Warhammer: Opening is a Crisis of Doom

"Blood is sacrificed to the blood god, and the skull is sacrificed to the skull."

"The false emperor is dead, and the blood god shall stand."

A man let out a furious growl.

Behind him, a dark group of people were also roaring, responding to the man.

Roaring, roaring, countless voices sounded together.

The same voice resounded throughout the hive.

They wield crude weapons of all kinds, and their ragged bodies are smeared with the hideous runes of Chaos.

Gather together and launch an attack on various important buildings in Terra.

Shadows of the Inanimate lurk among the thugs, baring hideous fangs and spikes.

Prey on those soldiers loyal to the corpse emperor.

The sky is shattering, the earth is burning, blood and fire are spreading.

The once ignored voice turned into fury, venting its fury to the world.

Nava wasn't dead, but he wasn't alive either.

His body was shattered, and his original human body was replaced by wriggling flesh tentacles and numerous bone spurs.

What supports him is infinite anger, and what supports him is hatred for the injustice of this world.

Destruction, destruction, endless destruction.

All that remains in his heart is the endless meaning of destruction.

In this world, even the dignity of beggars would be stripped and trampled upon.

Then destroy, utterly destroy.

Those high-ranking nobles, those meat-eaters who claim to be of noble birth, those dignitaries who claim that the bottom is just their pawns.

They will eventually taste the bitter fruit of their own brew.

Death and killing spread, and gradually spread, submerging the nest.

Nava ran in the crowd, and the artillery fire fell near him, and he was "lucky" to dodge every time.

The thugs next to him were blown away by the roaring artillery fire, and the body depicting the blasphemous runes became fragmented.

After a while, a group of thugs were obliterated by artillery fire, and their mutilated limbs were scattered all over the ground, shattered. Such a scene was really bloody and cruel to the extreme.

But Nava crossed the blockade of firepower and landed in the corpse emperor's army.

The soldiers screamed as they raised their guns and fired at Nava.

The beam of the laser gun hit Nava's body, but it had no effect at all. It was directly absorbed by the squirming flesh and blood, leaving no trace on his disgusting body.

However, Nava's attack was too deadly for ordinary soldiers.

He waved his arm, and the sharp spikes pierced the soldiers' bodies.

The bright red blood melted into his body along the spikes.

Along with the killing, his aura became more terrifying.

In just a short moment, the defense line with hundreds of people stationed was slaughtered by him.

The mob surged through the gap he opened, and stormed the palace, the most sacred building on Terra.

Nava turned into a blood-colored figure and rushed towards the army loyal to the corpse emperor.

Claws tear teeth and bite, wherever they go, everywhere they go, blood is splashed.

Demons earned their right to descend upon Terra for their slaying.

The dead life becomes a bridge to reality for the inanimate.

The subspace roared continuously, and the ether storm became more and more severe, causing more and more serious oppression.

The veil of reality is almost completely broken down.

A more terrifying will oppresses Terra, and is about to descend into the real universe.

They are coming.

They are coming.

The psyker cried out in agony in despair.

They felt an unprecedented sense of oppression.

Terrible nightmares plagued them.

Blood will soak Terra, and everything will be completely destroyed.

An unbearable and terrifying existence is about to come.

Destruction, destruction, everything is going to be destroyed, utterly destroyed.

Death, disaster, despair, sadness, everything will be completely destroyed.

It was time for reckoning.

No one can escape.

The noble will be drowned in blood.

The vile will also die in despair.

Everything will be destroyed.

will be destroyed.

Valyrian stood on the ramparts of Lion's Gate in golden armor, weapon in hand.

He watched as the flood of enemies broke through the defense lines and rushed towards the Lion's Gate.

Mighty, like a torrent of water.

Overwhelming, destroying everything.

Any Loyalist forces that try to stand in their way will be utterly destroyed.

Drown in the tide of despair, all will be lost.

Those thugs, some of them human, were inscribed with various Chaos runes, and those runes ensured that they would not be harmed by their allies in the warp for a while.

At least, they will not be harmed until the power of chaos achieves its intended goal.

In the other part, they have mutated, and the pollution of the subspace has made them neither human nor ghost, like monsters covered with bone spurs, or redundant organs such as eyes.

