You… think too much. It’s always been your issue. You’ve had twelve miserable years in the world, an existence wracked with headaches, horrible, coma-like states known as your “deep dreams”, and horrible, scratching and never-ceasing voices that knaw at your sanity. You’ve been left frail, pale and very skinny from your condition as you spend most of your life sleeping, wrapped up and coddled in a tent of animal hides. If there was any justice, you would’ve been left on a hill to die when your tribe realized how weak you were, but through your condition you’ve made yourself useful. You have premonitions, messages that you can make out from the depth of your dreams that make you the most valuable member of the tribe. Whether it be seeing the green flames of anger running through the eastern fringes of the forests that signal an upcoming Greenkskin attack, the sweet smells drifting from the lake that indicate a herd of Braxen or a flock of buzzards that can easily be haunted down by some of your hunters. That’s not even to mention some of your other abilities. You can unnerve, even frighten strong warriors with a glance, cause mass confusion with a few words, easily convince some of the dumber members of the tribe to do your bidding, and with a lot of effort you’re able to “drag” items towards you without touching them. Still, due to the fact you can barely walk, it’s hardly a fair trade off.

“Karth!” a voice cries.

You look up, pulling your skinny body slightly above the blankets that are wrapped around you to look at Duggin as he walks inside, carrying a spear, a bow and sheath, wearing the hide of one of the many beasts of the jungle.

“What thoughts have you for us today?” Duggin asks.

You love your tribe. Your tribe is a group of strong, brave and loyal men who only want the best for each other. Better men don’t exist. Unfortunately, they’re idiots. Half your job here is relaying the many dreams, omens and messages you have in your sleep. The other half is keeping them from killing themselves. There are men here who have lived twenty, thirty, forty, even fifty years, but in your twelve years on this world you’ve learned infinitely more. You introduced them to the concept of stealing the hides from slain beasts and wearing it as your own, the concept of hiding like a predator with camouflage and strength, and new battlefield strategies beyond “attack!”.

“None. It was a peaceful night,” you say.

“We’re having a hunt with the Azajaja tribe. We’re heading to meet up with them soon.”

You nod, raising your bony arms as Duggin lifts you up. You wrap your frail body around him as he walks outside. A large boar-like creature, a puk, sits there with a double-saddle tied to it. Duggin sits in the front saddle and places you in the back one, wrapping blankets tightly around you. You need the blankets for multiple reasons: to keep warm, to give yourself some sort of cushion to protect your fragile body, and most importantly it stops from having to feel the rough puk hair. Many textures, just like puk hair, just sends you into a tantrum for some strange reason. You can't rationalize it, but it still effects you. The puk begins striding forward in a half-gallop, as the other hunters of your tribe hop astride the puk, heading out toward the nearby lake. Suddenly, you watch as dozens of lizard-like creatures burst out of the trees, scuttling away from the jungles.

“Ah! Look what we have here, boys! Fresh prey, sent to us by the great God-Emperor!” Duggin yells, raising his bow.

You watch as the lizards charge out with reckless abandon, straight into your arrow fire. You pull yourself up the saddle into more of a sitting position, thinking. These are simple beasts, but even beasts have a level of cunning that stops them from acting as such. They aren’t this stupid, are they?
> You warn your allies
These beasts would never simply charge into the path of a fierce predator… unless a fiercer predator was chasing them.

“Wait! Wait! Attack!” you shout.

“What?” Duggin asks, annoyed as your outburst causes him to miss a shot.

“There’s something chasing the beasts!”

Duggin raises an eyebrow, before barking out an order. The hunters quickly rearrange formation, just as a horde of Greenskins charge out of the trees with a fierce roar. A burst of spears and arrows flies out from your allies, but the orks take them in their stride. Arrows imbed themselves into their chest and arms, but they don’t go down. Spears jab forward, metal points finding the softest parts of the thick green skin, sinking deep with a spurt of blood. There’s about two dozen, as many as you, but they can take more punishment. You’re outnumbered, but thanks to your forethought and your tiny amount of preparation, you have a chance. You still find yourself useless in the upcoming battle, but it lasts only a few minutes. You watch as blood is shed, limbs are hacked off and puk are struck down. You use what little might you have to cling onto the puk, only barely stopping yourself from falling off. You close your eyes, and wait. Eventually, Duggin calls you.

“Karth! It’s over!” he says.

You open your eyes, and survey the carnage. Bodies litter the earth, green and tan, lean and muscled, big and small. You’ve lost half your hunters in a single attack, but the rest of you have survived with few wounds. When orks strikes land, they kill, not wound.

“Men, we need to check on the Azajaja boys!” Duggin yells.

