Oh boy will Tide make the covenant faction in 40k here
The Galaxy is Flood, Not Food
- Thread starter Jackson Fox
- Start date
- Crossover Sci-Fi Horror
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
The Necrons don't use nanites to attack Ork spores, they use Gauss weaponry to just disassemble the spores on an atomic level.
The final stage of Necrons 'purging' a world is them literally just walking across every single square inch of the planet and zapping it with their Gauss Flayers until zero life signs remain.
(And Ork spores are sufficiently hardy that even then a few sometimes sneak through the cordon, which is why a number of Necron Tomb Worlds have flourishing biospheres 100 million years later despite having been purged before the big nap.)
Ork spores aren't actually that difficult to get rid of; enough fire will do the trick. The difficult part is getting all the Ork spores, because it literally only takes a single spore escaping the purge by getting stuck in someone's shoe or in a crack in the rocks or whatever and a couple millennia later there will be greenskins Waaaghing all over the place.
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We haven't seen Orks continue to live after being infected by Tide. On Malum, plenty of Orks died after being infected.
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
Tide can definitely infect living Orks, kill them and then take over their now-dead biomass.
He can probably also infect living Orks and try to take them over. But Tide mentioned in one of the recent chapters that he has refrained from doing so because he doesn't want to connect to the WAAAGH!; due to being concerned that touching the WAAAGH! would be a bad idea that is very liable to get him punched in the metaphysical face by a pair of brutally cunning and cunningly brutal gods.
Tide is probably entirely correct to be concerned about this.
He can probably also infect living Orks and try to take them over. But Tide mentioned in one of the recent chapters that he has refrained from doing so because he doesn't want to connect to the WAAAGH!; due to being concerned that touching the WAAAGH! would be a bad idea that is very liable to get him punched in the metaphysical face by a pair of brutally cunning and cunningly brutal gods.
Tide is probably entirely correct to be concerned about this.
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- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him/They
Well the Sisters of Battle seem like a very good fit for the Prophets.
A Dumber Tide: GIVE ME YOUR JUICY SECRETS OLD ONES!!!
Gork and/or Mork: Who's diz git? Imma punch 'em in da snoz!
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
It actually is available; we see the intermediary stage between Orkz and Krork in the War of the Beast with Primorks, and Gazghkull is also implied to be well on his way to becoming a Primork at this point as well.
What the Orkz need to become Krork is very simple; WAAAGH!, or war. The Krork were designed and built during the height of the War in Heaven, and that is the environment they were designed to thrive in: An entire galaxy at war.
The more fighty the galaxy gets as a whole, the more the Orkz will develop towards becoming Krork again. All it will take for the Krork to return once more is another conflict on a similar scale as the War in Heaven.
Now where could we find a galactic-scale conflict of sufficient intensity in the 42nd millennium, hmmmmmmm...
tl;dr - the Krork degenerated into Orkz because Krork literally need to fight on a biological level and the post War in Heaven galaxy just isn't violent enough for Krork to reach their full growth. The Orkz are the Krork equivalent of toddlers, which is why they seem so incoherent and childish; they are children.
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- Location
- colombia
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNL5mjpc3Po
>the emperor to tide
>tide to grork and mork
the tunnel is a simply one way tunnel that crosses the barren land back and forth,so it goes from deimos to any of the southern hives
personally they lack the manpower to actually attack a hive head on,so is almost sure they will end up on malum for a recruitment drive,tide can easily sneak a shiton of puppets and altered there,and with a few thousand of sisters exposed to whats esentially a spore batch,every single bit of their gear and supplies will be spore filled,at least one of them will get infected and afterwards is game over
the only hive that is on imperial hives is malum
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- Location
- colombia
checking up the timelines,it took tide around 12-13 days to reach 30 billion infected
its been 7 days since the cultists took that pdf soldier with them
in 7 days tide had infected hundreds of thousands in malum with 36 million on process of being infected
by next chapter tide will have several million infected on all chaos controlled hives with the some hundreds of millions to low billions on the way
its been 7 days since the cultists took that pdf soldier with them
in 7 days tide had infected hundreds of thousands in malum with 36 million on process of being infected
by next chapter tide will have several million infected on all chaos controlled hives with the some hundreds of millions to low billions on the way
Omake by Argentave
My omake from spacebattles:
Unnamed ultramarine POV
Myself and my brothers marched through the abandoned battle barge intent on exterminating any hostiles. This ship had been marked lost for nearly four decades, only to reappear without any communications nor warp signature. A disturbing revelation. My brother captain walked ahead of us, bearing terminator armour proudly.
