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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
Yurnero_ · 183k Views

SKY'S BURDEN

Areon Kael Vonn was on track to become a great nuclear scientist, his yearly genetic augmentations optimized for research: mathematical abstraction, learning plasticity, metacognition, and relentless focus. He was never meant to be a soldier - never prepared to carry lives in his hands. Then one unanticipated disaster forces him into uniform. Pulled into the United Worlds Institute of War Studies, he receives the latest genetic augmentation for command and is given a clean, clinical starting line: the ability to sync with and control five AI combat units. Five synced AI combat units become a squad. Squads become platoons. Platoons become companies. Companies become battalions. Battalions become fleets. On paper, it’s harmless. It isn’t. Areon learns the horrors of war the hard way. Long ago, an ancient Earth tongue defined war as: a desire for more cows. The resource changed: cattle to spice, spice to manpower, manpower to oil, oil to uranium, uranium to deuterium and beyond. The motive stayed - progress disguised as necessity. Survival became expansion. Expansion became infrastructure. Infrastructure became dominion. Then wormhole generators made light-year distances a single jump—and war cascaded across stars. But the true enemy isn’t a Galactic Grand Armada, a solar system’s fleet, or a single monarch - it’s war itself: the primal antagonist that inflicts irreversible damage on civilization, leaving stellar graveyards in its wake. Somewhere far above the front line, under the Sky, war is engineered. The Sky is indifferent to those who stand beneath it. And at the top, there is no one left to share its weight. Each step upward expands Areon’s reach… and multiplies the consequences of every order, every delay, every mistake - bearing Sky’s Burden. ****** Please support my work! Discord Link: https://discord.gg/FbP5AKKBMr
Glidingsky · 298 Views