He rides forward, towards the Azajaja camp, deep in the trees. You cling to the puk, looking through the trees as you approach their camp. It’s in ruins. Tents have been torn apart, set alight and entirely wiped out. Bodies cover the ground, and you see the last few remnants of the Azajaja struggling to fight off the approaching Orks. Most are naked, still refusing to pick up your tactic of not going into battle with their dicks flapping in the breeze or their breasts hanging, as well as being one of the more idiotic tribes not to take on clothing at all, unlike yours.

“Idiots,” you mutter to yourself.

Duggin raises his spear and charges forward, the puk bursting forward as you struggle to hold on. Why couldn’t the idiot have left you at home?! Your allies attack with rage and speed, smashing into the orks from behind. There’s a short, brutal fight, before you see an ork charging towards you, swinging his axe.

“Duggin!” you yell, pointing at the ork.

Duggin turns, but he’s not fast enough. The ork’s weapon smashes into your puk, cutting through flesh and beheading him in a single blow. You’re sent flying as the puk collapses suddenly, smashing into the cold earth. You let out a pained yell, before opening your hazy eyes, only to find yourself in the centre of the remaining Azajaja survivors, which only consist of half a dozen warriors, a number that’s constantly dropping as the Orks charge once more, as well as two dozen civilians hastily armed with weapons. Suddenly, a small, goblin-like creature, a Gretchen, scampers through the warriors’ line, carrying a small knife fashioned from a large stone, who lets out a chuckle as he spots you and lets out a terrifying grin. You need to do something, fast.
> You crawl away
You scamper backward, before the creature charges toward you with its blade. You grab the earth, your frail strength still managing to pull your light body away, but the Gretchen it eager. It leaps onto you with a yell, jamming its blade into your throat. You let out a yell, as blood stains the ground.


These beasts would never simply charge into the path of a fierce predator… unless a fiercer predator was chasing them.

“Wait! Wait! Attack!” you shout.

“What?” Duggin asks, annoyed as your outburst causes him to miss a shot.

“There’s something chasing the beasts!”

Duggin raises an eyebrow, before barking out an order. The hunters quickly rearrange formation, just as a horde of Greenskins charge out of the trees with a fierce roar. A burst of spears and arrows flies out from your allies, but the orks take them in their stride. Arrows imbed themselves into their chest and arms, but they don’t go down. Spears jab forward, metal points finding the softest parts of the thick green skin, sinking deep with a spurt of blood. There’s about two dozen, as many as you, but they can take more punishment. You’re outnumbered, but thanks to your forethought and your tiny amount of preparation, you have a chance. You still find yourself useless in the upcoming battle, but it lasts only a few minutes. You watch as blood is shed, limbs are hacked off and puk are struck down. You use what little might you have to cling onto the puk, only barely stopping yourself from falling off. You close your eyes, and wait. Eventually, Duggin calls you.

“Karth! It’s over!” he says.

You open your eyes, and survey the carnage. Bodies litter the earth, green and tan, lean and muscled, big and small. You’ve lost half your hunters in a single attack, but the rest of you have survived with few wounds. When orks strikes land, they kill, not wound.

“Men, we need to check on the Azajaja boys!” Duggin yells.

He rides forward, towards the Azajaja camp, deep in the trees. You cling to the puk, looking through the trees as you approach their camp. It’s in ruins. Tents have been torn apart, set alight and entirely wiped out. Bodies cover the ground, and you see the last few remnants of the Azajaja struggling to fight off the approaching Orks. Most are naked, still refusing to pick up your tactic of not going into battle with their dicks flapping in the breeze or their breasts hanging, as well as being one of the more idiotic tribes not to take on clothing at all, unlike yours.

“Idiots,” you mutter to yourself.

Duggin raises his spear and charges forward, the puk bursting forward as you struggle to hold on. Why couldn’t the idiot have left you at home?! Your allies attack with rage and speed, smashing into the orks from behind. There’s a short, brutal fight, before you see an ork charging towards you, swinging his axe.

“Duggin!” you yell, pointing at the ork.

