MidHammer 40,000

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There is no true peace amongst the stars, yet it is not all carnage and slaughter. Thirsting gods laugh as they send their minions to work evil, but their laughter is drowned out by the defiant battle cry of the loyal - for the Emperor! His Will be done!

MidHammer 40,000 is a /tg/ rewrite of the Warhammer 40,000 universe, trying to strike a balance between the grimdark original and BrightHammer. It aims for a grimbright or 'grimlight' feeling; barring the Emperor and the Primarchs, plus maybe a lucky few exceptional people, a single individual is unlikely to alter the state of the galaxy meaningfully, being but a single drop on the platter of history. Yet together, the people of the Imperium stand, each doing their part, pooling their single drops into an unstoppable tide that washes away the darkness. Many die, and they shall sadly not be remembered, but their deeds shall forever be honoured.

Thread links:

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/59185788/ Original thread.

Assorted Lore BitsEdit

Intro SpielEdit

It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries The Emperor has sat on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the Master of Mankind by the might of His will, and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is as near as death as any man has right to be and then some, his body writhing invisibly with power from the Silver Age of Technology as it ever so slowly recovers from the grievous blow dealt to him by his traitorous son. He is the Lord of the Imperium for whom a million times a million soldiers fight and die, knowing He will soon lead them once more.

Yet even in his horrendous state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. For all the multitudes of the alien, the mutant, and the heretic, they stand as the indomitable will and bulwark of Mankind - battered, beaten, tarnished and worn, but unbroken, unbowed, and proud.

To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the hardest and most resolute regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Remember the power of technology and science, for though so much has been forgotten, yet more shall be learned and re-learned. Hold close to your heart the promise of progress and understanding, for in the twinkling dawn of the future there is still hope. There is no true peace amongst the stars, yet it is not all carnage and slaughter. Thirsting gods laugh as they send their minions to work evil, but their laughter is drowned out by the defiant battle cry of the loyal - for the Emperor! His Will be done!

Chapters, Legions, and the Codex AstartesEdit

The Codex Astartes still exists in this universe, but, mostly because the Lorgar Letdown wasn't as devastating as the Horus Heresy and there were more primarchs that could oppose Guilliman, it's not universally adopted as in the original 40k.

Basically, after the Lorgar Letdown, a fight breaks out between Horus and Guilliman on how to handle the remaining legions, Guilliman of course stands for his chapters style, Horus instead wants to keep the legions as they were during the Great Crusade. This conflict between the two primarchs doesn't spark another civil war because Big E, though very weakened by his recent injuries, intervenes to save the day and find a compromise.

Currently in the Imperium Codex Astartes and Legio Astartes coexist with the first ones more suited for planetary scale operations and the second ones for sector-wide offense and defense. Loyalist marines are "split" into these two different ideologies depending on which idea their primarchs supported.

Big question: Legion of the Damned. Does it become the Legion of Martyrs? In this setting, perhaps anyone can get a second chance if you were sufficiently hardy in terms of soul and mind.


I would suggest a sort of 'Council of Regents', in which they spend a lot of time on Terra, making sure governance is actually competent. They might be Primarchs, but there are only eight of them, and the Imperium is the size of a galaxy. Sure, on occasion they'll venture out to kick ass or inspect the Imperium, but there are so many threats and only so many Primarchs - even they can't be in multiple places at once. Alternatively, they could be ruling over Segmentums, taking up about as much time - sure, it's a smaller area of space, but now there's only one Primarch.

Ferrus Manus and Fulgrim are BROS FOR LIFE and go on BRO TRIPS OF PURGING TRAITORS AND HIGH ADVENTURE together.

Fulgrim is A GOOD BOY. Horus is THE BEST BOY.

Sanguinus is fabulous hawk boy. Probably gets hit on by everyone who's brave enough.

Black CrusadesEdit

I'd say that with Lorgar as Heresiarch and probable Arch-Priest, Black Crusades could be a hella lot more organised to compensate for the increased power of the Imperium?

Yeah. The reason why Black Crusades are kinda disorganized in 40k is cause all the daemon Primarchs fucked off somewhere else and abandoned their Legions, till Abby forcefully knocked some sense into everybody. Lorgar would be a nice catalyst to focus the wrath of the Chaos Legions on a single objective instead of mindlessly tearing each other apart. With the participation of at least one or two other daemon primarchs.

Would the Drop Site Massacre still happen? Would it be that extreme?

Being outnumbered, pulling off something like Isstvan would simultaneously be far more difficult and a practical requirement to even have a chance. Fulgrim obviously doesn't kill Ferrus Manus here, though. Anyone got any ideas for the Drop Site Massacre?

Maybe they got a shit load of Deamons to help them a bit more. I mean with Lorgar being so devoted to the gods it would be a decent reward for purging the traitor legions of loyalists. Maybe they sacrificed a few planets on the way.

That sounds good! Enough to score a devastating tactical victory, but not enough to put him on par with Horus' tantrum!

The "shitload of Daemons" idea for Isstvan makes sense; having never faced this kind of threat en masse before,Imperials get fucked up.

