Perhaps it was the Emperor's blessing—that Ignis had torn through wreckage after wreckage without running into a single warp distortion.
The train car was ripped open with a thunderous crack, concrete blocks crushed to dust beneath his boots—the Son of Vulkan was showing his full destructive might.
At last, after smashing a large cargo container to pieces with a single punch, his Fire-Sight caught a peculiar trace of residual thermal radiation.
Something had fallen from midair—fast—flying obliquely for a surprising distance, even slicing through a steel beam in its path.
Through his neural interface, he adjusted his helmet's HUD, locking onto that thermal signature as a tracking target before deactivating the disintegration field on his Flamestorm Gauntlets.
If it turned out to be a sentient being, he'd rather not crush it by accident the moment he reached out.
And if it were a trap… well, it wouldn't take long to power the weapons back up again.
Following the faint thermal trail, he advanced along the tracks—the signature seemed to be leading toward a platform.
"Signs of combat,"
Ignis noted, spotting a gash on a cargo crate beside the rails.
"The movement was precise, the cut is clean."
The slash bore traces of metal melting and cooling—this wasn't the work of mindless beasts. It had precision, form, intent. Proof that the target, at least, possessed intellect.
The xenos he'd encountered so far only ever charged in droves, swinging their bladed limbs in mindless frenzy.
Tracking the heat trail and the marks of battle, Ignis's auditory sensors picked up sound again.
"Question: Who would you most like to have dinner with?"
That female voice—the one who'd called herself Anby before.
"Uh? Dinner? Of course… with the Starlight Knight, the superhero from that tokusatsu show!"
The reply came from a male voice, slightly mechanical in tone.
"What in the Emperor's name…? Tokusatsu? Superhero? Starlight Knight?"
Ignis blinked—he hadn't heard words like that since his old life, back when he'd still been that civil safety officer browsing the net during lunch breaks.
And Starlight Knight? He didn't even remember that series existing.
Also… why did the male voice sound so embarrassingly guilty?
Then came the unmistakable scrape of metal.
"Wait wait wait! Put the knife away! I'll talk, I'll talk!"
The man's voice cracked with panic—clearly being held at blade's edge.
"It's Monica, the lead actress from the midnight drama "Oh~ Sweetie"…"
That exaggerated drawl and bashful giggle—even a demi-god like Ignis winced at the sheer cringe.
"Alarm lifted. Probability of identity match for 'Billy Kid': 100%. Glad to see you alive, Billy."
Though Anby's voice was flat, he could still hear genuine relief beneath the monotone.
"Told you it's really me!"
The man—Billy Kid—exhaled audibly.
"There's still heavy rumbling coming from the direction I came from. Might be a higher-class Ethereal approaching."
Anby's tone carried a hint of concern.
"It's been a while since we fell down here. Boss Nicole must be out there working on a way to reach us."
Having confirmed the source of the voices nearby, the Salamander advanced without hesitation.
The movement of a one-ton warrior was anything but subtle—soon, Anby's voice rang out again.
"Something big is coming our way, Billy—prepare for combat."
"Same plan as always. You take point, I'll handle fire support."
Ignis didn't know exactly where they were, but to catch up fast, he chose the most direct route—a straight line.
So, when a giant twice their height, clad in dark green ceramite armor, burst through the platform wall in a storm of dust and smoke—Anby froze.
But only for a second. She immediately sprang into action, charging low toward the giant's legs, her power cell already feeding energy to her weapon.
Ignis was delighted. From the magnified feed on his HUD, the charging figure was unmistakably human—short white hair, a black-and-green combat suit, a girl barely half his height.
Most importantly, her skull's heat signature was perfectly normal—no sign of warp corruption or mutation.
The girl's movements were light and precise, right hand gripping the hilt of a blade at her hip—clearly preparing to strike.
The Salamander dropped to one knee, extending his right hand to block her path.
"Wait, citizen! I am not your enemy!"
His voice boomed through the helmet's vox array—but the girl's blade had already struck his gauntlet.
Sparks crackled as it hit—for a moment, Ignis worried it might be some kind of power sword.
Then he reconsidered—power swords were rare relics, even among the Astartes veterans. How could a mortal girl wield one?
A sharp clang, a brief flash—his gauntlet's circuitry flickered, but no real damage was done.
"Who are you…"
Anby leapt back, eyeing the crouching colossus warily. His armor looked far too advanced—heavier than any military exosuit she'd seen, yet smaller than a Typhon Challenger combat mech.