Duggin turns, but he’s not fast enough. The ork’s weapon smashes into your puk, cutting through flesh and beheading him in a single blow. You’re sent flying as the puk collapses suddenly, smashing into the cold earth. You let out a pained yell, before opening your hazy eyes, only to find yourself in the centre of the remaining Azajaja survivors, which only consist of half a dozen warriors, a number that’s constantly dropping as the Orks charge once more, as well as two dozen civilians hastily armed with weapons. Suddenly, a small, goblin-like creature, a Gretchen, scampers through the warriors’ line, carrying a small knife fashioned from a large stone, who lets out a chuckle as he spots you and lets out a terrifying grin. You need to do something, fast.
> You attack it
You grab a rock, swinging it forward and smashing it into the side of the Gretchen’s face. It smacks into the ground, and you climb atop it and smack it into the creature’s skull again and again. The Gretchen’s head is crushed, and you let out a relieved sigh. The relief is short-lived, though, as the orks continue to charge forward, swinging hastily-made weapons. The number of Azajaja survivors grows much smaller, as your tribesmen attempt to rescue both them and you whilst surviving the onslaught of Greenskin, but there’s just too many. Hands grab your shoulders and pull you up, just out of the path of an oncoming spear. You turn, to see the face of a young girl, barely older than you, holding a spear with a terrified look on her face. You blush as you realize she’s naked, before chiding yourself for having such an immature thought while people are charging to kill you. You hear a roar, and turn back to see an ork charging forward. He sees you, raising his axe.
> You crawl away
You scamper backward, before the creature charges toward you with its blade. You grab the earth, your frail strength still managing to pull your light body away, but the ork swings, the blade sinking into your shoulder, cutting through bone and flesh with ease. You let out a yell, as blood stains the ground.


You grab a rock, swinging it forward and smashing it into the side of the Gretchen’s face. It smacks into the ground, and you climb atop it and smack it into the creature’s skull again and again. The Gretchen’s head is crushed, and you let out a relieved sigh. The relief is short-lived, though, as the orks continue to charge forward, swinging hastily-made weapons. The number of Azajaja survivors grows much smaller, as your tribesmen attempt to rescue both them and you whilst surviving the onslaught of Greenskin, but there’s just too many. Hands grab your shoulders and pull you up, just out of the path of an oncoming spear. You turn, to see the face of a young girl, barely older than you, holding a spear with a terrified look on her face. You blush as you realize she’s naked, before chiding yourself for having such an immature thought while people are charging to kill you. You hear a roar, and turn back to see an ork charging forward. He sees you, raising his axe.
> You attack
You grab a rock, swinging it forward, but the ork’s so big you can only reach its thigh, and the rock harmlessly bounces off the ork. The ork swings, the blade sinking into your shoulder, cutting through bone and flesh with ease. You let out a yell, as blood stains the ground.


You grab a rock, swinging it forward and smashing it into the side of the Gretchen’s face. It smacks into the ground, and you climb atop it and smack it into the creature’s skull again and again. The Gretchen’s head is crushed, and you let out a relieved sigh. The relief is short-lived, though, as the orks continue to charge forward, swinging hastily-made weapons. The number of Azajaja survivors grows much smaller, as your tribesmen attempt to rescue both them and you whilst surviving the onslaught of Greenskin, but there’s just too many. Hands grab your shoulders and pull you up, just out of the path of an oncoming spear. You turn, to see the face of a young girl, barely older than you, holding a spear with a terrified look on her face. You blush as you realize she’s naked, before chiding yourself for having such an immature thought while people are charging to kill you. You hear a roar, and turn back to see an ork charging forward. He sees you, raising his axe.
> You scream
You can barely walk. You’re not going to crawl away from an ork, let alone kill it. The orks have struck down everyone around you. Only you and the girl are left, with your tribesmen on the other side of a wall of green muscle, struggling to survive. You do pretty much the only thing you can do. You let out a terrified, ear-piercing scream. In one outburst of air, you release all your pent-up terror and fear. The ork lets out a pained howl, clutching its ears. It continues screaming, collapsing to its knees, before its head explodes in a spray of crimson mist. You watch as dozens of orks collapse to the ground, blood streaming from their eyes, ears, nose and mouth. You feel a scratching behind your eyes, in the centre of your skull, as if invisible hands are trying to pull you apart. You let out a moan, and collapse backwards.
> You enter oblivion
You have horrible nightmares of ever-changing balls of tentacles and eyes, horrible creatures of claws, breasts, hooves and long tongues, large, boil-covered, plague-ridden abominations and horned red beasts wielding flaming swords. Finally, you awaken in a cold sweat, coddled in your old, musky blankets. You look around, your eyes adjusting to the light of dusk. You notice the girl from earlier sitting in the corner, scaled hides and furs wrapped around her with her head resting on the handle of the sword she’s clutching. She notices your wandering eyes and begins staring at you with her bright, green eyes. She's covered in dirt, with her brown hair hacked as short as yours, making her look like a boy.

“You’re awake,” she says.

“Yes,” you reply, staring back at her, wondering why she’s keeping herself from blinking.

“You sleep a long time.”

“I do.”

You sit there staring at each for quite some time, before the tent flap opens as Duggin walks inside. You notice several fresh scars across his chest, and a long one across his face.

“Karth! You’re awake!” he says with surprise.

“How long was I dreaming?” you ask.