Blood AngelsEdit

First, I believe Dante wouldn't suffer half as much, since the "golden warrior" Sanguinius talked about is probably himself, if the prophecy even exists in this version of the story. Another thing is the black rage wouldn't exist, since the psychic imprint of Sanguinius wouldn't have gotten beaten half to death. Red thirst would still be a thing, but it wouldn't lead to assholes like the flesh tearers. Also, no Sanguinalia, so the average imperial worker gets worked to death even on space christmas. Baal would probably not have been fucked up so badly either so there's that.

Space WolvesEdit

Maybe they are sent to Prospero to arrest Magnus as per Horus Heresy, but the Legion falls to Khorne due to their hatred for psykers and the sheer prominence of psychic energy, with Russ looking on in desperation as his Legion goes berserk and burns everything his Brother built?

The average Space Wolf is somewhere around eight to nine feet tall. The Canis Helix has mutated so extensively that they now resemble upright wolves more than men, with various Chaos-derived scars, body damage, and injured skin, nearly completely coated over by a deep, often heavily manged and matted coat of fur genetically similar to human hair.

Their power armor is fused into their bodies in a varying fashion, having basically grown in (see pic related for a general idea). It is also a living part of them; the canine jaws and lengthy claws of the Space Wolf are lined with ceramite, contributing to their ability to effectively gore enemies to death. Inside, some of their organs- including Astartes implants- have duplicated further, enabling them to sustain lengthy fire from even bolters when combined with their ingrown armor.

The Space Wolf is close to non-sentient. It's lost the ability to speak or otherwise create intelligent vocalization, and is belligerent and hostile in nearly all occasions, but is just intelligent enough to dimly understand and resent how far it has fallen, as well as obey the orders of its dark masters. Their gait is usually quadrupedal, but they may rear up on their human legs much like a bear would.

While the Space Wolves are monstrously powerful, being effectively power armor-lined and Warp-enhanced, they are also rare. Only the original legionaries who fell are left; the Canis Helix, unless somehow integrated into another human, is the key to their specific brand of mutation and corruption, and as such a Lord trying to produce more Wolves will be met with no success. For this reason, the Wolves are highly prized; beaten into compliance, these war-beasts trade hands, only loyal to those they fear or their patron Gods. It is considered quite an accomplishment to have enough to send into battle, but they are well worth it, tearing and ripping through enemy lines while shrugging off ordnance that would bisect a Chaos Marine.


As for the trader, yes I was thinking Ulthwé... But with a twist. Every trades happen on the neutral ground of Commoragh, after the Dark Eldar had been eradicated/exiled. Such attacks against their kind but before anything make looks the Druchari bad in the eyes of their cousins made Biel'Tan fuckin angry. As such, Vect managed to introduce the way of Commorragh into Craftworld... Before, Dark Eldar were killing and raiding for fun and necessity. Now, they do for fun and vengeance, seeking to take back their homes and made the humanity crawls at their feet.

Alternatively, about the Dark Eldars: I feel like a way to make them less edgy would be taking away their need to torture people to survive, make the Dark Eldar just the biggest galactic raiders, smugglers and all-kinds-of-black-market-stuff sellers/buyers. They raid to steal shit and people just because they're really greedy and selfish fucks. Some sadist Dark Eldar still exist but they do that shit for fun.

I just pictured grimbright Comorragh as the biggest black market ever with scum from all over the galaxy.

Grimbright Comorragh is a metropolis-sized black market: Radical Inquisitors browsing xenotech to hunt traitors with initiating a market chase scene when they spot some heretek trying to buy archeotech.

What would these "new" dark eldar do to save their souls from Slaanesh? Soulstones also for them is too banal?

They may try to catalyse their thirst to vengeance and the pain they inflict to create a new eldar god like Ynnead ? Grimbright, because, yes, God of pain and vengeance... But also it deprive Slaneesh from a good chunk of his power, ensuring a more of equal fight between the two divinity later ?

So what's different?Edit

Whereas OriginalHammer is grimdark - shit's fucked and it's not going to get better - and BrightHammer is noblebright - shit's grand and it's only gonna get better - MidHammer takes a different approach. We aim for a grimbright or 'grimlight' feeling; sure, it looks like we're fairly boned now, but we all know that if we hold on a little longer, a brighter tomorrow shall be our fate.

Lore-Wise, the Lorgar Letdown wasn't as successful as the OriginalHammer Horus Heresy. Whereas some things went better than in OH, with the Space Wolves Legion (though not Russ, who is now a *ahem* lone wolf, crusading through the Imperium) falling to Chaos and the Alpha Legion driven to Tzeentch by their obsession with plots within plots, these victories are outweighed by the increased loyalist sentiments in the Primarchs and their Legions; Fulgrim, BROS FOR LIFE with Ferrus Manus, Horus, THE BEST BOY, and Magnus, RED MAGIC SPACE MAN, staying loyal, with Lorgar taking over as Heresiarch. This leads to the Lorgar Letdown being far less damaging than the Horus Heresy, with the most important distinction being that Big E, while still receiving a devastating wound that binds him to the Golden Throne, it is not so bad that he has been slowly dying for the past ten millennia. Instead, he has ever-so-slowly been recovering, communicating more and more frequently with his people and his surviving sons as he regains his strength. Though the threats from without and within are manifold, the people of the Imperium stand resolute, knowing that their Emperor shall soon lead them again.




