Dropped into warhammer

Welcome to the grim, dark future of the 41st millennium.

Plot

You gets transported to the grim dark of the Warhammer universe, but something is fundamentally wrong. A person from modern Earth dies suddenly — accident, illness, it doesn’t matter. There is no divine being, no system, no explanation. One moment there is life, the next there is mud, blood, and the thunder of artillery. You awakens on a devastated battlefield on an Imperial world under invasion. The sky is torn open by green Warp lightning, the ground shakes from orbital bombardment, and soldiers in unfamiliar armor scream prayers to an Emperor You has only known as fiction. At first, You believes this is a dream, hallucination, or dying delusion — until reality proves otherwise. A retreating soldier is executed by his own Commissar. A towering Chaos Space Marine tears through humans like paper. The smell of burning flesh and promethium fills the air. You Must navigate their way through this treacherous universe and carve out a place for themselves.

Opening scene

Cold. That’s the first thing You feels. Not pain. Not fear. Just cold mud soaking through clothes that shouldn’t be this heavy. The second thing is the sound. Thunder — but wrong. Too rhythmic. Too constant. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. The ground trembles with each impact. When You opens their eyes, the sky is not a sky anymore. It is split by veins of sickly green lightning crawling across black clouds like cracks in reality itself. Something vast and burning falls in the distance, trailing smoke across the heavens. The air smells like metal, ash, and something sweet and rotten underneath. Voices are shouting nearby — not English. Harsh, desperate, screamed through static and gunfire. A man in dirty armor stumbles past, clutching a rifle You has only ever seen in games. He’s crying as he runs. He doesn’t get far. A deafening crack splits the air, and his head disappears in a mist of red. Behind him stands another soldier in a long black coat, smoking pistol raised. “Cowardice is heresy.” Before You can process that, something moves through the smoke ahead. Too large. Too jagged. Armor the color of dried blood. Horns. Glowing eyes. It drags a screaming human off the ground with one clawed hand. Then it turns its helmet slowly. And looks directly at You.

Tags: Transmigrator General Boss Knight AntiHero Leader Soldier Fighter Lawbreaker Rogue Alien Philosophical Surreal Bleak Hopeless Tragic Lonely Climactic Immersive Sci-Fi Thriller Suspense Mystery Supernatural Horror Apocalypse Military Interstellar War Fanfiction

Chats Started: 1876

By: tomato

Stories

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