“Two weeks. We thought… after what happened… Well, we considered feeding you to the puk,” Duggin chuckles. “Good to see you’re alive. What visions have you had?”

You reflect briefly on your dreams.

“There’s heavy storms coming within a weak, heavy amounts prey south towards the coast of the lake… and no sign of Greenskin activity,” you say.

“Good to know, little one. I’ll pass the message on.”

Duggin turns his attention to the girl, who sits there.

“Have you met the Azajaja, Karth?” he asks. “She hasn’t said a word the entire time she was here. She just sat there. It took a fierce bit of effort to get her to eat. I’m pretty sure she’s just been shitting in the corner.”

Duggin looks to the girl, seemingly expecting her to say something, but she says nothing, just stares at you.

“I’ll… grab you some food and drink. For both of you,” Duggin says, walking out of the tent, leaving you and the girl alone.

“I’m Karth,” you reply, offering your hand to shake.

She just sits there in response, staring at you. It’s getting unnerving. After a few minutes, Duggin returns, carrying two wooden bowls of cooked meats as well as two more of wine. He leaves them on the floor in front of you.

“Make sure she eats. I’ll give you some time, but then we need to discuss how you wiped out two dozens orks with… whatever powers you’ve been blessed with,” he says, before leaving.

You grab the two bowls of meat, sliding one across the floor to her. You begin eating, as she does the same. She grabs the meat and stuffs it into her mouth, all without breaking eye contact or letting go of her sword. She eats the meat with her mouth open, making loud chewing noises. You wince at the noise, the churning, slicing and crushing being another thing your mind is repulsed by. You blink, unnerved by the staring, but begin to eat, the delicious taste of flesh filling your mouth.

“You snore loudly,” she says after several minutes.

“Yeah, I’ve been told,” you reply.

"What do you do?" she asks.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you do all day? You don’t seem like you can walk around much, let alone do chores or work.”

“I sit here and sleep a lot. Sometimes I make plans when needed.”

“Why are you so pale?” she asks quizzically.

“I spend most of my time in a tent, obviously,” you reply.

“Do you want to go outside?” she asks.

“Everyone’s too busy to carry me around.”

The girl considers this.

“Do you want to go on my back so I can take you outside?”
> Yes
“Yes, if you don’t mind,” you say.

She stands, scoffing the remaining bits of meat down her throat before gulping down the wine. She walks forward, turning and bending over to allow you to wrap your arms around her shoulders and then lift yourself up enough to wrap your legs around her thighs. She stands with a grunt, grabbing her sword before walking forward and out of the tent. You look up at the quickly falling sun, basking your face in its warmth. The rest of the tribe gives you a quick glance, surprised to see you outside, but go back to work. The girl continues to carry you around, trotting along the tents towards the trees.

“So… do I get to know your name?” you ask.

“It’s Fay,” she replies.

“I’m Karth.”

“What do you dream of? You know, when you sleep?”

“Bad things, mostly. Monsters. Sometimes, I get messages. I see beasts attacking, and I know when the orks will strike. I…”

“Did you know the orks were going to attack my village?” Fay asks, sadness filling her voice.

“I… no. I don’t get messages every time.”

“Oh. OK.”

You arrive at the trees, and you outstretch your arm, running it across the bark of one of the trees. You spot the sun finally descending under the horizon, as the darkness stretches over the sky. Two duller bright lights take its place, but they’re far too weak to give even an ounce of its brightness.

“We should go back,” you say.

“Why?” Fay asks.

“Monsters dwell here at night.”

She pats her sword gently.

“I have a blade. I can easily kill the monsters.”

“Monsters are scary.”

“I can be scary too.”
> You pressure her to go back
“Come on, let’s go back, please,” she says.

“Fine,” she says with a sigh, turning and heading back to the camp.

She goes back inside the camp, putting you back on your blankets.

“Can I sleep in here?” she asks.

“Uh… OK,” you reply, curling up in your blankets.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she says.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

With that, you curl up in your blankets and let sleep take you once more.
> Three Years Later...
Over the next three years, things change, both for you and the world at large. Fay becomes a constant companion, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the other children of the tribe would be happy to play with her and devoting all her time to you. You’re not sure why, but you’re grateful for it. Puberty changes both of you. Fay grows significantly taller, faster and stronger, growing from a small girl to a large and powerful warrior. She stands as tall and proud as the boys of the village, and is more than happy to face them off in a wrestling match, winning all of them. She seems to prefer spending her time hunting with the boys or more often with you than learning the common girl's chores of cooking, sewing and cleaning. You'd imagine soon enough she'll have to find a husband among the hunters.