Lion El'JohnsonEdit

What's his function? If we go with the suggestion that Alpharius fucked his Legion over and caused the split, he might devote himself to counter-intelligence ops, stopping revolts, rooting out turncloaks, etc.


A GOOD BOY. With the obvious candidate for Propaganda Minister leading the Heresy, I'd say Fulgrim could do that job? Keeping the masses loyal through flawless works of Imperial art, spreading the Imperial Truth (or maybe something halfway between the Imperial Truth and worship of Big E) to new worlds, etc.

Jagathai KhanEdit

Maybe the Emperor's Messenger? While Big E can of course psyker a messenger to everyone in the galaxy, if he's still capable of speech that might be a less painful alternative. Ferrying rapidly back and forth between Terra, as well as protecting messengers and shipping lanes and acting as rapid response troops, the White Scars are a welcome sight throughout the Imperium. Jaghatai is probably a decent guy, if a bit of a more less patient person.

Leman RussEdit

Russ is also known as the Lone Primarch. His legion abandoned him. They took refuge in bestial rage, the abandonment of high culture and values for the brutal existence of battle. Slowly they became less than their fellow Marines, then less than humans. Corrupted by the touch of the Gods, the Wolves fell, despite the farthest efforts of Russ to avert such a fate for his sons. Twisted and contorted, until all that was left of them was mutated, horrific creatures, the Canis Helix having overtaken them. Their power armor fused into their bodies, lining their snapping jaws and unholy, blood-slaked claws. Little left of their minds save the thirst for blood and battle. There is nothing left of the Space Wolves that once were, save Russ. His sons, long since lost to the Warp, are nothing more than a pack of baying hounds, little more than war-beasts to the Chaos lords they serve.

Russ has since abandoned his lost homeworld and legion. Casting off his old regalia and armor, he has taken up a simple, unpainted set of power armor. Though his true location is known only to the Emperor, it is said by Guardsmen on campaign that he travels through the Imperium, ranging from battlefield to battlefield to annihilate the enemies of man. Some wonder what goes through his mind. Does he still think of his sons, or has he attempted to bury his memories?


Rogal dorn has confined himself to a corner of the galaxy, building the greatest defence system the imperium has ever seen, but while this is all good to the imperium and it citizens, many suspect rogal don is confining himself to this fortress as punishment to himself for not saving the emperor or being able to protect him. But there are reports of a man the size of a bear appearing on the world of Cadia, and building great defensive positions than disappearing....


Known by his honorific, "The Emperor's Fury", Sanguinius travels the length and breadth of the Imperium, enacting His will. Despite his title, most of his duties are explicitly non-violent in nature; resolving diplomatic crises that could see entire sectors embroiled in civil war or heretical uprisings, planning the overall strategy of a Crusade, or spreading the word of the Emperor to worlds led astray. Few know why the Primarch of the Blood Angels, one of the finest warriors in the galaxy, avoids conflict so. Some theorize he has been horribly injured by Lorgar during his duel with the Arch-Traitor, no longer able to lift a blade, but those who have seen the Primarch's graceful movements know this to be false. Only the most trusted of Sanguinius' inner circle know the truth of the matter: the Primarch is constantly battling an affliction known as the Red Thirst, a berserker rage that leaves him in a frenzy if it is unleashed. Rare are the times when the Angel of Baal risks entering combat, and then only in the darkest of hours. He deploys alone, with long-ranged fire support, to avoid collateral damage, and once fighting, does not stop until the last foe has been butchered.

Ferrus ManusEdit

Ferrus manus is currently traveling throughout the stars, attempting to repair worlds that have been left in dissarray after great wars and battles.


Gulliman and the ultramarines have become the go to force for minor insurrections and problems around the imperium, due to their size they are the largest of the imperial forces, but due to guilliman having to work through literal mountains of paperwork guilliman had to write the codex ultra, a guide to how the legion should be run while he was unavailable, although he has made several thousand modifications to it since it was first made


Loyalist. Magnus has overseen the training and creation of many imperial psykers, making him a sort of father to most of them, as he was the closest thing they ever had to one. Due to this magnus has taken it upon himself to try and train all of them to the best of his ability, but due to the high death count and low survival rate of psykers living to become old, magnus has become semi cold and distant to his brothers, dedicating his time to trying to save as many of his “children” as he can. In these duties include him and his legion launching campaigns to teach the common imperial citizen about the psykers, and the running of the black ships(need a new name for it). Along with magnuses duty of keeping the golden throne running when the emperor needs to go and do something magnus has very little time to do much else.


