When the Golden Idiot is finally slain the unlucky victim of a ROB gets to deal with another...
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Ork? Troll? What's the difference? They're both green. [Warhammer40k/Post-Worm CYOA]
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The Golden Man is dead
- Location
- Poland
When the Golden Idiot is finally slain the unlucky victim of a ROB gets to deal with another Golden Man, specifically the God Emperor of Mankind. Deciding he had enough he gets a brilliant idea to troll the Imperium... become an Ork Warboss. What could possibly go wrong? Most likely a one shot unless the muse strikes me again. It feeds on comments and feedback by the way.
Just a moment earlier he appeared in a flash of golden light, now that his quest was over, so he might be forgiven for not noticing that he appeared in the midst of an Imperial Guard encampment. In fact he appeared right next to a very peculiar commissar. You see, that commissar had something that he hated with a burning passion exceptional even among the most zealous followers of the Imperial credo, and that thing was Psykers.
He was also incredibly trigger happy.
When you see an unknown man in a heretically red robe probably dyed in the blood of sacrificed Imperials, the mask that only reminded him of wraithbone made by foul Eldar xenos, and the undeniable proof of warp sorcery with how this man flew, literally flew in the air as if laws of gravity simply didn't apply to him there was only one thing Commissar Baltus could've done.
So when our wayward Superhero glanced down the first thing he noticed were the hundreds of barrels pointing right at him. The second, was that someone looking suspiciously like a Commissar from his favorite Warhammer 40k Dawn of War game was ordering to shoot him. Or invite him in for tea and crumpets. You never know. Low Gothic is nothing like English after all.
Thinking it quite possible, or rather likely that it was the first one he decided that with the small amount of time he had left it was his duty to say something very important. Something deep, something so profound that it will forever remain in history as his famous last words.
So he said the first thing that came to his head.
"Fuck me!"
Well, it's not like he had a long time to prepare.
He had even less when Commissar Baltus barked a word and as one hundreds of guns some lasrifles, some conventional autoguns roared. Proud soldiers one and all. Fresh from bootcamp and veterans of many battles. For a full minute they all shot him until from everywhere only the *click* *click* of empty magazines could be heard. They all hit with typical Imperial Guard accuracy.
That is to say, they all missed.
The robed figure slowly opened his fingers that covered his eyes to check if he was dead already and to his astonishment (and the Imperial Guard's) he wasn't. Sure the ground around him was scorched and filled with bullet holes, but he was untouched.
Even his cape went unruffled.
"Ha! I've got superpowers, bitch!" The crimson robed man yelled in joy and showed the Commissar the greeting of his people. Lone middle finger pointing to the sky and other fingers clenched in a fist. He looked to the sky and using his powers simply lifted himself to the sky.
He also remembered to shout a farewell behind him. To do otherwise just wouldn't be thoughtful.
A fading "Suck ittttttttttttt-!" could be heard behind the retreating figure, but since the Guardsmen didn't know English they couldn't fully appreciate the gesture, however the intent behind it was universal.
The Guardsmen were left wondering what just happened, but since they were practical people they decided to call it "Warp fuckery" and leave it at that. They had bigger concerns on their minds. The ongoing war with the Orks, what's for dinner, and the big one: What numbers are going to appear in today's game of Whack-the-incompetent-guardsman.
The smart ones left immediately.
Commissar Baltus however was rooted to the spot, seething in rage that would make a Khorne Berserker proud.
"Man. What rotten luck that we couldn't hit him eh, Commish?" Timmy the 16 year old Guardsman recruit commented in his nonchalant manner.
Commissar Baltus looked at Timmy in a way that the recruit only interpreted as meaning "Why yes Timmy! How observant of you! You'll go far son. In fact, let's promote you right now."
That day Jack the communication officer got Bingo and won a substantial amount of money.
WAAAGH!!!
The man formerly known as Esper was glad that was over. Sure, the deal was that when Zion was dead he would move on, but he never thought he would end up in Warhammer 40k.
There were only a couple of worlds he wouldn't have picked over this one. One of them was so bleak and dark that not even his powers would help him.
The other was Teletubbies.
He considered his option as he flew. He had three slots he could fill with powers. One was filled for him on instinct when the Guardsmen started shooting him and was for redirecting things, but since he wasn't attached to it he removed it.