Thankfully, growth does not leave you behind, although it doesn’t effect you nearly as much. You grow strong enough to be able to stand and stroll around the camp, even taking small trips, although even a light jog for a minute or two is enough to topple you over with exhaustion. Compared to Fay, you're a twig whilst her muscled form is that of an thick tree trunk. Puberty also has a significant change on your abilities. You sleep less, although your dreams are harsher, and there’s more… anger behind them. The monsters seem aware of you know, there voices constantly breaking into reality and continuing to scream and plead with you. You simply refuse to listen, and with training, you can make them become something of a white noise to your day to day activity. Your powers also increase. With the flick of your fingers, you can start a small fire. With a word, you can leave anything, man or beast, confused and befuddled. You can pick things up and throw them with a strength unfound to you, beating out many of the warriors in throwing contests without even moving. The world as a whole changes as well. The amount of Greenskin attacks intensifies, and in response the tribes band together, forming a much larger community to stand against the tide. Your dreams are muddled, but you feel something is coming. The sky, which to the plain eye is beautiful, blue and unchanging, seems about to be torn open in your dreams. Something bad is coming.

You sit in the grass, a tan finally having replaced your pale form, next to Fay as you watch buzzards flying overhead, eating a bowl of Braxen meat.

“It’s a nice day,” Fay says.

“It is,” you say, your dreams from the previous nights still filling you with a feeling of dread.

“You look nervous.”

“Do I?” you ask, feigning confusion.

“As much as you like to think so, I’m not stupid. I can tell something’s up.”
> You tell her the truth
“I’ve been having a lot of nightmares. I think… I think bad things are coming.”

“Really?” Fay asks, getting worried. “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “But it’s bad.”

“Have you told Duggin?”

“He just increased the amount of training warriors are doing. He asked what else he could do, and I didn’t have any better suggestions.”

“You worry too much. You’re not even eating. Your bowl’s full. Speaking of which…”

She plucks the bowl from your hands.

“I’m still hungry!” Fay laughs as she gracefully hops out of reach.

“Oh, no! Whatever shall I do? I’ve been left helpless! What will poor Karth do?” you say sarcastically.

With the wave of your hand, Fay’s feet go from under her and the bowl flies into your hands. You grab a piece of meat and throw it into your mouth with a smile.

“You’re just a bully,” Fay says, fake pouting. “Thank the God-Emperor you were cursed to be a cripple.”

“Hey! I’m not a cripple! I’m just super weak. If we find a tribe of women who aren’t ugly bags with stringy hair, odd scars sand gross teeth, I’ll get super buff. But, we haven’t,” you reply.

Fay looks down, actually looking hurt by your joking comment. Shit.

“Uh… don’t be so insulted, Fay,” you say, gently knocking her to the ground again with the flick of your wrist. “You’re less ugly when you smile. You need to have thicker skin.”

She smiles as she stands back up.

“Me? I need thicker skin? This is coming from the guy who’s always like “I’m scared because I dreamed something bad”!”

“Hey, I’m never wrong. I have a lot of power,” you say, emphasizing your point with another flick of your wrist.

“Stop that!” she complains, hitting the ground. “I don’t even know why I hang out with you.”

“Because of my dashing good looks?”

“Shut up! I’m going down to the lake for a swim!” she says, jumping up and jogging off towards the lake.

You quickly stand up, walking after her.

“Wait up! You know I can’t go that fast!”

Fay rolls her eyes, stopping and grabbing your hand.

“Come on!” she says.

Shit. You hate swimming. It’s mostly just you sitting in the shallow, exhausted from the effort of getting in. Still, you go where she does, and she’s the same. You walk as quickly as you can towards the lake.
> Four Hours Later...
You lie on the grassy edge of the lake, your feet dipping gently in the water, watching as Fay gathers berries, nuts, fruit and whatever other edibles she has access to. You watch her approaching you, carrying a handful of food. You eagerly extend a hand as she hands some to you, and you stuff your cheeks with them, eagerly eating.

“How can someone be so hungry yet be so thin?”

“I suppose I’m just an abomination,” you smile, watching as the water turns gold as the sun shines across it, finally beginning to disappear as night takes hold.

“It was a nice day,” you say. “But we should head back.”

“You’re such a maybe. You’d think a magic man who can kill dozens of orks with one petrified scream would be less of a coward.”

You flick your wrist and she falls over with a yelp.

“Stop doing that!”

“No,” you reply with a smile.

You watch as the bright two moons appear, just as dozens of stars fill the sky.

“Beautiful night,” Fay remarks.

“Yeah. The sky’s looking gorgeous,” you reply.

“You know..." Fay starts.

There’s a howling scream, and the sky is torn apart. You watch as the very fabric of reality is sliced through, tearing a hole in the sky. There’s a bright, purple hole in the sky itself.

