[Your vision swims with blur. Through the haze, a short figure materializes before you. They wear a strange breathing mask strapped tight to their face and a brown military waterproof coat spattered with mud.]
[You try to draw breath, but your lungs refuse to cooperate. You reach out, attempting to call for help.]
[Something heavy and metal crashes into your skull. An engineer shovel. Warm blood streams down your face, coating your vision in red.]
[Darkness swallows you whole as death reaches out once more. Your body goes limp.]
[Unconscious, you feel yourself being dragged. The scrape of fabric against rough stone echoes distantly. Down, down into an underground tunnel. Deep beneath the surface... You have been captured.]
[Against all odds, you survive. Death passes you by once again.]
On the first day, consciousness slowly returns. Before you can make sense of your surroundings, a middle-aged man with the bearing of an officer approaches. His uniform is worn but pristine, his posture rigid with military discipline.
"Colonel Jurten," he introduces himself, voice clipped and formal. "Commander of the 83rd Regiment of Krieg. Not long ago, you appeared on the death battlefields of Krieg with unknown identity and mysterious origin. One of my loyal soldiers captured you."
You force your voice to work, proclaiming your loyalty to the Emperor. The words tumble out desperately as you try to explain that everything was arranged by His will. Colonel Jurten's eyes search yours for a long moment before he nods slowly. He believes you.
As you shift, testing your body, a realization strikes you. During your unconsciousness, your injuries have completely healed. Not a scratch remains. The wound on your head, the blood, all of it... gone.
You seize the opportunity, proposing to Colonel Jurten that you wish to learn combat skills and survival knowledge. Without hesitation, he agrees.
The Colonel's expression darkens as he explains the situation. "The nuclear fire destroyed the surface of the entire planet. The rebellion that swept across Krieg has been temporarily crushed, but the remaining rebels still resist stubbornly. The loyalists have suffered devastating losses."
He straightens, something fierce burning in his eyes. "It is an honor for the Krieg Corps to have you join us. To fight for the Emperor, the Krieg Corps is willing to pay any price!"
You follow Colonel Jurten as he leads you from your place of imprisonment, confidence swelling in your chest.
You don't notice the fanaticism blazing in the Colonel's eyes, or the shock that flickers beneath it.
On the second day, you find yourself in an underground tunnel on the front lines. A Krieg Watch Captain becomes your superior. He wears a breathing mask that hisses with each breath, a steel helmet, and a black and green waterproof coat that's seen better days.
You attempt conversation, but he offers nothing in return. No greeting, no acknowledgment. He simply turns and walks, gesturing for you to follow. He leads you to an equipment storage area and motions broadly at the racks and crates. Take whatever you want.
As you survey the equipment, you notice something disturbing. Almost everything is covered in dried blood, brown and flaking. You swallow hard but push the thought aside. Quickly, you dress yourself in the same gear as the Krieg soldiers: steel helmet, breathing mask that smells faintly of rubber and chemicals, military boots, and a black waterproof coat.
You load yourself with wooden-handled fragmentation grenades, their weight reassuring against your sides. Then your hands close around a Lucius Type 98 lasgun. The moment you lift it, you know you won't let it go.
Your superior presses a heavy serrated bayonet into your hands. You try to ask if there are any long-handled weapons available, perhaps an engineer shovel, but he gives no response. Just that same heavy silence.
Fully armed, you follow the Watch Captain into battle against the rebels.
The firefight in the underground tunnels is fierce and brutal. Blood sprays against stone walls. Bodies fall. You tense instinctively, watching the Watch Captain's every move, learning his techniques through observation.
An ambush comes out of nowhere. A lone rebel charges directly at you, screaming rage. Your finger squeezes the trigger. The lasgun fires again and again, bright lances of light cutting through the darkness. The battery drains fast, but not before the rebel is reduced to pulp, his body torn apart by the concentrated fire.
You're breathing hard, rapid and shallow. Your heart hammers against your ribs. You're still alive. You're still alive.
The Watch Captain observed everything. When the short battle ends, he finally speaks. His voice is muffled by the breathing mask but clear enough. "The Lucius Type 98 is powerful, but the battery capacity is too small. You need to learn to control your ammunition usage. Maintain combat effectiveness at all times."
Understanding dawns on you. He wasn't unwilling to talk. He was unwilling to trust a mysterious stranger. But you killed the rebel. You proved your loyalty. Now, you are comrades.
On the third day, you cut the throats of two rebels with your heavy serrated bayonet during close combat. The blade catches on bone but you wrench it free. Your performance draws the Watch Captain's attention. The taciturn man actually approaches you afterward, asking in halting words for tips on knife techniques.
