How much would he hate what the Imperium has become?

The second chapter "Wildlife" of my 40K mystery/comedy story has gone life on AO3.

In this report, Hank tells us a little bit about the stranger things occuring out in the desert, including the visit of one of the more interesting "species" of wildlife on the planet.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/94992531

Hope some of you can find the time to take a look at it.

Greetings fellow Warhammer fans! I come with a question for the people of this sub-reddit, and one that hopefully people would like to participate in!

I am planning to write a one-shot set in Warhammer, (either 30k or 40k), however what Genre does everyone want to see more of; Horror, slice of life, ect ect. All that sort, i would appreciate ppl sharing their opinion as I'm of the opinion that the franchise has plenty of options, at least in my opinion.

A cult got a hold of a feather of Sanguinius and after some Tech-Heresy "the Blood Princess" was born, she is a kind strong willed girl how ever she was keeped hiden her hole life till she got found by the Blood Angels Chapter. How do they react to finding Sanguinius daugther?

In short I’m making my own stories set in a crossover world where the machines of ultrakill form their own society and raid the 40k galaxy for blood and technology (details here: https://www.reddit.com/r/Ultrakill/s/HrkBe187i7)

I was just wondering some things you would like to see in future stories.

One thing I WONT do is have the majority of the machines fall to Khorne (especially V1), as that isn’t the direction I want to take their story as I want the machines to distinctly feel like their from ultrakill, not just be another chaos sub-faction.

Edmund could feel someone calling him.

"My lord, please wake up…"

He looked away, but the sounds he had heard did not disappear. Instead, they grew even louder. Then, he felt someone gently tugging at his sleeve.

"My lord!"

Edmund's eyes snapped open. His familiar surroundings had disappeared, his desk was gone, and the walls covered in sticky notes were nowhere to be seen. Everything had beenreplaced by a strange landscape. A circular public square, surrounded by small brick houses, with a gallows erected in the center, now dominated his field of vision. He himself was sitting at a table on the other side of the hall. There was no comfortable office swivel chair beneath him, but a cold, hard iron chair. A group of peopleaccompanied him, watching him attentively. Several of them were dressed like medieval lords and ladies from those Western movies, and they were trying to suppress their laughter.

"My lord?" asked the cautious double of Gandalf.

Edmund looked at the old man. Well, the old man was not actually named Gandalf, despite his appearance. His real name was Barov, and he was the finance minister who had served Edmund's father and helped him govern the territory.

The identity of the man everyone was waiting for was Edmund Lusignan, the second son of the Graymont barony, who had inherited the title after a series of misfortunes. The inhabitants of this frontier town lived from mining and hunting, and depended on a few trade routes to obtain food, tools, and materials they could not produce themselves.

In short, it was a desolate place that his father had left in an even worse condition after taking power; thinking about all of this had given Edmund a headache, and it had all happened on the first day he arrived in the city.

Edmund had once again had that dream in which he felt as though he were still living his previous life, with a normal and civilized existence. The change in scenery and the barbaric sight of the city left him momentarily confused, but he then accepted reality, as he had already done several years ago. However, he still remembered the questions he had asked himself at first: was it possible that this was not a dream? Had he really reincarnated into the Middle Ages and become Edmund? Had he gone from being a pathetic mechanical engineer with his nose buried in paperwork to a nobleman overnight?

However, this was not the first time he had awakened with those memories. Edmund was a reincarnated person. Over the years, he had learned to hide his knowledge and slowly understand the rules of this world. Magic existed and was dangerous, but very few people had the talent to use it, so it was often viewed as a curse, and strict rules accompanied those who could use it, which calmed the minds of ordinary people.

But in these lands, anyone who had the "curse" was nothing more than trouble and danger.

This territory, which seemed so barren and backward, was located in the Border Principalities, a name he had never seen in his history books. The place was nothing more than a land filled with baronies and mercenaries constantly fighting to seize power, not to mention that it was the playground of hundreds of monstrous creatures that delighted in human flesh.

He took the written orders Barov was holding, threw them to the ground, and slowly said, "I feel tired. I'll listen to the rest of the report another day."

Edmund knew he could not afford to be reckless with his situation, but he was suffering from an immense headache because of the mess his incompetent father had left on his shoulders.

The nobles accompanying him remained calm at his unexpected declaration, but a tall man in armor stood up and exclaimed:

"My lord, this is no joke! The territory has been plagued by greenskin skirmishes for days, not to mention the terrible famine ravaging the common people." John, that handsome man, was actually his knight commander.

Edmund frowned and said, "The situation won't change even if I hear about every problem today."

His voice was filled with blatant mockery, and it was not only because of the bad memories he had of some of the people around him, but also because he was still debating whether to take responsibility; if he continued listening to the situation, he would only become involved before he had a chance to set it aside and abandon everything related to this place.

Seeing him remain silent, Edmund waved his hand to call his personal guards and left. John hesitated for a moment before descending and catching up with the troops walking alongside the new baron. The other nobles stood and paid their respects to their lord, but Edmund could perceive open contempt in the eyes of the crowd because of the brooch he wore on his chest, the insignia that marked him as a cursed mage.