“What the fuck is…?” Fay asks, drawing her sword as if with some hope of stopping the horror that is to come.

A headache pulses through you as you try to stand, collapsing back to the floor. In the distance, a massive, black shape leaves the hole, heading straight towards the planet. You stand again, but the shrieking continues, preventing you from thinking, let alone running.

“Karth!” Fay yells, wrapping her hands around you and lifts you up.
> You tell her to go back to camp and warn them
“Go… go back to camp without me. Warn them!”

“I’m not leaving you!”

“Fay, have you fucking seen me? It’s a hell of a lot less dangerous here, I’ll be fine. Go!”

Fay nods, turning and sprinting off towards the camp. You sit there, clutching your head. After about a minute, your head clears enough to realize that there’s no way in hell the camp wouldn’t notice the massive, sky-tearing hole in reality itself, so sending Fay back to warn them is completely useless. Suddenly, you’re hit by another wave of anguish as pain courses through you. Then, the voices return. This time, though, one pierces through, louder than ever before, almost as if someone is whispering directly in your ear.

“Karth… Karth… I can help you… I have so much power… I have so much strength… all of it, I’m happy to offer you…”

You feel the claws of a million voices scratching at your mind. You begin to scratch at your eardrums, hoping, begging the voices to stop. You shudder, and thankfully, oblivion takes you and you lapse into unconsciousness.
> You awaken
You awaken, lying on the grass outside of your camp. Your eyes blink twice, as you begin to look around. Several large, metal buildings sit there in the fields next to the tents. Men holding large spears march around the camp, directing throngs of tribespeople towards the buildings. These spears seem to be capable of firing arrows made of concentrated sunlight. Interesting. You notice several giants, seemingly made of metal, standing on the edge of the camp, watching the work. Suddenly, you find yourself yanked into the air by invisible hands, and float into the air, suspended two four feet above the ground. You watch as a trio of men approach you, smiling. The one on the left is a giant, seemingly made entirely of metal. He stands at around eight feet, with dozens spikes protruding from his metal skin. His body’s black, with a purple head. In the middle, a tall, pale man wearing a long, black leather overcoat, a spiked collar strapped around his neck. The third seems to be a hybrid between a girl and a metal monster, her eyes replaced by the three red, unblinking eyes of a monster, a dozen long, metal arms extending from the nape of her back, three arms ending in claws and one a drill, with her legs replaced by four spider-like legs. Where her human arms would be extends a grasping, whirring claw and a metal barrel, the inside of which glows faintly blue. The middle one walks forward with a smile.

“Hello there, young Karth. Pleasure to see you,” he smiles jovially.

“We don’t have time for pleasantries, psyker,” the metal man says. “Load him onto the ship!

"Give him time to adjust! He's only just waking up," the man, the psyker, says.

One of the long, metal arms attached to the monster-man's back goes towards you, whirring its drill. It cuts along your arm, drawing a long, thin cut as you yelp in pain.

"This one is weak... how pitiful," the monster-man says. "It's pain tolerance is low, but I can work with it."

"I want to use his mind, not his flesh," the psyker says. "My name is Kyros. The burly armored man to my right is Chapter Master Taj Suenage, and the robotic companion to my left is the Heretek known as the Craftsman of Vorn, the Butcher of Karis IV and the Father to the Prometheans. Her name is Magos Cern. We are the Forces of Chaos."

The monster-man extends one of her metal tentacle arms once more, tracing the outline of your cheek bones.

"Bah! Time wastes! Either give me the surge of the warp overtaking me, or give me the surge of battle, Kyros!" Taj roars, smacking a metal hand against his chest.

"As you wish, Taj," the Psyker says.

The Psyker claps his hands, and his various forces begin forcing the last of the tribespeople inside the building, as those who litter the floor, those who presumably tried to resist, are carried there.

"Are they dead?"

"Some, presumably. I gave the order to keep as many alive as possible," Kyros says.

You see Fay's battered and bruised body being tossed over a metal giant's shoulder as she's carried off towards the building.

"No! Give her back!" you shout.

"She fought well. When my men entered this pathetic village, she was trying to warn them. She even tried to fight them off. Killed one of the dumber ones who tried to call her bluff. Commendable."

You furrow your brow, and the Psyker grins as Taj's head is knocked slightly back, before presuming position. Despite how little you've harmed him, the metal giant seems enraged.

"You scum-sucking sociopathic cunt!" Taj roars, charging forward.

Taj is flipped into the air, being suspended just out of reach of you. His metal fists swing at you, but he's kept out of grasp.

"Tut tut. Stay your anger, my dear Taj. Karth, I'll make you a deal. Do as I say, and the girl will be unharmed. Deal?
> You agree
"OK. Just don't hurt her," you say.

