a desolate planet, just as Xiao Li was about to be chopped into mincemeat by orcs, a panel suddenly appeared before his eyes...

Things seem to be getting... interesting!

[Readers can submit characters + ensemble cast + unlimited resources + exciting team battles] Rick transmigrates to Warhammer 40K and arrives in the demon world of Calem. Just as he is about to be killed by Abaddon's claw, he awakens a wishing system.

Wish 1: Wind Spirit Moon Shadow Editor.

Wish 2: Doraemon's four-dimensional pocket.

Wish 3: Conceptual God-level Healing Spell: Healing, Resurrection, Purification, Modification of Will!

Wish 4: Conceptual God-level Replication Technique: The ability to replicate anything with a simple touch.

[Ding! Host detected as too shameless, system is unbinding..........]

Abaddon: Huh? Why aren't you dead?

Rick: Because I am immortal!

Emperor: Could you help me restore my damaged body?

Rick: Yellow weasel, you can't afford the price I'm going to pay.

Vashtor: Please, please let me see that prop again! I'll do anything you ask!

Rick: Sure, but you'll have to join my Third Reich Equipment Research and Development Bureau first.

Khorne: You're very strong, join me.

Rick: What are you barking about? Take this Psionic Blow!

Tzeentch: It's all fate...

Rick: Riddler, take this Psionic Bullet!

Nurgle: You bastard! Give me back Isa!

Rick: What do you mean "your"? That's my wife! Take this Psionic Bullet!

Isa, the Goddess of Life: Our daughter has run off again with the props you gave her.

Rick: It's okay, the kids will come back on their own when they're tired of playing.

The Silent King: Please save my entire clan.

Rick: No problem, be my henchman and henchman and I'll save your entire clan.

Hive Will: There's a cheater in this world!

Rick: All you bugs, die!