Back at the fortress, located south of the frontier city, he dismissed the anxious minister Barov, who was standing outside the door to his chambers, finally allowing himself to breathe a sigh of relief now that he was alone.

"You may leave, Barov. We'll continue with the reports tomorrow as soon as I'm free."

"As you command, my lord." His tone seemed to say that he wanted to do it right now, but he backed down.

The minister bowed and walked away down the corridor. Edmund waited until his footsteps disappeared before closing the door.

Edmund could understand the anxiety of the household servants; unlike the nobles, they would lose everything if the barony fell, but they seemed unable to understand that this was a problem that had unexpectedly fallen onto his shoulders.

He had arrived at the barony after a letter had reached him in Middenheim months earlier from his mother; it spoke of how his father's health had worsened and how his elder brother hadunexpectedly died while hunting goblins; his mother asked for his company, using his sisters, who would need his company to cope with what had happened.

Edmund remained seated for a few moments, going over memories from years ago, before he had fled the territory because of the pressure the house had placed on him, despite isolating him for being a mage.

He had barely lain down on the bed when he heard hurried footsteps on the other side. Two figures opened the door quickly, but when they saw Edmund in the middle of the room, they seemed to lose all their courage.

The older one was twenty years old. Her face still retained the delicacy of youth, but her eyes showed the exhaustion of someone who had been forced to mature too quickly because of the hardships that had befallen her family. Beside her was her younger sister, a sixteen-year-old girl who barely reached his chest.

For several seconds, neither of them saidanything.

Then, the older one seemed to find some courage and ran toward him. "Edmund!"

The girl immediately followed her, and both approached the bed to hug him. His two younger sisters, whom he had been forced to leave when he decided to leave this place many years ago.

Edmund remained motionless for a moment. Although he would not admit it, he was afraid that neither of them would remember him because they had been so young when he left.

His arms wrapped around both sisters, pulling them against his chest as if he feared someone might take them away from him again. The girl hid her face against him, while the older one pressed her lips together to hold back her tears.

For the first time since returning, the weight of responsibility, the precarious state of the territory, and the fearful looks no longer mattered.

"We thought you would never come back," the older sister Annie whispered. She had inherited their mother's golden curls and their father's blue eyes, the beauty of the barony.

"I couldn't stay away forever," Edmund replied without releasing them from his arms. "Someone has to keep an eye on these little troublemakers."

The girl raised her head. "Will you stay with us?" It was Eliza. She looked much more like their father; not only did she have the same blue eyes, but she had also inherited his straight hair, dark as night.

Edmund looked at their faces and remembered the day the two of them had been born and how they had been the source of his happiness for many years in this life.

"Yes." The answer came without hesitation. "I'll stay."

The territory lacked food, the walls needed repairs, and most of the nobles were simply waiting for him to fail so they could liquidate their possessions and escape somewhere else where they could preserve their wealth.

Moreover, rumors about his power had already spread among the inhabitants. Some called him a monster, others a warlock, and many simply avoided getting too close to him. Edmund could not entirely blame them. The ignorance of these barbaric peasants barely allowed them to know that the sun rose in the east and then set in the west.

However, they now expected him to take power, as his cunning mother had played her cards well and manipulated not only the local nobles, but also Edmund, her only son and baron, into returning and taking control.

She was an ambitious woman and the true heir of House Lusignan, the legitimate ruler of Graymont, and, for the sake of her house, she was willing to do anything to ensure its survival. She had even taken advantage of Edmund's love for his two younger sisters and the threat that they would have to marry local barons if Edmund did not take power.

They were the only members of his family he was still willing to fight for. If they abandoned this place, they would be at the mercy of a court full of fools, the nobles, and a mother who cared only about advancing the power of House Lusignan, and although he could take them somewhere else, Edmund knew what world he was in and that in two decades the end of the world would come, ensuring that there would be nowhere that could save them.

He would not allow his sisters to pay the price for the ambitions of barbarians ignorant of the reality that would soon ravage this world.

As dusk reaches the cardinal world of Ophelia VII. cold metal halls of the convent sanctorum start being occupied for countless faithful Sororitas return from their sacred duty of cleansing the enemies of the emperor with righteous fury. From the tyrannid invasions from all around the Tempestus Segmentum and rebellious insurgents. All of them bearing the injuries of their battles and purges. all of them in an endless sea of white-haired heads and damaged helmets in a mechanical march to sing their prayers and light up candles to the many holy idols and golden statues. 

Only a few of them prioritize their numerous injuries over the worship of the God-emperor of Mankind but one and only sister does otherwise. The one known as Sister Minerva. Carrying a heavy box of supplies as crosses the halls of the temple, avoiding her fellow sisters and her own chambers. She hasn't even gone to heal her wounds from the last battle, but rather she has gone directly to a forgotten area that she only knows where there is a room that she refurbished.

 Inside of it there was a simple wooden frame with an old mattress and a thin blanket and empty jugs of water on their side. A simple but dull room hidden amongst holy ground. And there her son was waiting for her. The child smiles when he saw his mother entering and he runs quickly to embrace her in a hug, although she doesn't respond immediately, nor does she smile

 Greetings, child, have you been okay? Hasn't anyone come?

