[Natural disaster + mass production of troops + no female lead + decisive killing + four races of heroes + savior] As usual, young Fang Yun finished a game of Warcraft III, and the water cup next to him inexplicably spilled on the keyboard. A burst of lightning illuminated the dormitory, and Fang Yun regained consciousness.

"It's over! Five hundred worlds!"

It turns out that Fang Yun has arrived in the Warhammer 40k era.

So Tzeentch! Khorne! Nurgle! Slaanesh! And that false emperor sitting high on a golden toilet!

Let the Scourge send you on your way!!!

[First-time author here—fair warning, the opening’s rough, but it gets better!]

After accidentally transmigrating into the grimdark universe of Warhammer 40K, Lin Fan discovers he possesses an uncanny ability. Under its influence:

The Necrons, slayers of the Old Ones and extinguishers of stars, find themselves powerless against him—dubbing him "The Subjective One."

Slaanesh writhes in frustration, unable to corrupt him.

Tzeentch, seeing Lin Fan as an existential threat, weaves endless schemes to save itself from annihilation.

On the eve of Abaddon the Despoiler’s 13th Black Crusade, the galaxy burns with unrelenting war. Amidst escalating battles and unbearable casualties, Lin Fan realizes... (to be continued)

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!

Dark, Despair,

The Emperor's might walks the galaxy, seeking to restore humanity to its former glory.

But fate played a little joke on me.

The fate of mankind has long been controlled by the evil god, and only darkness and war are eternal in this world.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

"Ah! What you said is right, but what does this have to do with me? I'm just an everyday person and I like to have fun," said Hogg Menethil, the Primarch of the 11th Legion, to the big golden guy in front of him.

After the failure of the Horus Heresy, the Chaos Legions retreated into the Eye of Terror. Among them, the Iron Warriors Legion's quickly raised troops, Peter and his brothers, broke away from the Legion and formed their own warband, the "Forged in Steel" Brothers.

"We are no longer 'hasty recruits,' no longer expendable, no longer Iron Warriors, no longer slaves to Perturabo. We are now the 'Forged in Steel' Brothers."

"And this is my battle axe, 'The Blood of Crassus.' The Blood of Crassus will have its vengeance.

andrix: Dante, please let me go. I'm not your father. Your father is still lying in the Stone Hall.

Dante: Impossible! Dad, you're finally back! The Blood Angels are back to you! I can finally retire!

Looking at Dante clinging to his thigh, Sandrix fell silent.

And looking at the group of youngsters around him, their eyes gleaming with gold, ready to recognize their father, and the four gods in the Warp ready to surprise him, he made a decision.

Sandrix: Dad! Please help! Send Guilliman back, or at least that's fine! (Holding his thigh)

Emperor: !!!

Let's bring a little fun to this hopeless universe.

The warp power will unite with the messengers of chaos to offer "him," the blind and foolish Azathoth, the blissful dream of chaos.

Whether you are a Primarch, an Orc, an Eldar, or even the highest deities, come and join this chaotic and frenzied revelry!

Because anything is possible here.

Hopefully, this crazy and wonderful show will keep "He" from waking up too soon.

After all, no one knows whether we will still exist after the blind and foolish god Azathoth awakens.

Li Chui woke up to a deafening explosion, his first thought being that the trolls on the Warhammer forum were arguing in his head again last night.

Until he found himself lying on a smoking, scorched earth, the sky dyed a sickly purplish-red, a giant fortress collapsing in the distance, and a giant over two meters tall, wearing black and gold power armor, walking towards him, his chainsaw axe emitting a piercing roar.

"Holy crap," Li Chui blinked, his Qatari instincts kicking in as he rolled behind a boulder, "This cosplay is way too real!"

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!"