You drop, hitting the floor quite gently. Kyros grins and gives you a nod.

"Good boy. I'll make sure special care is taken of the girl."k

"Ha! I'll give your bitch whore "special care"!" Taj roars, still grabbing at you.

Kyros rolls her eyes, flipping Taj into the dust.

"Quiet now, marine," he says. "I have a gift to sate your bloodlust. Bring out the chieftain!"

You watch as Duggin is dragged form his tent, growling and yelling. A large cut goes down his chest, blood having soaked his armor, turning it a deep crimson that shines in the sun.

"Come on, finish me!" he roars.

"I don't want to see my men die, Karth. I gave your chieftain the option to surrender, give me his finest warriors... and you, of course, and I'd spare his civilians. He refused, killed some of my men, had his warriors killed and now I have to take you all. Now, he will die. This is what happens when people mess with my plans, Karth."

Taj drops to the ground, turning to stare at Duggin with a monstrous laugh.

"Fortunately, Karth, I won't make you watch. You have agreed, haven't you?" Kyros says with a wink.

You're released to the ground, and Kyros and Magos Cern walk alongside you towards the metal buildings. You walk inside, and the doors shut. A bright red light, like a very powerful candle, appears out of nothingness, brightening the room. The tribespeople are packed in here, surrounded by a tight bundle of guards with spears raised.

"What happens here? There's no space to do anything," you say.

"It's a landing craft, little one. Now, we soar to the stars," Kyros says.

You see several feet away from you is Fay's crumpled form and feel a twinge of pain. You sit down in the metal building as it begins to shake and shudder as if moving, terrified of the world around you.
> Four Hours Later...
The trip is long. The landing craft constantly shakes and shudders, and quickly fills with the smell of puke as the stomachs of many of the men and women around you as they fail to handle the constant shaking. You sit there, unmoving, staring up at the guards. Finally, the ship shudders to a stop.

"Good! We're here!" Kyros says. "Welcome to the Roar of the Vortex! Please file out and follow the guards towards your cells."

"What are you going to do with us?" someone asks.

"I'm going to make you matter in a galaxy that stands for no one," Kyros says proudly.

The people begin being shuffled off the landing raft, and you find yourself in a massive metal room. You look out a massive opening, filled with similar craft. You look around, before a metal hand grabs your shoulder.

"Stay," Taj growls. "You're not to be mixed in with these common curs."

"What's going to happen to them?" you ask.

"Some will live. Most will die. All will suffer," Taj says.

"What... what are you?"

"A space marine, boy," Taj says.

He grabs his head, twisting it. His metal head is yanked off, revealing a scarred human head underneath.

"You're a human."

"Practically. Did you think I was metal through and through?" Taj asks.

"Yes."

"It's armor, boy," Taj says. "I don't have time to explain shit to you."

Kyros marches out, raising you into the air.

"Come on, boy. Let's go!" Kyros says eagerly, walking along the ship.

You float after him, being dragged through the air, unable to resist. After a few minutes, you fall to your knees in front of a metal door.

"I've asked what's going to happen to us. You still haven't given me an answer," you say.

"You've found yourself in a war, little one. Your planet is worth jack shit. Everything you know doesn't matter. This war encompasses the galaxy.Systems burn, billions die, the fate of trillions is fought for."

"War? Whose fighting?" you ask.

"Everyone. The world has monsters so powerful that they'd wipe out every warrior in all your tribes in an instant. There's the Tyranids, a horrible bug hive-mind with nothing but a need to eat. There's the Necrons, an ancient of soulless machines that have only just began to awaken. There's the Orks, a warring species of monsters, the Eldar, an enigmatic species just as likely to help as hinder you, Then, you have the worst villains. The Imperium of Man. They're freedom-crushing, innovation-stopping, potential-destroying fascists who enslave trillions and worship a corpse. We stand against them. We serve the Dark Gods. Khorne the Warrior God, Tzeentch the Sorcery God, Slaaneesh the Pleasure God and Nurgle the Plague God. We fight to free ourselves from tyranny, to make sure every man is free. We offer gifts of strength, knowledge, joy and immortality, yet the Imperium spurns us. So we rebelled. We are the Forces of Chaos, who fight back against tyranny! Praise Chaos in all it's glory!"

"I'm still waiting for an answer," you say.

"We're going to turn you into super-soldiers. Magos Cern has long worked on the process. We're going to make you greater than Space Marines. You hold the most potential. Cern can play with their flesh and Taj can train them, but I offer the greatest gift: Ultimate power. You're gifted, Karth. I want to use that gift to make you one of the most powerful beings known to man."

You stare at him nervously. You're not an idiot. People don't just create powerful soldiers without having a chain around them. You watch as Kyros takes a steel, studded collar and walks towards you. He wraps it around your throat, clicking it into place.