The second was Telekinesis and that was one power that he never once let go. He had it from day one and he had it right now. There was no other power in his opinion that gave him so much mobility, utility, offense and defense. Flying? Sure. Need to kill a dude? It has got you covered. Something is coming right at your head at high speed? Just grab it. Or better yet, create a field of tactile telekinesis that will stop the projectile on impact. Need to get a remote? Why bother leaving the couch? It was just perfect.
The last power made him shudder from the memories.
Gestalt mind.
Note to self: Any plan that relies on you being mind controlled by Khepri is stupid. But hey, if it's stupid, but it works then it's not stupid! Why fix what ain't broke, right?
Still, the memories of being puppetted like that gave him the chills. Worse still, there lurked horrors in this world that could do the same or worse to him and that was just unacceptable. That left him with only one option.
Since the Eidolon power that he had gave him access to any power he wanted that meant that either cancelling or controlling the Warp was possible.
He had no other choice. If he wanted to survive he had to fill one slot with this power permanently.
But that still left one very important question for him.
What does he want to do here? There was no way he was going into world-saving business again. He had enough of that last time, and besides, the job market was looking pretty bleak for people like him.
Maybe he could settle down, find a nice girl, get a job from 9 to 5 (AM in both cases, since hivers had incredibly shitty lives) while trying not to get executed for heresy in the meantime.
Nah, that sounds boring.
Maybe he could be a Space Pirate with a swanky hat, looting and raiding all over the place. That did kind of sound fun.
The answer came to him when he was flying over an Orkish base. Slowly, a plan started forming in his mind. It was crazy, it was stupid.
It sounded hilarious.
A grin formed under his mask just thinking about it.
His mother always said he should travel, see the world, experience different cultures...
Or should it be Kulturs in this case?
He slowly descended on the base.
Yes, being a Warboss sounded like a perfect job description to him.
WAAAGH!!!
"Ha! Suck it! Fuck you Zion! Fuck you, you asshole. Fuck you Rob. And you thought I couldn't do it with only Eidolon and nothing else? Ha! I sure showed you." A man in crimson red robe with a white featureless mask whooped and cheered.
Just a moment earlier he appeared in a flash of golden light, now that his quest was over, so he might be forgiven for not noticing that he appeared in the midst of an Imperial Guard encampment. In fact he appeared right next to a very peculiar commissar. You see, that commissar had something that he hated with a burning passion exceptional even among the most zealous followers of the Imperial credo, and that thing was Psykers.
He was also incredibly trigger happy.
When you see an unknown man in a heretically red robe probably dyed in the blood of sacrificed Imperials, the mask that only reminded him of wraithbone made by foul Eldar xenos, and the undeniable proof of warp sorcery with how this man flew, literally flew in the air as if laws of gravity simply didn't apply to him there was only one thing Commissar Baltus could've done.
So when our wayward Superhero glanced down the first thing he noticed were the hundreds of barrels pointing right at him. The second, was that someone looking suspiciously like a Commissar from his favorite Warhammer 40k Dawn of War game was ordering to shoot him. Or invite him in for tea and crumpets. You never know. Low Gothic is nothing like English after all.
Thinking it quite possible, or rather likely that it was the first one he decided that with the small amount of time he had left it was his duty to say something very important. Something deep, something so profound that it will forever remain in history as his famous last words.
So he said the first thing that came to his head.
"Fuck me!"
Well, it's not like he had a long time to prepare.
He had even less when Commissar Baltus barked a word and as one hundreds of guns some lasrifles, some conventional autoguns roared. Proud soldiers one and all. Fresh from bootcamp and veterans of many battles. For a full minute they all shot him until from everywhere only the *click* *click* of empty magazines could be heard. They all hit with typical Imperial Guard accuracy.
That is to say, they all missed.
The robed figure slowly opened his fingers that covered his eyes to check if he was dead already and to his astonishment (and the Imperial Guard's) he wasn't. Sure the ground around him was scorched and filled with bullet holes, but he was untouched.
Even his cape went unruffled.
"Ha! I've got superpowers, bitch!" The crimson robed man yelled in joy and showed the Commissar the greeting of his people. Lone middle finger pointing to the sky and other fingers clenched in a fist. He looked to the sky and using his powers simply lifted himself to the sky.
He also remembered to shout a farewell behind him. To do otherwise just wouldn't be thoughtful.