We stopped.
All around me bolters clicked upwards, seeking targets in the mist.
A figure stumbled forward, perpendicular to us. I could vaguely make out the faded colours of an ultramarine, but that would be impossible. It jurked, sluggishly, with neither warning nor noise. I could only make out the left side of his body, turned away as he was.
His once blue eyes were cold and lifeless. His platinum-blonde hair faded, and worn. Electrical sparks flared around his torso, crackling and popping occasionally.
Our Captain took a step forward, his assault cannon lowered but still readied for combat.
"Brother.... can you hear me?" he called out. For but a moment, there was no sign that we would receive a response.
Suddenly, inhumanly, the face of our brother turned towards us. I could hear the confusion and anger across the vox channels. Its right arm was no longer present, a tentacle with multiple tendrels snaking down his armour. The right side of his face was but bone, twisted with moss, fungi and other bright lifeforms.
His mouth was twisted in a rictus of pain. Requests to engage blared across all channels. Many seemed ready to fire, until a voice broke out through the mist.
A single tear trailed down the still normal face of our brother.
"B-brot-brothers.............. K-ki-Kill....meeeeeee" It rasped.
The rage felt by my brothers was palpable. Whoever, whatever had done this would die.
It appeared that these were the final words of our brother. Not 10 seconds later, what little light was left in his eyes flickered out; the abomination lumbering forward and unleashing an unholy howl.
Instantly, dozens of bolt rounds for there mark. Its head exploded, its legs collapsing underneath it.
A terminator spoke. "Captain, target eliminated."
"No. Look." Spoke an Interrogator Chaplain.
An armed moved. The former marine, already surviving wounds none could match, pushed itself up from the ground. its head stitching itself back together, its legs a weave of ceramite and corruption.
Its twisted voice could be heard once more.
"Lycaaaaooon's sooooonnnsssssss........ Floooooded onnnnnessssss............. Tideeee...... BEARERS................ Allllll willl fallll bennneath the marinnnnes amalgammmm...."
It charged towards our captain. Bolter shots round out from all directions, pounding into every part of the beast's body. But nothing. Rounds ping of as if they were fired by stubbers; alien flesh absorbing any that made contact. I could hear the ra-ta-ta-ta of an assault canon cycling.
But still nothing. Twenty feet away, ten, five.
Nothing. Its tendrils lashed out, crushing the captains assault canon. He responded swiftly; an overhead strike, bringing his thunder hammer down on his target.
But the impossible happened.
It caught the hammer.
With it's bare hand.
It smirked. "IIII hadddd stringgsss but now I'mmmmmm freeeee........."
It tightened its grip, and the head of the hammer shattered.
"Not possible" I heard the captain mutter.
Swiftly, he delivered a punch to the abomination before it could continue. The creature flew 7 meters away before sliding to a stop. bolt rounds rained down upon it, still to no effect.
Nothing happened until one of my brothers unleashed a cleansing stream of molten death from his heavy flamer. Fire spead across its body, until all that was left was molten slag and flames, twinkling like a petty toy.
Nothing could be seen through the flames.
Until an arm shot out, dragging itself forward.
"AHgghhghg...... ITGH BURNSHHHS! IT burnss!!!!" It roared.
All that was left from the onslaught was a legless, deformed torso.
But still it dragged itself forward.
The roar of bolters had stilled.
The Captain walked forward.
"Rest, brother." He murmered.
his armoured boot came down upon our once-brother's head.
It finally stilled.
The Chaplain marched forward, circling the corpse.
"This is like no corruption I have ever seen. It does not find its origins in Kaos nor the Tyranids. It is unique. As cowardly as it may sound, I dread the day when the chapter must fight an enemy capable of taking our brothers from us."
I could hear a rumbling. More lumbered out of the mist.
(A/N as this is a prototype tide-marine, Tide hasn't been able to completely destroy the astarte inside. Later on it would be easier.)