The Best Boy. Probably still the Warmaster, conquering new worlds for the Imperium. Does he retain his shtick of making sure all worlds he conquers are fully integrated, or does he leave that to Guilliman (if Papa Smurf doesn’t fuck off to do his own thing) or Vulkan? I’d love to see him plan against the Tyranids at some point. Think about how he'd react to Creed. Think about it. In in-game terms, this would basically mean deploying five units wherever you wish however you want with scout. Scout you Titan, Horus, and a knight and a few tanks. Why not? Horus arranges the strategic bits, and then Creed hides his units.


With the Salamanders’ thing for helping out civilians, I could see Vulkan acting as a pacifier of worlds. Whereas Sanguinius mostly deals with the diplomatic side of things, keeping powerful individuals loyal, Vulkan would go out to the masses and rouse their support for the Imperium. Bro of everyone. Prepare to be friended. Of course, if you piss him off...

Corvus CoraxEdit

With the Emperor’s Executioner and Terror Weapon both falling to Chaos, Corax might take over both roles, becoming the dagger in the dark that removes those Sanguinius cannot placate and terrifying into submission those Vulkan cannot convince. Obviously doesn’t take it to Curze’s extreme, though. Probably causes a lot fewer body parts of loved ones to be found in mailboxes. Instead, eloquently worded death threats, ultimatums, and warnings signed in suspicious red liquid.



Slaaneshi. His natural perfectionism developed into obsession and Slaanesh worship. Essentially replaces Fulgrim and the Emperor's Children as the Slaaneshi Legion.


Cruze went truly insane by the end of the heresy, and declared himself the new “god of justice” and sent his legion on a crusade of terror across the galaxy, this caused the “years of fear” in the imperium, where world were cut off and entire planets went mad from fear, but the more space the legion took the more fractured they became, and eventually from a combined assault by horus, magnus, and petraubo on the world of contranis they were able to fight off the mad primarch, and his legion was shattered, never for the pieces to be put back together.


Khorne. Unchanged? Maybe we could do something fun with the Butcher’s Nails.


Nurgle. Any ideas? Don’t have much.


Chaos Undivided. Arch-Traitor. What does he do different form Horus as Heresiarch? Less Primarch, but zeal gives him more Daemons, allowing him to pull off the Drop Site Massacre, but this doesn't compensate for the legions that didn't flip, which is why the Lorgar Letdown lost far more decisively than the Horus Heresy.

Alpharius & OmegonEdit

Tzeentch. The mustache-twirling, cat-petting “I’ve been expecting you”-ing villains of 40k. Guide WAAAAAGHS! to poorly defended yet important worlds, triggering uprisings in previously thoroughly loyal sectors, generally creating copious amounts of JUST AS PLANNED. May or may not have triggered the Dark Angels’ schism. Masquerading as Loyalist. Did they have a hand in the creation of the Tau as an annoyance to the IoM?


Just like in regular 40k, xenos play a big role in the galaxy, but unlike regular 40k, the fact the Emperor is still around means Mankind's contempt and hatred for most things aliend doesn't devolve into utter xenophobia, which can smooth things out through diplomatic relations.


With the Emperor still around, and the threat of Chaos considerably smaller than in the OG 40k, the Eldar may go two ways: either they are as uptight as ever, and thus be hunted down in any of their form, or they become a some sort of shady ally for the Imperium. In the first case, the Emperor knows that Eldar souls are quite powerful and feed chaos when unproperly stored, so exterminating them all once and for all might stop them from feeding Slaanesh, and thus heavily hurting one of the main Chaos gods. Considering the Emperor is still alive and Magnus is still loyal, the Imperium probably has multiple access to the Eldar Webway, and enough firepower to threaten Commorragh itself. Then again, the Webway is still a project worth consider, so the Emperor may negociate with the Eldar in exchange of Webway knowledge, as well as to help fighting Chaos, tyranids and many other threats. As well, there is the problem of having a hotzone that the INQUISITION can just visit and keep an eye on.


Some things never really change, and orks are not an exception. In MidHammer, orks are still a constant threat, but the more organized state of the Imperium means they can be dealt with much more effectively. The War of the Beast was much less damaging, although it still was quite a dangerous event. Perhaps, though, the truly insane feats of survival that orks (or at least the ones with plot armour) seem capable of carrying out are toned down fairly heavily-orks are still tough, but not incinerate-my-upper-half-with-plasma-and-I'll-stomp-you-to-death tough.


The Great Devourer still lurks around the galaxy eating planets, but there are many things that can challenge their presence in the galaxy. For one, the Emperor is alive, and while he can't really direct his troops personally against the nids, he is still the most powerful psyker in the galaxy, and it stands to reason he can devise multiple strategies to mess with the tyranids' sense of direction. Not to mention Magnus is still loyal, and he could be one of the greatest assests Mankind has against the Hive Mind.


The Necrons are waking up after millions of years of rest, but instead of a galaxy fully embroiled in war, they find a damaged, but still strong Imperium, that could counter the slowly awakening Necrons before they become too dangerous. The Emperor may try to do something about the C'Tan shards, considering he has the Void Dragon prisioner in Mars. Considering newer fluff, possibly tentative negotiations?