A fading "Suck ittttttttttttt-!" could be heard behind the retreating figure, but since the Guardsmen didn't know English they couldn't fully appreciate the gesture, however the intent behind it was universal.
The Guardsmen were left wondering what just happened, but since they were practical people they decided to call it "Warp fuckery" and leave it at that. They had bigger concerns on their minds. The ongoing war with the Orks, what's for dinner, and the big one: What numbers are going to appear in today's game of Whack-the-incompetent-guardsman.
The smart ones left immediately.
Commissar Baltus however was rooted to the spot, seething in rage that would make a Khorne Berserker proud.
"Man. What rotten luck that we couldn't hit him eh, Commish?" Timmy the 16 year old Guardsman recruit commented in his nonchalant manner.
Commissar Baltus looked at Timmy in a way that the recruit only interpreted as meaning "Why yes Timmy! How observant of you! You'll go far son. In fact, let's promote you right now."
That day Jack the communication officer got Bingo and won a substantial amount of money.
WAAAGH!!!
There were only a couple of worlds he wouldn't have picked over this one. One of them was so bleak and dark that not even his powers would help him.
The other was Teletubbies.
He considered his option as he flew. He had three slots he could fill with powers. One was filled for him on instinct when the Guardsmen started shooting him and was for redirecting things, but since he wasn't attached to it he removed it.
The second was Telekinesis and that was one power that he never once let go. He had it from day one and he had it right now. There was no other power in his opinion that gave him so much mobility, utility, offense and defense. Flying? Sure. Need to kill a dude? It has got you covered. Something is coming right at your head at high speed? Just grab it. Or better yet, create a field of tactile telekinesis that will stop the projectile on impact. Need to get a remote? Why bother leaving the couch? It was just perfect.
The last power made him shudder from the memories.
Gestalt mind.
Note to self: Any plan that relies on you being mind controlled by Khepri is stupid. But hey, if it's stupid, but it works then it's not stupid! Why fix what ain't broke, right?
Still, the memories of being puppetted like that gave him the chills. Worse still, there lurked horrors in this world that could do the same or worse to him and that was just unacceptable. That left him with only one option.
Since the Eidolon power that he had gave him access to any power he wanted that meant that either cancelling or controlling the Warp was possible.
He had no other choice. If he wanted to survive he had to fill one slot with this power permanently.
But that still left one very important question for him.
What does he want to do here? There was no way he was going into world-saving business again. He had enough of that last time, and besides, the job market was looking pretty bleak for people like him.
Maybe he could settle down, find a nice girl, get a job from 9 to 5 (AM in both cases, since hivers had incredibly shitty lives) while trying not to get executed for heresy in the meantime.
Nah, that sounds boring.
Maybe he could be a Space Pirate with a swanky hat, looting and raiding all over the place. That did kind of sound fun.
The answer came to him when he was flying over an Orkish base. Slowly, a plan started forming in his mind. It was crazy, it was stupid.
It sounded hilarious.
A grin formed under his mask just thinking about it.
His mother always said he should travel, see the world, experience different cultures...
Or should it be Kulturs in this case?
He slowly descended on the base.
Yes, being a Warboss sounded like a perfect job description to him.
Last edited:
- Location
- Viet Nam
Well, i can't say for certain that this would be well receive. I can however say that i enjoy the first tit bit of this.
The Grey Mage
Certified Team Flare Hater
- Location
- Parallel Universe 43-j
Pretty interesting, mind if I give ya a couple spelling and grammar corrections?
- Location
- Poland
Sure, go ahead.
Dark Ness
Rises Where Silence Dies
- Location
- The Primordial Soup
I definitely want more. This is all set up, and I want to see the act that it is setting up.
When you put it that way, immediately ordering an attack sounds completely reasonable.
The Grey Mage
Certified Team Flare Hater
- Location
- Parallel Universe 43-j
A man in a crimson red robe with a white featureless mask whooped and cheered.
Just a moment earlier he had appeared in a flash of golden light, and with his quest was over, he might be forgiven for not noticing that he had appeared in the midst of an Imperial Guard encampment.
Or invite him in for tea and crumpets. How would he know? It's not like he spoke Low Gothic.
Thinking it quite possible, or rather, quite likely, that it was the former he decided that with the small amount of time he had left it was his duty to say something very important.
Something so deep, so profound, that it would forever remain in history as his famous last words
He had even less time when Commissar Baltus barked an order and hundreds of guns, some lasrifles, some conventional autoguns, roared as one.