Unnamed ultramarine POV
Myself and my brothers marched through the abandoned battle barge intent on exterminating any hostiles. This ship had been marked lost for nearly four decades, only to reappear without any communications nor warp signature. A disturbing revelation. My brother captain walked ahead of us, bearing terminator armour proudly.
We stopped.
All around me bolters clicked upwards, seeking targets in the mist.
A figure stumbled forward, perpendicular to us. I could vaguely make out the faded colours of an ultramarine, but that would be impossible. It jurked, sluggishly, with neither warning nor noise. I could only make out the left side of his body, turned away as he was.
His once blue eyes were cold and lifeless. His platinum-blonde hair faded, and worn. Electrical sparks flared around his torso, crackling and popping occasionally.
Our Captain took a step forward, his assault cannon lowered but still readied for combat.
"Brother.... can you hear me?" he called out. For but a moment, there was no sign that we would receive a response.
Suddenly, inhumanly, the face of our brother turned towards us. I could hear the confusion and anger across the vox channels. Its right arm was no longer present, a tentacle with multiple tendrels snaking down his armour. The right side of his face was but bone, twisted with moss, fungi and other bright lifeforms.
His mouth was twisted in a rictus of pain. Requests to engage blared across all channels. Many seemed ready to fire, until a voice broke out through the mist.
A single tear trailed down the still normal face of our brother.
"B-brot-brothers.............. K-ki-Kill....meeeeeee" It rasped.
The rage felt by my brothers was palpable. Whoever, whatever had done this would die.
It appeared that these were the final words of our brother. Not 10 seconds later, what little light was left in his eyes flickered out; the abomination lumbering forward and unleashing an unholy howl.
Instantly, dozens of bolt rounds for there mark. Its head exploded, its legs collapsing underneath it.
A terminator spoke. "Captain, target eliminated."
"No. Look." Spoke an Interrogator Chaplain.
An armed moved. The former marine, already surviving wounds none could match, pushed itself up from the ground. its head stitching itself back together, its legs a weave of ceramite and corruption.
Its twisted voice could be heard once more.
"Lycaaaaooon's sooooonnnsssssss........ Floooooded onnnnnessssss............. Tideeee...... BEARERS................ Allllll willl fallll bennneath the marinnnnes amalgammmm...."
It charged towards our captain. Bolter shots round out from all directions, pounding into every part of the beast's body. But nothing. Rounds ping of as if they were fired by stubbers; alien flesh absorbing any that made contact. I could hear the ra-ta-ta-ta of an assault canon cycling.
But still nothing. Twenty feet away, ten, five.
Nothing. Its tendrils lashed out, crushing the captains assault canon. He responded swiftly; an overhead strike, bringing his thunder hammer down on his target.
But the impossible happened.
It caught the hammer.
With it's bare hand.
It smirked. "IIII hadddd stringgsss but now I'mmmmmm freeeee........."
It tightened its grip, and the head of the hammer shattered.
"Not possible" I heard the captain mutter.
Swiftly, he delivered a punch to the abomination before it could continue. The creature flew 7 meters away before sliding to a stop. bolt rounds rained down upon it, still to no effect.
Nothing happened until one of my brothers unleashed a cleansing stream of molten death from his heavy flamer. Fire spead across its body, until all that was left was molten slag and flames, twinkling like a petty toy.
Nothing could be seen through the flames.
Until an arm shot out, dragging itself forward.
"AHgghhghg...... ITGH BURNSHHHS! IT burnss!!!!" It roared.
All that was left from the onslaught was a legless, deformed torso.
But still it dragged itself forward.
The roar of bolters had stilled.
The Captain walked forward.
"Rest, brother." He murmered.
his armoured boot came down upon our once-brother's head.
It finally stilled.
The Chaplain marched forward, circling the corpse.
"This is like no corruption I have ever seen. It does not find its origins in Kaos nor the Tyranids. It is unique. As cowardly as it may sound, I dread the day when the chapter must fight an enemy capable of taking our brothers from us."
I could hear a rumbling. More lumbered out of the mist.
(A/N as this is a prototype tide-marine, Tide hasn't been able to completely destroy the astarte inside. Later on it would be easier.)
Nihilo
Authorial parasite
- Location
- Catalonia
To my awareness, disorders like depression and anxiety are from the biochemical balance of the brain being off. Meds adjust that balance. Something like the Flood can go "lmao" and just lower the sadness chemicals in the gravemind directly if their production orders are faulty.