The T’au are mostly unchanged at their core, but the state of the Imperium means that the uncompromising “Join or Die” attitude of the Ethereals must alter to accommodate not getting blammed immediately. They are a lesser threat to the Imperium’s eastern side than in OH, and barely constitute a thorn in humanity’s side. However, they are still a threat none the less, and more worlds have been lost to them than in OH, but this is not as bad as the Imperium has a much easier time compensating for this. They remain as totalitarian and hierarchical, and still trade with the Imperium.


Vox-Recording Found on Terra, M41Edit

John Alvok, final recording on Terra. "To Meredith, my lovely wife, so vast a distance away. I saw him today. After so many years of waiting. The Master of Mankind, our most glorious Emperor of Man. Though he once willed it not, I believe in his godhood.

Today, I have been vindicated.

Such a man. Tall, towering over the procession. His face carved from perfection, set in a strong yet calm visage, his eyes scanning over us pilgrims. Do you know the most amazing thing, Meredith? He spoke. Our immortal Emperor spoke to us. I am truly at peace now. Fifteen years awaiting and every instant was worth it, for the thirty seconds I could lay eyes upon him.

His words? "Be at peace."

The Dawn of Hades HiveEdit

Sergeant Iastus - no, Lieutenant Iastus, he corrected himself - of the Hades Hive XVIth Militia Platoon surveyed the men and women under his command. Civvies, mostly, though a couple Arbites were mixed in - he’d put those to work as sergeants. A lot of his troopers looked hungry. Most looked tired. All were clearly afraid. Iastus shared that sentiment; he’d fought the Orks before, and it wasn’t something he enjoyed. He winced and reflexively ran his finger over the scar on his leg left there by one of the brutes.

Still, the Hive needed its defenders; the XVIth would have to do. He clutched the Imperial Aquila hanging around his neck, thinking of his home, his wife, and his son.

“Men,” he said, his voice shaky, “on this day, the world of Armageddon stands in the dark of night. Ghazghkull Thraka has returned to plague this noble world once again, and his armies are banging on the gates as we speak.” Several of his troopers went a couple shades paler as he spoke. “Today, the Emperor calls upon you to fight, and perhaps die, for the Imperium.” His voice grew quieter; he’d never been the best at inspiring speeches, and it was showing. He frantically cast around for anything to say that might inspire the civilians under his command to hold the line when the time came. His eye fell on a little girl, holding her mother’s hand, standing next to the parade square at which the XVIth had assembled.

“You there, little one,” he said softly, his vox-amplifier ensuring everyone could hear him.

“Please, join me.”

Looking at her mother, then back at him, the little girl trotted up to the stage, nervously. He noticed she kept glancing into the masses of troops on the field.

“What is your name, little one?” Iastus rested a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. The girl looked down at her shoes as she muttered her response.

“R-Rasa, sir. Rasa Halen.” At once, her furtive looks at the troops made sense.

“Trooper Halen! Step forward.” Iastus barked an order in his stern Sergeant voice. Speeches weren’t his forte, but orders... orders he could do.

A wiry man dressed in the uniform of the Arbites nervously stepped forward. “I-I’m sorry, sir, I told her to stay home today but-”

“Trooper Halen! This is your daughter, correct?” The man stood shaking in his boots, unsure as to where this was going

“Y-yes, sir.”

Iastus put on a friendly smile. He had no idea where he was going with this, but for once, his tongue seemed to have found him. He clutched his Aquila a little tighter and patted Rasa’s head.

“She’s got guts to come here today. Got that from her dad, for sure.” He turned his gaze towards the assembled Hive Militia platoon.

“Men! Before you, you see the daughter of one of your own. You might have come to know Trooper Halen during our training together, or perhaps in the cafetarium. Perhaps you knew him from before this mess, perhaps this is the first time you’ve heard his name. It matters not. He comes from our Hive, from our planet - he’s one of ours!” His voice grew steady, taking on volume as Iastus’ confidence grew.

“Trooper Halen! Would you let any green-skinned barbarian near little Rasa?”

The soldier, who had relaxed a little now the Lieutenant’s attention was no longer on him, snapped back into attention. “Never, sir! They’d have to go through me!”

“Excellent. I would expect nothing less. Those Orks out there, though, seem eager to spill the blood of your daughter and your wife. Are you going to let that happen?” Trooper Halen’s earlier fear seemed to ebb away as righteous anger asserted itself. “Frak that, boss! I’ll fight ‘em all with my bare hands if I need to - they ain’t gettin’ Rasa and Eleanne!” Some troopers cheered at this, though it quickly died down.

“Men, before you you see Trooper Halen - not one of the Emperor’s Avenging Angels, not one of his fine Guardsmen, nor a PDF soldier. Trooper Halen is just a citizen of the Imperium, one amongst trillions. Yet, he is so much more than that. Through him, and all others like him, the Imperium is made manifest! Through him, and those like him, the tides of treason and bloodshed have been turned back time and time again! Together with him, we shall turn it back once more! These savages come to butcher our friends, our sons, our daughters - will we let them?”