This team is huge, and although the weapons and equipment are simple, it gives people a huge sense of oppression.

Valyrian is also very clear that this is only the beginning.

As the riots continue and the shortage of food, there will be more and more mobs out of control.

Terra has a population of hundreds of billions, and there are several large hive cities in total. Once there is a full-scale riot, the consequences will be disastrous.

As these thugs rampage, the warp and the veil of reality grow weaker.

He could sense that something terrible was about to happen.

"Get ready to fight them off," Valyrian said.

When those thugs and demons approached the Lion's Gate, the battle belonging to the Custodians officially started.

For the outside of the palace, the Imperial Army did not pay too much attention.

They just need to defend the outer and inner courts and defend the Holy Emperor.

The defense in the palace is extremely strict.

Even if part of the army was taken away by the high lord's gang of wine bags and rice bags, it was still the most heavily defended place on Terra.

After the mobs entered the shooting range, the high-walled fortress began to spray shells and plasma non-stop.

Every wall and tower is built with automatic turrets and defense arrays.

The dense firepower instantly tore apart the thugs who wanted to attack the Lion's Gate.

Even demons were torn to pieces by such violent firepower.

Valyrian looked at a mutant among the thugs, charging from left to right, overturning several positions in a row, frowning, he turned and walked towards the landing platform.

His golden presence comforted the terrified defenders, letting them know that he had not been abandoned.

"My lord." The short but strong man trotted over.

"Stick to your post." Valyrian didn't pay much attention to him, and walked straight past him, the war halberd in his hand began to dance with plasma arcs.

"My lord, where are you going?" the man asked.

Valyrian ignored him, but slowly picked up his pace and began to run.

Custodians are the Emperor's creations, each forged in a special way.

Loyalty and strength are synonymous with them.

Valyrian's heart was extremely calm, and he stared closely at the monster covered in squirming flesh and spikes.

The warp-twisted monster grows stronger as it kills under the watchful eye of the blood god.

If you let it go, I'm afraid it will cause more damage.

Nava's only remaining blood-red eyes stared at the golden man rushing towards him.

He let out a deafening roar that resounded throughout the battlefield.

The mortal soldiers trembled at his roar, and the raised guns quivered.

Nava brandished his bloody spikes and rushed towards him.

Go to hell, servant of the corpse emperor.

Infinite anger emerged in his heart, and he no longer had the mentality of awe of these noble golden men in the past.

1 There is nothing but killing.

There is only total destruction.

Valyrian's combat skills are superb, he is a leader in the blood game, and he is always working hard to defeat these shameful traitors who have betrayed the Emperor and turned to Chaos.

When he was about to get close to the opponent, he bent down suddenly, and the acceleration caused him to form a roll, successfully avoiding the attack of the hateful monster.

Valyrian swung his combat skills, and the weapon surrounding the plasma arc easily tore apart the opponent's flesh and stabbed inside.

Inch by inch.

Then the trigger was pulled inside the monster.

With a loud bang, half of his body was blown to pieces.

Nava let out a howl of pain.

He underestimated the strength and skill of these golden men.

But the endless rage in his heart drove him to move on, launching an even more violent offensive.

Valyrian responded calmly, waving the weapon in his hand, seized an opportunity, and struck out fiercely, beheading the opponent's head in an instant.

Nava's roar disappeared.

The huge body also became fragmented, and finally fell down.

At this time, fifty heavy-duty Starcastle machine slaves came with heavy steps.

They are painted with the mechanical emblem of the holy Mars.

The muscles injected with chemical agents for a long time are abnormally strong, even reaching an unbelievable level.

They are equipped with terrifying firepower, enough to destroy all obstacles to their heart's content.

A torrential rain of cannonballs illuminated the parade avenue like daylight, and every laser light could slice off the mob's limbs.

Energy cannons and plasma weapons burst out small suns.

The fire dragon flew out from the muzzle of the flamethrower, devouring pieces of targets.

Roaring heavy bombs and dark jets knocked down mobs one after another with their violent killing.

The mob fell one after another, like wheat under a sickle.

Some were smashed to pieces by the dense rain of bullets.