Commissar Baltus however, was rooted to the spot, seething in a rage that would make a Khorne Berserker proud. (I'm not sure if there's a better word, but it seems like there might be.)
"Man, sucks that we couldn't hit him eh, Commish?" Timmy a sixteen year old Guardsman recruit remarked nonchalantly. (I believe that Commish is shorthand for Commissioner, not Commisar, though I'm not the biggest 40k buff in the world.)
- Location
- Poland
Just Eidolon, nothing else. No blank. The changer of ways can go raep him any time he wants to and the laughing god is too busy being amused to try just yet.
@The Grey Mage I'll incorporate some of your suggestions, but not all. Some word choices are a stylistic choice, because slightly improper English is just the way people speak.
"You never know" for example is a phrase I've heard many, many time. Commish is also a slang, or colloquial way to refer to a Commissar in this case.
Why thank you. Dark Ness is completely right in that it's too early to end this, so I'll definitely continue. It's partially born out of wondering what happened to that Space Aztec Primarch-Si fic, a couple of really good Planetary Annihilation fics in Warhammer 40k and a couple of other things.
I'm pretty sad nobody commented on the Bingo yet. I found it pretty funny, then again it is my first attempt at writing comedy.
Last edited:
- Location
- Neptune
It's funny but it's realistic background flavour kind of funny. Bored soldiers bet on anything and everything, absolutely nothing unusual there.
A Warboss is born
- Location
- Poland
No amount of preparation can prepare you for Orks. It really can't.
To master the WAAAGH!!! force you have to immerse yourself in it. Become one with it.
To WAAAGH!!! or not to WAAAGH!!! there is no zogging try.
As the superhero flew towards the Orkish base he made a checklist of things he needed to do.
Thinker power to teach him Orkish? Done.
A Warp power to not get eaten by demons of the warp and possibly get access to the WAAAGH? Done.
Some way to trick them into thinking he's an Ork? Done. It's not like the Ork think the Humies are good for anything other than krumping.
He only needed to make himself larger than any other Ork. That was all. Because he had a mask and a huge red cape that covered most of his body nobody could prove that he wasn't an Ork. If somebody accussed him of not being Orky all he had to do was smash the offending git, see? Brilliant. Ork logic at it's finest.
He also used a thinker power to tell him about the local Orks. Any information could be useful. For example the fact that Blood Axes made up the majority of the local tribe, which was great. This clan was widely regarded as the least Orky as they used cowardly things like camouflage, planning and running away.
Perfect.
There was only thing left.
To make an entrance.
'ERE WE GO!
WAAAGH!!!
Warboss Urguz Orkhamma was bored. The humies made for good fightin, but he hadn't seen them in days and that made him mighty angry. What a cowardly lot. They fall down after you chop off their bitz. How weak. Just last week Nob Booma got both his arms chopped off and now he had a Power Klaw. In fact he had two. Double the smashing! The finest Ork teknologee around. Booma was also happy with the changes. He was ready to have annuver go!
Thankfully Gork answered his need when from the sky fell down a figure all in red, like some Evil Sun git. Maybe he loved speed so much that his red paint allowed him to fly like a Stormboy. He was big and red like some Humie boys he fought in the past. Blood Pig-ons? Sumfing like that.
There was only one possible thing that someone would come here. To have a go. Warboss Urguz Orkhamma was happy to oblige him.
"Boyz! Stomp him! WAAAAAAAGH!" He bellowed out right away. His cry resonating not only with the Orks that could hear it, but also through the WAAAGH.
The Orks converged on the figure in seconds, their big hulking bodies being also surprisingly quick. Unfortunately for them (or furtunately from a certain point of view) the lone man proved to be a tough nut to crack. Many an Ork cracked his teeth on him, both figuratively and literally in a case of one boy that decided biting was an acceptable form of attack after all of his limbs were ripped off with telekinesis.
And not only his. The carnage was absolutely brutal, the bodies of the Orks were piling on the ground and their blood stained everything around. You just can't beat the practicality of a red cape, Esper mused. A green one would've been just awful. And it would've turned red by now anyway.
Choppas and shootas and even burnas were not enough to bybass his supernatural toughness. The telekinesis that was his main weapon came with enough multitasking ability that he could cover himself with a passive shield, while bashing an Ork over the head with another Ork. The Orkish bodies were flying and splattering everywhere. Some were even thrown over the horizon.