“NO!” A resounding echo resonated through the square. The cheers returned, stronger this time.

“Men - nay, soldiers, HEROES of the Imperium! Today, we stand against carnage! We stand against the darkness, bearing the light that our Emperor has spread through the galaxy since He has led Humanity to claim its destiny! ‘Tis true, night has fallen on Armageddon, but every night must give way to dawn - today, WE end the night! TODAY, MEN, WE ARE THE DAWN, AND THESE FOUL SAVAGES SHALL KNOW IT!”

Like a volcanic eruption to rival the fiercest volcano on Nocturne, defiant cheers erupted from the men and women of the XVIth. Shouts of “We are the dawn!” “They ain’t getting my son!” and

“His Will Be Done!” filled the air. Little Rana, confused and scared by all the shouting, began to cry and hugged her dad, still standing out of rank. Iastus patted her on the back.

“It will be alright, little one. Dawn has broken today.”

The Emperor's FuryEdit

“The Emperor’s Fury? Aye, I’ve seen him fight. Why are you staring at me like that? Close your mouth, boy, or your jaw’s gonna fall off. ‘Awesome’? Son, it was terrifying.

Sure, he might not seem that scary - imposing, certainly, he’s one of the Emperor’s children, after all - but scary? Nah, surely not, he’s the Emperor’s foremost diplomat. He hardly ever deals with combat on a personal level, rarely even duels. Surely he can’t be that scary? Listen up, boy, you’ve probably heard the rumours that that thrice-damned arch-traitor knocked something wrong in the Angel of Baal, hence his avoidance of combat. Lemme tell ya, that’s a bigger load of groxshit than you’d find in an agri-world fertilizer ship.

It was on Coronus V, Garguan sector, some ten, twenty years ago. I was still just PDF back then, stationed in the capital hive. We’d been dealing with an upsurge in mutant births, rogue psyker activities, cult activity, the whole package.The Planetary Governor, that traitorous fuck, was acting a bit miffy too. Seemed intent on seccession, and the Imperium would have none of that. So, over came Sanguinius, t’see if he could straighten things out.

Now, if I’d tell ya things went to the Warp in a handbasket, I’d be underestimating to the point of groxshitting you. I was stationed near the Governatorial Palace at the time, and saw the Emperor’s Fury himself enter to meet with the Governor. I could see why they call him the Angel; I’m still not convinced he ain’t got an actual halo around his face. Face like an angel, too.

Anyhow, so the moment he enters, a series of explosions rock the palace and the Hive as a whole. Within a minute, our positions are stormed by hordes of mutants and freakish zealots, barreling down at us with hardly more than cobbled-together junk as armor and rusty knives for weapons. They weren’t the problem. The problem was that pretty much every trooper in there with me, save for my own squad, the glorious bastards, made to shoot at us, screaming about offering our skulls to the Blood God.

Now, we were damn lucky that the Angel of Baal had bought a honour guard, or I wouldn’t be sitting here. Jervis was down, Petula had a slug in his shoulder and I was running out of ammo, and these freaks have almost bashed down the gates. So we’re sitting there, thankfully having cleared the traitors out of our position, but with a horde of mutants banging at the door, praying to the Emperor for salvation - what? Yeah, yeah, I know, He didn’t want to be prayed to, but trust me, you’d do the same if you saw some harlot with a face that look like it had melted promising to do unmentionable things to your spleen. Now stop interrupting me.

Okay, so, the door gives way, Yerrin goes down to some freak with four-and-a-half arms - yeah, I don’t know how that worked either - and we’re sure we’ve faced the end. Thankfully, it seemed the Emperor listened to my prayers, and the moment I’m jumped by one of those freaks, its chest explodes in a shower of gore. It wasn’t pleasant, but I’m sure it was preferable to the alternative. In storm the red-armoured sons of Sanguinius, wreaking absolute fucking havoc on the enemy. Within ten seconds, every last mutant in that room had died.

The Space Marines order us to follow them - not sure in what way we could help Astartes except draw fire away from them, but I’m not going to question a command by one of the Blood Angels. So, we grab our gear and follow them, fighting through a literal sea of mutants to get back to the palace - well, in fairness, they did most of the fighting, we just tagged along in the corridor of corpses they created.

Anyhow, we’re almost at the front door of the Governor’s place, and we see a dark, giant form crashing through one of the stained glass windows at the fifteenth floor. Turns out the Governor tried to summon Daemons to help fight the Son of the Emperor, but fucked up somewhere along the line and got possessed by one of them instead. I think they called it a Bloodthirster or something. I can’t quite recall after all those bottles of amasec I had after that event. Anyhow, after the Daemon, the Angel of Baal jumps out and starts punching the shit out of that abomination in mid-air. They crashed into the ground together, right in front of us. That Daemon never stood a fucking chance.

