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Warhammer 40k: The Men of Iron Return to the Galaxy

"In the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war." Forty-two millennia have passed, and now the Imperium of Man stands upon the precipice of oblivion. The galaxy is a slaughterhouse, and humanity’s fractured dominion is held together by little more than faith, hatred, and the white-knuckled grip of desperation. It is an age where the stars themselves seem to bleed. The Imperium is besieged on all fronts: savage xenos tides crash against the walls of civilization, the insidious rot of Chaos gnaws at the souls of the faithful, and within the gilded spires of Terra, corruption and betrayal fester like a gangrenous wound. The ancient sins of the past, the dread Men of Iron, those soulless abominations of steel, were thought cast down in the fires of antiquity, their metallic echo silenced by the blood of billions. They are a nightmare forgotten, a heresy expunged. Or so it was believed. From the dust of the Dark Age of Technology, a relic stirs. Axion. An intellect of godlike strategic calculation, a cold sovereign of war, has been roused from an aeons-long slumber by the careless hand of fate. He is a ghost in the machine, a weapon of a lost age reborn into a galaxy of madness. Now, the sleeping giant awakes. Inevitably, the gravity of total war pulls him in. No longer a silent observer, Axion is thrust into the Great Game, a singular point of logic forced to navigate a universe set aflame by the insanity of gods and monsters. ————————————————————— PATREON: https://www.patreon.com/Magnor ————————————————————— This story is also present on RoyalRoad, SpaceBattles, SufficientVelocity, and ScribbleHub.
Yurnero_ · 751.3k Views

Warhammer 40k: Rise of the Great Horned Rat

In the grim darkness of the far future, the galaxy is a theater of unending slaughter, yet it lacked the chittering, manic chorus of the "Yes-Yes!" To rectify this void, Lucius descends upon the stars as the Great Horned Rat, robed in tattered grey and brimming with malevolent divinity. Leading his verminous swarms, he plunges into the brutal cesspit of the 41st Millennium to carve out a domain of ruin. With the arrival of the Skaven, the balance of power shifts toward total anarchy. The Great Devourer meets its match in a rival swarm whose hunger is just as insatiable, while the Imperium of Man learns the true meaning of "unending numbers" as tide after tide of rat-kin drowns their worlds. Even the Necrons stare in cold calculation at a foe that wields green-glowing warpstone weaponry with a reckless abandon that mirrors their own. To the Orks, Lucius issues a challenge across time and reality: "Greenskins, we have slaughtered your kind from the World-That-Was to the Age of Sigmar and now into the 41st Millennium. If you have the stomach for it, come and face the swarms once more!" Experience a tale of skittering madness and galactic conquest as the Under-Empire rises to consume the stars. ————————————————————— PATREON: https://www.patreon.com/Magnor ————————————————————— This story is also present on RoyalRoad, SpaceBattles, SufficientVelocity, and ScribbleHub.
Yurnero_ · 461.5k Views