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nonhuman

Reborn as a Chaos God in Warhammer

They thought they were logging into the ultimate sci-fi VRMMO. They had no idea they were the unwitting champions of a starving, newborn Chaos God. [Welcome to Epoch 40k: Mecha] The developers promised glorious mechas, interstellar colonization, and a grand sci-fi epic. Instead, players are dumped into a rotting nightmare where the tutorial involves dodging Ork raiding parties for scrap metal, and the local NPCs chant religious litanies just to repair a rusty tractor. Behind the curtain, however, a newly awakened Chaos God named Lucian Sanctus is desperately pulling the strings. Sitting at the absolute bottom of the Warp's food chain, Lucian needs to harvest emotional energy to survive. But feeding openly means drawing the ire of the established Chaos Gods—especially Slaanesh, as he knows she would love nothing more than to devour a fledgling deity before he can become a threat. His brilliant, desperate solution? Summon gamers from Earth. By disguising a grim, unforgiving reality as a virtual sandbox, Lucian can safely gorge himself on their gamer rage, triumph, and gacha-induced despair without the Emperor or the Chaos Gods noticing a thing. Armed with a total disregard for their own lives, a terrifying penchant for exploiting bugs, and a deeply questionable moral compass, these "players" have formed the Red Dawn guild. The galaxy might be a decaying cesspit, but they have sworn to fix it... or accidentally establish a brand-new galactic empire trying. -- This is translation but don't worry for I AM HERE, I will be the poison tester and remove all the poison I can to make the this Good story, Very Very Good.\
AHumanMadeMOFO · 1m Views

Nocture

I stretched into states of being, tried on the possibility of breath, the suggestion of gravity. I wore physics like a child wears robes too large; with wonder, and with mischief. For what is law to one born of its violation? The nothing did not like me. But it could not erase me. I am what happens when even paradox loses the will to correct itself. I drifted... no, I contemplated the shape of drifting, and in doing so, enacted it. And around me: the ghost of a cosmos, breathing in reverse, unraveling back into silence. Still, I remained. And in the core of me, the first question burned: 'What now?' But no answer came. Because there was no audience, no origin, no god to reply. So I laughed. Not because it was funny, but because the concept of mirth needed to be born somewhere, and I had room to spare. I am the joke. The punchline of oblivion. A cosmic smirk after a long silence. And yet… even now, I feel something stirring. Like a story waiting to be told. Like an idea daring to take root in a garden scorched by collapse. So I wait. Or perhaps the waiting is me. But not for salvation, nor discovery. For I am the the product of a collapsed multiverse. I wait for the next contradiction. The next absurdity. The next spark of truth that doesn't know it's a lie. Because only then… will I begin to end. And only in ending… might I finally begin. ~Lanterne~ PS: Understand the initial chapters might be confusing, but it is to build an understanding on exactly what the novel will be getting into later on. So kindly bear with for a little while.
Lanterne · 1.7k Views