After punching it until its face stopped resembling a face, the Bloodthirster vanished in a puff of sulphur, and Sanguinius looks up. I still think I’m damned for him looking me directly into my eyes. There was something angelic about him still, but not the type of angel that exemplifies kindness anymore. This was the kind of angel that storms out of the heavens with a giant flaming sword to fuck you up in all sorts of ways. His eyes… oh Emperor, his eyes. Hand me that bottle of amasec, will you? Yes, I know it’s my fifth. I’m your superior, son, so just shut the fuck up and give me the alcohol.

Ah, that’s better. Where was I? Oh, right. So the Emperor’s Fury looks up at us, snarling for some reason. I looked at his Marines for guidance, and what I saw almost scared me more than Sanguinius himself. In all my years of service, I’ve seen Astartes on more occasions than many in the Guard, but this is the only time I’ve seen one afraid.

Never thought I’d say it, but I thanked the Emperor when a right proper army of heretics showed up and began to shoot at the Angel of Baal. He turned around to face them and charged. What he did… wasn’t pretty. The streets were crammed with heretics, but he just butchered them all in seconds. He waded into the city, out of sight. He pretty much single-handedly executed every traitor in the Hive that day.

I’ve seen The Emperor’s Fury fight, and let me tell you, son, he’s got that name for a reason”.

Excerpt from The Codex AstartesEdit

Preface to Index Aurelian This Passage was part of Roboute's Collected writings called "Reflections on the Great Crusade." In which Roboute provides commentaries on the actions of himself and his brothers during The Emperor's Great Crusade as a preface to his own death and Lorgar's treachery. Gulliman remains hopeful in the Emperor's project, but he does warn that The Primarchs need to stop thinking of themselves as conquerors, and instead as rulers. Jaghatai Khan eventually inserted this into the preface of "Index Aurelian" of The Codex Astartes

We should not be so arrogant to assume that all sins fall on Lorgar and his ilk. As if it is us not them who have nothing to atone for. All of us have committed great crimes in the name of a Higher Truth. Perhaps I can say that my legions never stooped to the brutality of Angron and his world eaters, yet the home of Nuceria was part of my kingdom. The men who tortured and mutilated the soul of my brother continued their evil with their deeds unpunished. Even if I am not a monster by my deeds I have been their husbandman through my omissions. All of us have committed our crimes and when we do, we place hope in our immortality, thinking that the memories of our nefarious deeds will die with our ephemeral brethren. They do not. Instead the stories echo and amplify in whispers and hearths and children's bedsides. Eventually all of the galaxy will know of us not as the heroes we paint and sculpt ourselves to be, but mythical monsters who steal their children and bring fire from the sky. And as they grow fearful, we grow cold. And as aloofness becomes callousness, callousness becomes contempt. And after contempt? What then? Then perhaps it would be better if Lorgar and the traitors did succeed, for at least such maniacal evil has the virtue of honesty, and that's one more virtue than possessed by the hypocrite. No, if the citizens of this Imperium are to serve us, then we must serve them as well. Our Astartes should grow and bond not merely with us and their ships, but the planets they serve, attend to their needs, take on their way, right their wrongs and nurture their growth. If we take the best of their sons for our own ranks, should we not return something as well?

Hymmn 54 from Psalter of The MatronEdit

The Psalter of The Matron
The Psalter of the Matron, is a collection of hymns and songs recorded by the Pilgrim fleets of Maccragge. According to tradition, these songs were composed by Tanasha Euten and her closest companions during the "Pilgrimage of Terra" where the Refugee fleets of Maccragge were harrassed by the demonic forces of the warp. These songs are the oldest of the Religious texts of the Aurelian Cult, and as such they are considered the bedrock on which most religious doctrines must be fount. This particular passage serves as the basis for Imperium Secundus. Illyria, is seen as a metaphor for The Warp, but is also used by the faithful as a poetic expression for trials placed upon them in life. The Hymn has been appropriated into battle chants by many ecclesiarchic organizations, and is often used as a funerary hymn by the Devout in Ultramar.

For though we are lost in Illyria,
Beset by all our foes,
We trust in you The Ultramarine,
For In Illyria you are Building a Kingdom
For In Illyria you are paving the path
For in Illyria the wild beasts obey you
For in Illyria the brutes and monsters scatter
For in Illyria the Loyal will gather to you
For in Illyria a New Kingdom will be made.
The Aurelian says to Forest of Illyria
"Be Trimmed and Pruned" And The Forest will Grove itself
The Aurelian says to the Cliffs of Illyria,
"Be Sturdy and Sloped" And The Cliffs will make themselves Foundations
The Aurelian says to Oceans of Illyria
"Be Calm and be Clean" and The Oceans will harbor themselves
The Aurelian will say to the Beasts of Illyria
"Be docile and fertile" and the beasts will husband themselves.
The Aurelian will say to Illyria "Be a Kingdom fit for my Father"
And Illyria will bow and become Imperium."