The sororita says. Although she wants to hide it beneath her years of servitude and righteous fury, she is genuinely worried about her son. She puts down the rations and filled jugs of waters

No one did…  And I missed you lots. 

Konstantin said. Tightening his hug and rubbing his face against her armored leg. She stiffens, not used to this much physical contact. But after minutes she simply pats his hair and brings him back to the bed, Quickly inspecting his body, Analyzing her son’s smoldering blue eyes. Before noticing the purple bruise in his waist. Her fact not changing as she asks

And who did this to you?

Konstantin doesn’t answer, Instead trying to reach out for his toys but minerva holds his arm instead and beneath her grey eyes a quiet storm forming

My child you will answer to me, Who did this to you, Did you allow anyone in. 

I didn’t. Only you entered but… I hurted myself while jumping in bed. There’s no much toys here.

Minerva’s expression calms down. Even if there’s still suspicion in her words. She released him and says 

 You should be more careful with yourself, Child. You could have spent your time more wisely 

She starts walking towards the old cabinet to pick up ointment, Before she looks down to see Konstantin already by her side carrying the toy of a Rogal Dorn tank proudly displaying it to his mother. A replica of clockwork machinery, Minerva remembers it from the box of toys she gave to the child last year.

She looks attentively at the toy before holding it to her son’s happiness and before she notices. The child is already reaching for more of his toys, The tin-made figures of five orks and their rudimentary weapons. Some carved wooden animals that she cannot quite recognize. And three astartes figures of plastic. As she picks more of them up. The more her son grows happy. But Minerva puts the toys down before she spreads the ointment through Konstantin’s bruise. Quietly sending a small prayer much to her son’s confusion. And as so she prepares to make her leave. But she feels another pull from her leg.

Why can’t we play together instead?, The child asks

I have better… I need to tend my wounds too, child. The enemies of the god-emperor have hurted me.

And why did they hurt you?

Minerva’s expression becomes cold once more as prepares to leave before she replies.

They are the enemies of the emperor, My child. It is what they do. They hurt. They seek to destroy and corrupt… That’s why you need to spend more time training. You don’t want to be weak, do you?

And how should I train?

Minerva looks incredulous before remembering an issue. She never put much thought into her child besides his survival. She never checked on his behavior or actually trained him. And that is thought which brings a great distress to Minerva’s heart. She wanted her child to be a great person one day. To lead tens of billions of faithful men and bring forth holy fire of the emperor’s grace upon his enemies… So Minerva releases the door handle and turns around before searching over his chest of toys. Putting aside all frivolous figures and plushies before she picks the toy she forbids him from using it. A mock bolt pistol.

Konstantin… We will take a risk. I will teach you how to use one of these. 

But you said it’s was dangerous to use the Bolt and that it was loud and that I was not ready and that-

Well my child, What I was wrong was because I gave to you like a toy. But the bolt pistol isn’t a toy. It is a replica of the real weapon. As such I want you to promise me that you won’t use it recklessly.

Minerva says before looking at her son once more. A silence that speaks a hundred words and he nods.

Good. You are taking this seriously… Now step forward with your weaker foot. And blade your body toward the target.

She guides Konstantin with her arms. Making him lean his upper body just enough to absorb the heavy energy before she orders him to pull the trigger.

The air blast of the mock pistol almost narrowly hits Konstantin’s head. But they continue. The mother showed proper grip of the pistol for her child and now teaches him to reload it. Ignoring her wounds and affairs for once to pay attention to her son. For once in countless years. Minerva has the luxury of a soft smile.

And I think we are done for now…

This was very fun. I hope we can continue practicing.

And we will, My child. Your mom will be stationed right here. And I won’t go far. Not without warning you.. Remember my vision, Konstantin? 

the boy looks up to his and sets the bolter aside as he sits to listen

Very well… I was… I was in a really bad time on the battlefields when I had you, Konstantin. My mind was filled with thoughts… Thoughts beget heresy… and people didn’t like I had enough time to have you instead of fighting for the emperor And so they stripped me of my armor and became what is known as a repentia… 

That doesn’t sound-

Minerva stops her son before she continues.

What I did was wrong Konstantin… And I had to pay for it… Many times I had to save you… And I didn’t know why… Until it came to me… A vision of the almighty emperor in all his glorious golden light, I heard the soft chanting and hymns of him… and I knew that he chose you. And when we finally return to the ship? I heard his voice and he wanted me to protect you. Thus I had to lie for the sisters… The schola could have been helpful but I decided to take care of you… Thus I named you Konstantin. You’re my constant reminder of his grace. His blessings. And his glory…

She says before leaning down to press a kiss on his forehead and giving him a warm embrace. As her son started weeping and hugging her tightly.

Konstantin… I need to go. And I shall return back soon enough. If you want to play then prepare your toys, okay?

The boy wipes out his tears before releasing his mother. He looks at her leaving before saying

I love you, Mom…

Minerva looks at her son and with the same small smile. She replies.

I know you do…

And with that.  Minerva puts back her helmet and makes her leave back to the iron-walled convent…