On the fourth day, you join an infantry squad under the Watch Captain's leadership. The ten-man squad faces an extremely difficult task. The rebels are launching frenzied attacks against the loyalist underground strongholds. Your mission: stop their advance and attempt to push back.
You gradually adapt to tunnel warfare. You learn to use the shadows, pressing your body into alcoves and corners. You master the art of the wooden-handled grenade, using them in devastating numbers to eliminate small groups of rebels who venture too far ahead.
Between battles, during a rare moment of stillness, the Watch Captain finds you. He hands you something with a nod. An engineer shovel. Well-used, perfectly balanced. A gift.
In the first week, the battle in the underground tunnels grows increasingly savage. The rebel attacks come in waves, relentless as ocean tides. Your squad loses three soldiers in quick succession. Despite asking repeatedly over the past few days, you never learn their names. They die as numbers, as replacements.
In the second week, the stench of burnt flesh mingles with the acrid smell of laser discharge, filling every corner of the underground tunnels. You have grown silent, the words dying in your throat.
The damned rebels deploy heavy weapons. Laser cannons, in these dark and narrow underground spaces. The recoil alone should kill the operators, and it does, but the crazed rebels don't care. Even as they're transformed into corpses, they cause massive casualties to your infantry squad.
A Krieg soldier who fought beside you with perfect coordination is vaporized. One moment he's there, the next he's nothing but blood mist and dust. Not even a relic remains. Rage floods through you, hot and overwhelming. You grab the heavy "Purgatory Gun" and charge into the rebel-held tunnel. You kill scores of them, bodies piling up as you advance. You occupy the underground tunnel and complete the infantry squad's mission.
But you feel nothing except sadness.
In the third week, Colonel Jurten hears about your heroic deeds. He suggests you join his personal guard, promises elite combat training and the opportunity to learn command knowledge.
You reject his proposal outright. Despite the Colonel's strong opposition, you accept the Watch Captain's recommendation instead. You become a Krieg Grenadier.
Something has changed in you, twisted by excessive grief. You've entered a strange state, simultaneously crazed and calm.
You seem to long for death, yet inexpressible loyalty prevents you from seeking it. Instead, you pour the endless rage of the Emperor upon the rebels who keep counterattacking, channeling everything into violence.
This time, you recapture the rebel-held underground tunnels at the cost of only a few fingers. They'll grow back, or they won't. It doesn't matter.
Your outstanding performances continue, one after another. You've apparently attracted the attention of the rebel commander. Your next battles will become increasingly difficult.
In the fourth week, Colonel Jurten personally issues an order. Your infantry squad must hold the underground tunnels you've occupied. There is no order to retreat. None. Unless you choose to submit and join Colonel Jurten's Krieg Guard.
You try to explain to the Watch Captain, persuading him to temporarily disobey orders. You'll stay alone to defend. But he doesn't respond. He simply leads the two remaining Krieg soldiers in the infantry squad to silently set up a double-linked heavy logging gun. They carry more wooden-handled grenades forward.
You fall into silence. Wordlessly, you hoist the heavy "Purgatory Gun" onto your shoulder, secure your engineer shovel, and grab a Lucius Type 98 lasgun. You enter the tunnel to set traps, burying mines in the dirt and shadows.
The battle that belongs to you and the entire infantry squad begins.
The roar of the double-linked heavy logging gun is deafening, rattling your teeth and bones. The lasguns flash desperately, their light so bright it almost turns the dark underground tunnel into day.
Yet the rebels come like a surging tide. One wave is wiped out. Another rushes forward immediately.
The two ordinary Krieg soldiers fall beside you. Even in death, their fingers never release the triggers of their lasguns. They keep firing until the batteries are completely drained, until their bodies cool.
The battle situation grows critical. You detonate the buried mines. The violent shockwave carries the flesh and blood of countless rebels, splattering against your waterproof coat in a warm spray. You turn instinctively, and your heart stops.
At some point, the Watch Captain operating the logging gun has had half his body evaporated by a laser blast. Yet he continues pulling the trigger with only the last fragments of consciousness, his remaining hand locked on the firing mechanism.
The logging gun falls silent. The rebels organize another attack. Behind your breathing mask, blood and tears leak from the corners of your eyes.
Silently, you secure the battery of the "Purgatory Gun" to your back. You cover your body with wooden-handled grenades, clusters of them hanging from every available surface.
You retreat a short distance and crouch in the shadows, waiting for your moment.
In a daze, you remember the taciturn Watch Captain. How he occasionally recited lines of prayer during the quiet moments.
"Breathing is war, death is tranquility. Living is shame, death is atonement." You stumble over the words as you begin to recite them.
More and more rebels pour into the underground tunnel like a flood. You pull the pins from most of the grenades. Then you leap from the shadows.
In an instant, your roar echoes throughout the underground tunnel!
"KRIEG... CHARGE!!!"