Overall, I don't think Tide would be capable of actual depression. Grieving, yes, absolutely. If he lowers himself enough to get emotions pumping through, he'd have to deal with his emotional baggage. But being able to both remove himself from emotions to take a breather and re-evaluate and being able to manually adjusting the brain chemistry of any given host he's using as an emotion-computer if it gets "bugged" means he'd never get "stuck" in an emotional state and have permanent issues he has to palliate his entire life like a human might.
It is also a very interesting state of affairs, because he doesn't have a true need to deal with his baggage because it is a complete nonissue so long as he doesn't deliberately lower himself to feel emotions at full blast and then goes and pokes the uh oh. Any inquietude he may have over it would be purely intellectual, a niggle of "I haven't really addressed this" together with the fact that a psyker could drag up the baggage and force him to feel it, so having overcome it would keep him safer.
(And sure, someone can argue that a psyker can go "lmao" and just force him to feel all the pain as fresh as the first day, but the thing is that all warp nonsense runs on narrative. Overcoming his traumas means that fact is added to his narrative, making any attempts to reopen the wound far harder and his ability to push through it far higher.)
I wonder if Tide will help the imperium recover and maybe literally infect the entire galaxy so they stop this nonsense of destroying everything absolutely ruining chaos goal of bringing ruin to everyone
Your welcome
Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
But hot battle nuns though!
"Give that Sororita a cannon. Sororitas love cannons." - Tide probably
Mr. Cloak
Orchestrator of Paradoxical Apocalypse
- Pronouns
- I
Please let OP do this. Please!
We all need more Hellsing!Abridged quotes, especially because so many characters fit it so well!
The power went out at my place. I have cellular data so I can post this, but today's chapter will be a bit delayed.
That sucks, can't wait to see it though!
Nihilo
Authorial parasite
- Location
- Catalonia
If he has flak armor, regular stubber fire should be a really funny joke. You need at minimum heavy stubbers or several shots of autoguns to pierce through even the cloth parts of flak.
- Location
- colombia
Bullet proof means proofed against the bullet piercing
Not inmune to impact
Aka,bullets would still fit like a bat to the ribs
Enough bullets fired at your bullet proof vest and it would be lile getting beaten to death by the local baseball team
Nihilo
Authorial parasite
- Location
- Catalonia
He better follow the AdMech rites to the letter. Machine spirits are very, very real. From beaky power armor moving on its own after its wearer is dead to trigger a bunch of grenades and keep CSM from stealing geneseed to a bolter shooting an extra shell while completely empty to protect its owner from a surprise ork to a Titan out and out rescuing its princep's soul from a bunch of daemons after she died.
A button press began the end of Mohana Mankata Vi's life.
There was wind upon her skin.
She was youthful again, and free of the tank and the infirmites of age. Her steed Hamaj tensed between her legs, eager to surge forward into the landscape before them. The dark forest lay behind. Ahead, there was nothing but golden grases as far s teh eye could see, the kind of landscape a rider could lose themseleves in forever. Downy seeds brushed against skin warmed perfectly by the setting sun.
'Come, Hamaj!' she whispered.
The Horse needed no encouragement, but sprang into a gallop straightaway, arrowing through the grasslands towards forever.
A heaven, of sorts. But it could not last. A diabolical laugh cut the sky, making it bleed. Grass wilted where the sound travelled. The earth shook. The wound in the sky spread its bloody lips, opening up on a vista of madness, an ocean of energy where monsters waited to devour her.
'Stop!' she commanded.
But Hamaj did not heed her, and plunged onwards. The ground shook and began to break into fragments. Soil frittered away into multi-coloured vapour. Grass launched itself at the growing rift like arrows loosed. An invisible force pulled at her soul, dragging her towards the waiting maelstrom of sharp eyes and teeth. Hamaj whinnied in panic and fell into the yawning nothingness. The last parts of the prairie vision evaporated, leaving her alone.
Otherworldly predators circled, ready to tear her to shreds.
Mohana Mankata Vi screamed.
This was the reality of the warp. This was what the Imperial Truth hid. At the last moment, she felt utterly betrayed, and understood finally why the traitors had turned.