"You're military?"
"Military?"
Ignis paused—technically, the Adeptus Astartes were part of the Imperium of Man's armed forces.
"Yes. I am Ignis, an Astartes of the Salamanders Chapter, Sixth Company. I've lost my way in this space."
"Never heard of any 'Salamanders Chapter' or 'Astartes'."
Anby frowned.
Before she could continue, that same electronic male voice yelled:
"Anby! Step away from that giant thing!"
Two small-caliber bullets pinged off Ignis's helmet, ricocheting harmlessly away. He turned his gaze—and froze.
A white-haired man in a red jacket and jeans—a cyborg—was aiming twin long-barreled revolvers straight at him.
"Man of Iron!"
Ignis couldn't help blurting it out—as a servant of the Emperor, he knew too well the terror that name once carried. The Men of Iron—abominable intelligence that had ended mankind's Golden Age.
"Citizen! Step away from that Man of Iron!" he roared, charging forward. "It's dangerous!"
The cyborg's revolvers blazed, round after round slamming into Ignis's helm—some even striking the lenses over his eyes.
Fortunately, the Man of Iron's firepower was far too weak to harm him.
To Billy Kid, however, the onrushing giant was a nightmare. The sheer killing intent was real—this wasn't a bluff.
He wanted him dead.
But why? He was protecting Anby—yet this hulking brute attacked him, calling him "Man of Iron."
What is he, some anti-machine zealot?
When his pistols clicked empty, Billy slid low, trying to dash beneath the giant's legs and shoot from behind.
But the giant was far faster than expected—his sensors barely had time to register a massive dark-green leg filling his vision.
"Billy!"
Anby cried out as Billy was sent flying by a single kick, crashing through several pillars before stopping.
Ignis wasted no time—legends said Men of Iron were powerful beyond belief, and he'd give it no chance to recover.
"Don't hurt him! He's my coworker!" Anby shouted desperately as the giant's raised fist began to descend.
"You mean this Man of Iron… is your coworker?" Ignis gripped the cyborg in one hand, holding him up.
"Yes! His name's Billy Kid—he works for the Cunning Hares, same as me!"
"Ow, For fuck's sake! My waist actuators are busted!" Billy groaned, his voice dripping with pain.
Ignis was utterly baffled—a Man of Iron… feeling pain? Talking about TV shows? Wanting dinner with actresses?
By the Emperor—since when were the Men of Iron this… human?
"But he's a Man of Iron, miss," Ignis said, glancing from Anby to the cyborg in his grasp. "A machine."
"Excuse me! I'm an Intelligent Construct who passed the Forbidden Fruit Test!" Billy protested. "I have rights! I'll report you to Public Security for species discrimination!"
"Men of Iron are legal citizens now?" Ignis was genuinely stunned.
"Yes. Passing the Forbidden Fruit Test confirms full self-awareness and independent personality—hence, full human rights," Anby said as she approached. "Now let go of my coworker, or I'll draw my blade."
"Very well… citizen."
Seeing the determination in her eyes and the blade she held ready, Ignis decided to trust this mortal. He released Billy.
"Billy, how's your condition?" Anby asked.
"I think I've cracked a few supports. Pain sensors are screaming. Damn it—I'll need repairs." Billy crouched, clutching his side.
"Your repair costs are ridiculous. Nicole said our monthly budget's already in the red," Anby muttered, poking his waist.
"Not my fault! It's a work injury! Gotta count as on-duty damage." Billy winced, slowly standing.
"Big guy, what's your deal? You call Anby a 'citizen,' me as a 'Man of Iron,' and then kick me! What's your problem?"
"I am Ignis, Astartes of the Salamanders Chapter, Sixth Company."
"Yeah, yeah," Billy groaned, rubbing his head. "Never heard of your Salamanders or your Astartes. Where'd you even come from? Some kind of ancient robot-hater cult?"
Ignis froze. They'd never heard of the Salamanders—or even the Adeptus Astartes.
And this talk of cyborgs having human rights?
This wasn't the grim, eternal war-torn galaxy he knew.
Could it be… that the Warp had hurled him into another world entirely—one outside the Warhammer universe?
"Billy, I think I know where he's from," Anby said softly.
She studied him for a long time—especially the insignia on his right shoulder pad and the drake emblem on the left.
"Based on what I've read…"
Anby folded her arms, deep in thought.