Somewhere far away one guardsman won enough money for top of the line carapace armour. His fellow soldiers were laughing at him when he made that bet, but they certainly weren't laughing now.
"Alright ya lot! I'm the biggest and the strongest so you better listen good! I'm da boss now so you better listen to me or I'll stomp ya till you're flat like a squig pie! Got it?" The (even redder) figure shouted out.
"But you're not one of us! Who are you?" One boy responded now that everyone was beaten down and unable to fight any more. Which is an impressive amount of damage considering their biology. Even more impressive is the fact that most of them will be all right by tomorrow.
But not this one.
"Wot? I'll show you! I'm a propa Ork!" The large human approached the prone Ork and stomped his head in. Space Marines everywhere would give that stomp a ten out of ten, and even the local Orks were impressed. "See?"
"Whoa, boss. You really is the biggest. What should we call you now?" Another boy asked. This one was wearing a skull shaped mask, and as he was also a member of the Kult of Speed he appreciated the new boss'es choice in Orky fashion. He was very fast in killing them, probably because of his red cape, all wyrd with the way he was throwing them around without touching them, and he was all sneaky like, looking like a humie, but in truth being big, strong and Orky. That was an exceptional boss.
Subconsciously the Orks could also feel him in the WAAAGH, and the WAAAGH don't lie.
The new Warboss however had his hand rubbing his chin, and he hmmmed in thought. Coming up with an impressive Orky name wasn't easy.
"Alright ya lot! Call me Marduk Godslaya. Now let's go krump some gitz. Who's with me? WAAAGH!!!" he yelled.
"WAAAGH!" the boys responded.
They had a new Warboss now. Nothing unusual there. They had new warbosses all the time. As long as the fighting was good they didn't care.
I pity the fools that would stand in their way.
To master the WAAAGH!!! force you have to immerse yourself in it. Become one with it.
To WAAAGH!!! or not to WAAAGH!!! there is no zogging try.
As the superhero flew towards the Orkish base he made a checklist of things he needed to do.
Thinker power to teach him Orkish? Done.
A Warp power to not get eaten by demons of the warp and possibly get access to the WAAAGH? Done.
Some way to trick them into thinking he's an Ork? Done. It's not like the Ork think the Humies are good for anything other than krumping.
He only needed to make himself larger than any other Ork. That was all. Because he had a mask and a huge red cape that covered most of his body nobody could prove that he wasn't an Ork. If somebody accussed him of not being Orky all he had to do was smash the offending git, see? Brilliant. Ork logic at it's finest.
He also used a thinker power to tell him about the local Orks. Any information could be useful. For example the fact that Blood Axes made up the majority of the local tribe, which was great. This clan was widely regarded as the least Orky as they used cowardly things like camouflage, planning and running away.
Perfect.
There was only thing left.
To make an entrance.
'ERE WE GO!
WAAAGH!!!
Thankfully Gork answered his need when from the sky fell down a figure all in red, like some Evil Sun git. Maybe he loved speed so much that his red paint allowed him to fly like a Stormboy. He was big and red like some Humie boys he fought in the past. Blood Pig-ons? Sumfing like that.
There was only one possible thing that someone would come here. To have a go. Warboss Urguz Orkhamma was happy to oblige him.
"Boyz! Stomp him! WAAAAAAAGH!" He bellowed out right away. His cry resonating not only with the Orks that could hear it, but also through the WAAAGH.
The Orks converged on the figure in seconds, their big hulking bodies being also surprisingly quick. Unfortunately for them (or furtunately from a certain point of view) the lone man proved to be a tough nut to crack. Many an Ork cracked his teeth on him, both figuratively and literally in a case of one boy that decided biting was an acceptable form of attack after all of his limbs were ripped off with telekinesis.
And not only his. The carnage was absolutely brutal, the bodies of the Orks were piling on the ground and their blood stained everything around. You just can't beat the practicality of a red cape, Esper mused. A green one would've been just awful. And it would've turned red by now anyway.
Choppas and shootas and even burnas were not enough to bybass his supernatural toughness. The telekinesis that was his main weapon came with enough multitasking ability that he could cover himself with a passive shield, while bashing an Ork over the head with another Ork. The Orkish bodies were flying and splattering everywhere. Some were even thrown over the horizon.