There are also some people who are still shouting the slogan of the blood god, and then they are harvested.

The roar of heavy tanks came, and the tracks crushed the flesh, making a living way through the piled up corpses.

The gunfire sounded, and the mob scattered and fled.

They are no match for heavy tanks with flesh and blood.

Even those demons can't help it.

They are still weak.

Coupled with the Emperor's power permeating Terra, they are in a weak position.

The tank crushed them, destroying all the hard-fought flesh and blood.

Soon the demons were expelled again in despair, and the thugs who flocked to the Lion's Gate were also defeated in the brutal strangulation and fled in all directions.

Those who remained were either crushed to death by tanks or harvested by machine slaves.

"My lord." A soldier saluted Valyrian, fear in his eyes.

In the battle just now, Valyrian's performance could be called the God of War alive.

The weapon in his hand swung around, and everything he passed turned into stumps and broken arms.

No one can stop his blow, and no one can stop his offensive.

Valyrian didn't pay much attention, just nodded.

He looked at the fleeing thugs with a stern expression. This was just the first time, a beginning.

He knew those guys would come again.

Valyrian looked to the sky.

The blood-colored sky was blazing, and everything was shrouded in it.

The intention of the power of chaos has been fully revealed.

They are going into Terra.

Enter the holiest palace.

Imperial Chancellery.

Tyrian stood on the balcony of the Prime Minister's Mansion, watching everything drowned in the sea of ​​fire with sad eyes.

The living live in it, devouring the flesh and blood of the ignorant.

The upper echelon he was in was under martial law layer by layer, so far, it was considered safe.

This is only temporary. With the spread of mobs, the crisis will eventually become bigger and bigger, and in the end it will completely go out of control.

It is impossible for such a group of mobs to cross the city wall by their own strength.

But the problem is that they can overload urban areas and lead to a weakening of security, at which point the necessary cleanup action can be taken.

More importantly, the blood rituals performed by these thugs are weakening Terra's warp barriers.

Everything is moving towards fragility and towards an unpredictable future.

After the riots and warp storms, Tyrion could barely sleep.

Mania can only be relieved by taking large doses of anesthetics.

The hiss of runaway energy in the sky made true rest and contemplation impossible.

A glance seems to reveal new fears in the darkness.

Every half hour, Tyrian would wake up crying from his sleep, his hands clutching the sweat-soaked sheets.

Once, Tyrian adjusted his face in the mirror, but saw a devil's face smiling at me behind him.

He had to smash the mirror to get rid of the hallucination.

Another night, he nearly suffocated in a dream as he dreamed that he was skinned alive by laughing butchers in longwinged helmets.

Tyrian holds a high position, but he is just an unlucky bastard without psychic power.

Being able to encounter these is not a sign of his spiritual awakening, but a terrible crisis is approaching.

The riots in the warp have caused ordinary people to be troubled too.

Tyrian is surrounded by countless protections, but he still feels panic and fear.

And how frightened are the unprotected civilians

Tyrion felt bad. He should have protected those people.

However, he didn't.

Tyrion felt like a coward who had broken his promise.

He stayed in his prime minister's residence as much as possible, gave instructions to various troops, and dispatched their support and evacuation.

In an alternative way, to fulfill their duties.

But such days did not last long, Tirian thought that in such days, those small deeds he had done would be forgotten.

However, no.

One morning, when he finished washing, he was ready to continue to preside over various tasks on Terra, trying his best to minimize the empire's losses in this rebellion.

Walking into the hall, he smelled a faint smell of blood.

The guards fell in a pool of blood, and they all died without a sound.

Tyrian didn't run, he knew it was pointless.

The other party can silently deal with his personal guard, and he can also deal with him quietly.

The reason why he didn't solve him silently must be because he wanted to see him and taste his despair and pain.

Tyrian tidied his clothes and walked in.

"'Looks like you slept well, Tyrian.'"

Iltu, the director of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, sat on the throne in the hall and watched Tyrian walk in.

"What do you mean?" Tyrian looked at Iltu who was sitting on the throne.

"Clean up the traitors, Tyrian, your time has come."

Director of Internal Affairs Irtu took out a pulse pistol and pointed it at Tirian, speaking in a cold tone.