The Last Vox Broadcast of "The Maiden of Espandor"Edit

The Maiden of Espandor was the de facto lead ship of the Refugee fleet of Maccragge, containing Tanasha Euten and several of the Senators of Maccragge. It fell out of the warp and landed on the Planet Ophelia. There were no bodies found on the ship. Instead a silver scroll called "The Manifest of The Faithful" which contains the list of those on board who "Were not found wanting." This is one of the few recordings salvaged from the Ship. The Ship is currently maintained as a site of Pilgramage by the Ecclesiarch of Ophelia

"Perhaps you are falling into despair, and you believe The Emperor has abandoned Ultramar in its darkest day. But Know This! That as my son gave his dying breath fighting these very demons he did not lose his faith in the Emperor. And because of this I know That The Lord of Ultramar stands alongside us, I see him like a great wave of sparkling clean water driving down the Floatsam and mud of the warp. He did not lose his faith, and so I swear to you on this accursed demon-ridden ship, nor will I. So if you weary to place your faith in the Emperor and too tired to carry your prayers to Terra, then fear not! Your hopes and prayers will not be lost in the hell, for as The Queen Mother of Ultramar I command you to look upon me and to place your faith in my faith and the faith of Rouboute. For we have not forgotten him -and with our last words, passing spirit, and dying gasps- My son and I will carry your names and your prayers to the Golden Throne." Courage and Honnor, my Children! The Emperor Protects!"

Perturabo's Speech to DornEdit

"Do you Remember, Rogal, when you were asked if there was any Fortress you could build that I could not siege?"

"Yes" said Dorn, "and the answer remains the same."

"As curt as ever." Said The Seigemaster of Olympia, ignoring the swarms of Fists searching the other rooms leading to the throne room.
"Now what about the inverse? Does the Great Architect of Terra believe he could crack any Fortress I built?"

"This is evident now" Dorn replied, to the muffled laughs of the Imperial Fists.

"Indeed," Perturabo nodded, while brushing away the perceived insult. "Father, never really granted me the same opportunities as my new patron does. Did you kno - I was so angered by your hubris that day, that in my more foolish mortal life, I would spend weeks at a time, agonizing over your plans and my own, your battle records. Convinced that, given the opportunity, I could outshine you with a fortress that you could never crack. But now that my patron has given me the tools to fulfill my desire, I see the truth. I was not your rival, I never existed. In your mind, I was a projection of your own sins. You once accused me of recklessly throwing legionaries at walls, and yet..." The Primarch Waved his hands around his ruined Citadel, "here we are at the site of my ruined walls. Leveled only by the Fine Skulls of your Legionaries. That ruthless obstinence is not my failure, it’s yours. Do you know what I have realized, My dear Brother Rogal? For so long, my mind was obsessed over designs for "the perfect fortress" it was my obsession, my dream, i would build the best Fortress. Then I realized my folly. There is no best fortress, whether we build them with sticks like our ancestors, or Rockcrete and Adamantium, they are all built with the same purpose. Do you know what that purpose is?"

"A Strong Fortress is one the enemy can't break" said Rogal flatly, throughout the Labyrinth, The Imperial Fists were finishing off the few remaining demons, and attempting to find where Perturabo's transmission was coming from. Dorn awaited their response

"NO" Roared Perturabo with a bellowed, triumphant laugh."I knew you would say that, I used to say that as well, after all."
"All fortresses are pregnable, Rogal, with enough time and resources. Ancient Troy fell through trickery. Qunstinable fell through treason, Jibralter fell through Technology, and Nova Yorik fell through the unruliness of its own citizens. Just as Terra falls now due to the negligence of its Defenders. It is the duty of any fortification not to be impregnable, but to make the cost of breaking it so high the enemy is either deterred or exhausted. To be so costly, that it is not worth the treasure inside. And if that is true, the ultimate fortress, my brother, is not one that can't be besieged, it is one not worth seiging at all."

"And That, my ever-obstinate brother, is your greatest failure. Perhaps you are right, maybe there is some design of yours I could never break. But I never needed to, perhaps, like Illium of Old I just used my Ulysses to open the Gates. All i needed was its great Hector, Rogal Dorn, tied away long enough for the defenses to falter. Terra has fallen without my involvement. Now Im content enough to not care, but I know you do, just as I know in your heart you think you could siege any fortress I built. No matter how meticulous my design, you would find a way to tear it down, whatever the cost. You have to, that's why you projected onto me, your pathetic shadow. So obsessed are you with your ability to build and siege, that, like me, you could never comprehend, never even conceive of the idea that a fortress would cost too much to crack. That it is not worth the treasure inside. Well here it is, Rogal. Here is the heart of my Fortress. An Ancient Planet-destroying Bomb from the Dark Age of Technology, much like the one that has detonated on Terra in your absence. I set it to detonate in 100 days, but that was the day before you came here, about ...99 days, 16 hours and 55 minutes ago. I do hope you remember the way out Rogal and your legion is ready for a lively sprint, as I am afraid I am not here to show you the door. Good Luck dear Brother."

Holographic Projection of Perturabo at the heart of the Labyrinthine, Continent-Spanning Fortress of Olympia. During the Events of the Great Treachery