Somewhere far away one guardsman won enough money for top of the line carapace armour. His fellow soldiers were laughing at him when he made that bet, but they certainly weren't laughing now.
"Alright ya lot! I'm the biggest and the strongest so you better listen good! I'm da boss now so you better listen to me or I'll stomp ya till you're flat like a squig pie! Got it?" The (even redder) figure shouted out.
"But you're not one of us! Who are you?" One boy responded now that everyone was beaten down and unable to fight any more. Which is an impressive amount of damage considering their biology. Even more impressive is the fact that most of them will be all right by tomorrow.
But not this one.
"Wot? I'll show you! I'm a propa Ork!" The large human approached the prone Ork and stomped his head in. Space Marines everywhere would give that stomp a ten out of ten, and even the local Orks were impressed. "See?"
"Whoa, boss. You really is the biggest. What should we call you now?" Another boy asked. This one was wearing a skull shaped mask, and as he was also a member of the Kult of Speed he appreciated the new boss'es choice in Orky fashion. He was very fast in killing them, probably because of his red cape, all wyrd with the way he was throwing them around without touching them, and he was all sneaky like, looking like a humie, but in truth being big, strong and Orky. That was an exceptional boss.
Subconsciously the Orks could also feel him in the WAAAGH, and the WAAAGH don't lie.
The new Warboss however had his hand rubbing his chin, and he hmmmed in thought. Coming up with an impressive Orky name wasn't easy.
"Alright ya lot! Call me Marduk Godslaya. Now let's go krump some gitz. Who's with me? WAAAGH!!!" he yelled.
"WAAAGH!" the boys responded.
They had a new Warboss now. Nothing unusual there. They had new warbosses all the time. As long as the fighting was good they didn't care.
I pity the fools that would stand in their way.
Last edited:
- Location
- Poland
Funny you should mention that...
I always wanted a Tau battlesuit. And the Penitence engine looks so cool.
Easter
Laziest lazier
- Location
- Bed
Maybe because the imperials are more their style seeing as the eldar are pretty much about elegance and the tau are about range.
Dark Ness
Rises Where Silence Dies
- Location
- The Primordial Soup
I think it is because the Imperial Tech doesn't teleport away like Necrons (I think there actually was an Ork with some Necro tech, though), nor does it work on incompatible Warp principles like Eldar tech. There is no explanation for why they can't take Tau tech, though....
(Besides the fact that most Orks aren't anywhere near the Tau)
Jackercracks
In a British accent
- Location
- England
's probably thematic. Tau guns are all wimpy after all.
Given the ongoing War of Dakka where the orks lootin' of Tau flashy gun is threatening to have the bluies loose a shooting war I'd say they loot them whenever possible.
It's just, you know, the Tau are at best a modest (but growing) regional power on the galactic scale (and relatively recent ones at that) when the Imperium (and humans in general) are almost everywhere with relatively uniform tech for many thousands of years. Lootin' humie gubbins and stuff is simply much easier you know?
It's just, you know, the Tau are at best a modest (but growing) regional power on the galactic scale (and relatively recent ones at that) when the Imperium (and humans in general) are almost everywhere with relatively uniform tech for many thousands of years. Lootin' humie gubbins and stuff is simply much easier you know?
- Location
- Leeds
Wow. Best CYOA.
Omake Marduk vs GEoM by CrunchySharpie
CrunchySharpie
Professional Harem Consultant
- Location
- Sharpie Factory
This promises to be most amusing. I just want to see this conversation between Esper and GEoM.
----
"Yo!" *Marduk walks into the Golden Throne room, giving zero fucks*
"Foul BEAST, what are you doing here in this solemn place!?" *Emprah throwin a bitch fit, lightning arcing off of his desiccated ass.*
"Just coming to check out my competition, nice place you have here by the way. *TapsGolden Throne.* "Oh, and don't try any that psyker bullshit on me. *Taps noggin* "Immune to that at the moment.*
"How?" *Emp's eyes widen as his mental feelers feel the inherent empty wrongness of a blank but Marduk is still using A-class Psyker level powers* "What warp sorcery would allow such a thing?"
It was too perfect. "Fuck you, that's how."
"... Why? If you are merely here to gloat, what drives you to attack my people, our people? Don't assume I can't feel the blood of humanity in you."