Wide-winged things with rasping mouths dived at her through looping whirls of impossible colours. She floated helplessly. Through will alone she shifted herself aside from a swooping beast. its razored fins caught her, and her soul's arm bled light.
The creatures turned, excited by the scent of corposant upon the empyrean's current, and dived.
She closed her eyes, wishing it all to be over.
A great song played. The loudest war-horn she had ever heard blasted across the non-space of the warp, and foundry heat beat at her back. She opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by a golden light, and the creatures fled before it.
Trembling, she turned.
A vast being filled eternity. She had the impression of a human form, though the entity was too large for a mortal eye to encompass. Its blood and bones were grinding cogs, its thoughts living streams of plasma, its eyes lenses the size of galaxies.
An iron door appeared in the maze of machinery in front of her. She looked up, searching for a face, and saw a shining entity looking back down that turned from flesh to light to mechanism and back.
Through the door radiated the familiar, plasmic warmth of Luxor Invictoria's reactor. She sensed its machine soul, more apparent to her now, not almost alive but turly living by the grace of her Machine-God.
A voice spoke within her, beautiful as the finest singer, grating as the mightiest machine. While there is service, there is life, it said. It is time.
Mohana Mankata Vi passed through the portal, where for one last, ultimate time, she joined with the spirit of the Titan.
There was wind upon her skin.
She was youthful again, and free of the tank and the infirmites of age. Her steed Hamaj tensed between her legs, eager to surge forward into the landscape before them. The dark forest lay behind. Ahead, there was nothing but golden grases as far s teh eye could see, the kind of landscape a rider could lose themseleves in forever. Downy seeds brushed against skin warmed perfectly by the setting sun.
'Come, Hamaj!' she whispered.
The Horse needed no encouragement, but sprang into a gallop straightaway, arrowing through the grasslands towards forever.
A heaven, of sorts. But it could not last. A diabolical laugh cut the sky, making it bleed. Grass wilted where the sound travelled. The earth shook. The wound in the sky spread its bloody lips, opening up on a vista of madness, an ocean of energy where monsters waited to devour her.
'Stop!' she commanded.
But Hamaj did not heed her, and plunged onwards. The ground shook and began to break into fragments. Soil frittered away into multi-coloured vapour. Grass launched itself at the growing rift like arrows loosed. An invisible force pulled at her soul, dragging her towards the waiting maelstrom of sharp eyes and teeth. Hamaj whinnied in panic and fell into the yawning nothingness. The last parts of the prairie vision evaporated, leaving her alone.
Otherworldly predators circled, ready to tear her to shreds.
Mohana Mankata Vi screamed.
This was the reality of the warp. This was what the Imperial Truth hid. At the last moment, she felt utterly betrayed, and understood finally why the traitors had turned.
Wide-winged things with rasping mouths dived at her through looping whirls of impossible colours. She floated helplessly. Through will alone she shifted herself aside from a swooping beast. its razored fins caught her, and her soul's arm bled light.
The creatures turned, excited by the scent of corposant upon the empyrean's current, and dived.
She closed her eyes, wishing it all to be over.
A great song played. The loudest war-horn she had ever heard blasted across the non-space of the warp, and foundry heat beat at her back. She opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by a golden light, and the creatures fled before it.
Trembling, she turned.
A vast being filled eternity. She had the impression of a human form, though the entity was too large for a mortal eye to encompass. Its blood and bones were grinding cogs, its thoughts living streams of plasma, its eyes lenses the size of galaxies.
An iron door appeared in the maze of machinery in front of her. She looked up, searching for a face, and saw a shining entity looking back down that turned from flesh to light to mechanism and back.
Through the door radiated the familiar, plasmic warmth of Luxor Invictoria's reactor. She sensed its machine soul, more apparent to her now, not almost alive but turly living by the grace of her Machine-God.
A voice spoke within her, beautiful as the finest singer, grating as the mightiest machine. While there is service, there is life, it said. It is time.
Mohana Mankata Vi passed through the portal, where for one last, ultimate time, she joined with the spirit of the Titan.
There's another anecdote, from the Damocles Gulf Imperial Armor book, of a bunch of Tau throwing out all the "silly" rituals in producing an imperial strikecraft. Result: Super wobbly, incredibly hard to control to the point of seeming actively malicious, fired at a third of the rate it should've.