"... Huh, didn't expect that." *Removes mask, showing human face. "You got me, I'm just a man in a mask, bored out of his mind and a chip on his shoulder from the last Golden Asshole I had to kill." *Places the mask back on* "And oh yeah, I've already killed a Golden Asshole who was... hrm, probably your equal or greater in power. Granted, that was by Xanatos Gambit'ing the hell out of things, required a few unethical modifications, leaving a teenager to the tender mercies of Bonesaw and Panacea while at the same time breaking a few physical laws of the universe. *Beat* but hey, can't do everything right, no one's perfect. Sorry Alec you poor poor, lucky bastard."
"I...don't understand? You're doing all of this...out of boredom? to slake some cruel amusement?" *Anger, vibrant and electric as the energy in the air took on a violent turn.* "What cruelty, what savagery do you kneel to, to wish for such things to pass?"
"I'm a gamer? That's sorta par for the course, something about video game cruelty potential iunno *Shrugs shoulders* "You should thank me really. I'm not just kicking the fresh ass that your tin boys are bringing to the party, Everyone in the galaxy is getting a taste of my size twelves. Except the Eldar, they're being rather... huh, they kind of like me actually, said something about the prophecy last time I stomped a mud hole in one of their asses, been pretty good trade partners since." *shrugs again* "But long story short, I'm not really pressuring Humanity much, sure I'm kicking the asses of all the corrupt, chaos worshiping, locust swarm bringing, undead fuck heads that I can find, but most of the others? Eh, I've convinced me Boyz to leave the krumping to things that are actually fun to krump."
"..." *The Emperor looked nonplussed at that, as if he had sucked on a psychic lemon and found the taste heretically displeasing.* "You're... I have no words. None."
"Well that's good!" *Marduk beams behind his mask, somehow showing cheerfulness through the pleasant sheen of his mask. "Cuz I got a bit of a present for you." *His hands light up in an eldritch light*
*The Emperors eyes widen as he too calls upon his powers, far too late however as Marduk's power washes over him.*
*Marduk disappears as the Emperors warp energies pass through the space he once stood. An ethereal voice echoed in the silence. "Hugs and kisses thunder nuts, enjoy yourself for a bit and don't fuck up this time."
*The Emprah blinked, staring down at his rejuvenated form, in full power armor."
Well... the top half anyway.
*The Golden Idiot MKII blinked again, staring down at his... ahem, power sword and wondered at his real flesh and blood for the first time in, by the warp, ten thousand years.*
"Oh, your holinesss~~!"
*A number of hands, feminine hands Emp noted, grabbed his arms and legs. The women that were attached to them were of such obscene beauty that even he had to lean back in the face of what would normally be called a perfect ten. Perfect tens, elevens even. Twelves on a foretold day with the celestial planets aligning. They were hot was the chainsword he was driving at.*
*But he felt not a single Slanneshi taint to them. They were pure, virginal. Perfect even. Perfect... As the throng of feminine wiles tackled him to the ground with a strength he'd strongly doubt even his Son's had, he couldn't help but ponder the strange young man who had visited him. Non homosexual of course, even he was only of a certain proclivity, no matter what Horus may have said on the matter. The little twit. That's when the situation became more apparent to him and the pile of females started doing things that they really shouldn't be doing in a place that had sacrificed billions of lives to keep him alive. With a flick of his mental might the Emprah deposited himself and the bevy of beautiful haremites into his personal quarters upon his flagship, kept pristine even after all these years.*
*Waste not, want not after all and he had ten millennia worth of frustrations to work out*
---
Tau railguns are actually some of the strongest ballistic weapons on the 'current' battlefield. Nothing on DAoT tech, but similar to around Great Crusade levels of tech. Tau use these weapons across their entire empire while Great Crusade tech is sparse and only in the hands of higher ranked individuals. Tau are also constantly improving their tech whereas Humanity is stagnating. Give the Tau a few more centuries and they'll probably be a force to be reckoned with even for the biggest players on the block.
----
"Yo!" *Marduk walks into the Golden Throne room, giving zero fucks*
"Foul BEAST, what are you doing here in this solemn place!?" *Emprah throwin a bitch fit, lightning arcing off of his desiccated ass.*
"Just coming to check out my competition, nice place you have here by the way. *TapsGolden Throne.* "Oh, and don't try any that psyker bullshit on me. *Taps noggin* "Immune to that at the moment.*
"How?" *Emp's eyes widen as his mental feelers feel the inherent empty wrongness of a blank but Marduk is still using A-class Psyker level powers* "What warp sorcery would allow such a thing?"
It was too perfect. "Fuck you, that's how."
"... Why? If you are merely here to gloat, what drives you to attack my people, our people? Don't assume I can't feel the blood of humanity in you."
"... Huh, didn't expect that." *Removes mask, showing human face. "You got me, I'm just a man in a mask, bored out of his mind and a chip on his shoulder from the last Golden Asshole I had to kill." *Places the mask back on* "And oh yeah, I've already killed a Golden Asshole who was... hrm, probably your equal or greater in power. Granted, that was by Xanatos Gambit'ing the hell out of things, required a few unethical modifications, leaving a teenager to the tender mercies of Bonesaw and Panacea while at the same time breaking a few physical laws of the universe. *Beat* but hey, can't do everything right, no one's perfect. Sorry Alec you poor poor, lucky bastard."
"I...don't understand? You're doing all of this...out of boredom? to slake some cruel amusement?" *Anger, vibrant and electric as the energy in the air took on a violent turn.* "What cruelty, what savagery do you kneel to, to wish for such things to pass?"
"I'm a gamer? That's sorta par for the course, something about video game cruelty potential iunno *Shrugs shoulders* "You should thank me really. I'm not just kicking the fresh ass that your tin boys are bringing to the party, Everyone in the galaxy is getting a taste of my size twelves. Except the Eldar, they're being rather... huh, they kind of like me actually, said something about the prophecy last time I stomped a mud hole in one of their asses, been pretty good trade partners since." *shrugs again* "But long story short, I'm not really pressuring Humanity much, sure I'm kicking the asses of all the corrupt, chaos worshiping, locust swarm bringing, undead fuck heads that I can find, but most of the others? Eh, I've convinced me Boyz to leave the krumping to things that are actually fun to krump."
"..." *The Emperor looked nonplussed at that, as if he had sucked on a psychic lemon and found the taste heretically displeasing.* "You're... I have no words. None."
"Well that's good!" *Marduk beams behind his mask, somehow showing cheerfulness through the pleasant sheen of his mask. "Cuz I got a bit of a present for you." *His hands light up in an eldritch light*
*The Emperors eyes widen as he too calls upon his powers, far too late however as Marduk's power washes over him.*
*Marduk disappears as the Emperors warp energies pass through the space he once stood. An ethereal voice echoed in the silence. "Hugs and kisses thunder nuts, enjoy yourself for a bit and don't fuck up this time."
*The Emprah blinked, staring down at his rejuvenated form, in full power armor."
Well... the top half anyway.
*The Golden Idiot MKII blinked again, staring down at his... ahem, power sword and wondered at his real flesh and blood for the first time in, by the warp, ten thousand years.*
"Oh, your holinesss~~!"
*A number of hands, feminine hands Emp noted, grabbed his arms and legs. The women that were attached to them were of such obscene beauty that even he had to lean back in the face of what would normally be called a perfect ten. Perfect tens, elevens even. Twelves on a foretold day with the celestial planets aligning. They were hot was the chainsword he was driving at.*
*But he felt not a single Slanneshi taint to them. They were pure, virginal. Perfect even. Perfect... As the throng of feminine wiles tackled him to the ground with a strength he'd strongly doubt even his Son's had, he couldn't help but ponder the strange young man who had visited him. Non homosexual of course, even he was only of a certain proclivity, no matter what Horus may have said on the matter. The little twit. That's when the situation became more apparent to him and the pile of females started doing things that they really shouldn't be doing in a place that had sacrificed billions of lives to keep him alive. With a flick of his mental might the Emprah deposited himself and the bevy of beautiful haremites into his personal quarters upon his flagship, kept pristine even after all these years.*
*Waste not, want not after all and he had ten millennia worth of frustrations to work out*
---
Tau railguns are actually some of the strongest ballistic weapons on the 'current' battlefield. Nothing on DAoT tech, but similar to around Great Crusade levels of tech. Tau use these weapons across their entire empire while Great Crusade tech is sparse and only in the hands of higher ranked individuals. Tau are also constantly improving their tech whereas Humanity is stagnating. Give the Tau a few more centuries and they'll probably be a force to be reckoned with even for the biggest players on the block.
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- Location
- Poland
This is actually very close to an omake I was already planning. Very close, so kudos to you. It's a very well written omake. It has got to be a personal record for getting an omake also, for me anyways.