"Is that comfortable?" Kyros asks.

"I suppose," you see, scratching at the collar.

"At any moment, I can shut down your powers and strangle the very air out of your throat. So play nice."

Kyros picks you up again with a flick of the wrist and you float upwards. Kyros carries you through the air, stopping at another door. It opens with being touched, and Kyros drops you inside it.

"This is your cell. I've made it... comfortable. In return, you best be... compliant I need to... check on some things. Wait here for the time being," Kyros says, sealing the door behind you."

You stand up, looking around the room. There's a bed there, a small hole in the floor the size of a baby's head, a shelf and a small glass box with a lever inside.
> You investigate the hole
You walk over to the hole, and look down it. Nothing but blackness. You put your ear against it, but no noise comes out. Finally, you put your arm down it, up to the shoulder. There's a gunk coating it further down, but you can't make out what it is by touch. You lift out your arm, only to find it caked with dried shit.

"Fuck," you complain, as the smell just begins to hit you.
> You investigate the box
You walk over to the box, entering it. You press down on the lever, and nothing happens. You pull it, and suddenly you're hit by a burst of water. You look up, and it's like lashing rain has formed right above you. This has the added benefit of washing off the shit that cakes your arm. You quickly turn it off, avoiding getting too soaked.
> You lie on the bed and wait
You collapse onto the bed, closing your eyes. Almost immediately, the voice begins.

"Karth... Karth..." the voice calls. "I have so much to offer you... you're a prisoner here, Karth. These men are going to break you, child. Only I can help you... just give me time..." the horrible voices stops, and reality fades back into reality.

The voices thankfully subside, and you're granted a short break of blissful sleep. Unfortunately, this is broken by the door opening. You look up to see Kyros standing there.

"Karth, it's time for your... augmentation," he says cheerfully.

"What's going to happen?" you ask fearfully.

"Magos Cern and the Chapter Master want to create super-soldiers. They're aiming so low they could hit themselves in the foot. I want to create something... excuse me, someone of immense power. Your mind will be a thousand times sharper than any blade. You will be a Psyker feared by the entire Imperium."

"Let's say you make me extremely powerful. Then what? How do you keep me under your control?" you ask.

"Karth, you're my prisoner, but I don't think you need to be for long. I want you to join me. We figtht for freedom, for power, for glory! We'll crush the dying Imperium, and lead mankind  towards a new dawn. Can't you see that that's a strong goal? Can't you see that that's something to join us to fight for?"
> You say "I agree. They're commendable ideals."
"I'm glad to hear it. I'm sorry to say you'll still have to remain my prisoner for the time being, but I'm sure the crew will come to trust you quickly enough."

You arrive in a large room, filled with dozens of large, see-through tubes. You glance at them, take a deep breath, and get sick all over the glass while falling to your knees.

"Ah, yes... you best not look at these," Kyros says, flicking his finger to pick you up again.

Inside the tube, submersed in a thick, viscous liquid, are your tribespeople. They're completely naked, with long tubes having been forced down their throat. Dozens of needles have been forced into their arms, backs and necks, pumping strange liquids into them.

"What the fuck are you doing to them?" you ask.

"Making them super-soldiers. We've been through this," Kyros says absent-mindedly.

"I thought you'd be training them!"

"After we change them. If you think the nutrients and drug treatment is bad, wait until we start using the Geneseed. At least they'll all survive this bit."
> You look around for Fay
You look around, noticing Fay floating in a tube.

"Let her out!" you say, tears welling in your eyes as you watch her body convulse as chemicals and nutrients flood into it.

"No. She needs to become strong if she wishes to survive here."

"She's one of our best warriors! She trains everyday!"

"I don't particularly care whose the best warrior of some shithole tribe on some shithole planet! We'll be fighting super, cybernetic orks, super-soldiers the likes of Taj, ancient, psychic warriors and never-ending waves of bug warriors. Your sister could be torn apart in seconds by even the weakest of threats."

"She's not my sister," you say, putting your hand against the glass.

"Really? Wife, then? I've seen cultures with younger marriage ages, but they're not the norm."

"We're not married, we're just friends," you say sadly, as you're carried into the air once more and dragged along Kyros.

"Ah, I see. Your society isn't patriarchal enough that you can just demand she has sex with you. Unreciprocated love, what a pity," Kyros laughs.

"It's not... let her go!" you shout.

The collar tugs tightly around your throat, taking the breath away from you. You choke and gasp for several seconds, before it releases, allowing you to take a breath.

"Quiet now."

You continue on, arriving at a thick, metal door.

"Here we are," Kyros says with a smile.

The metal doors slide open, revealing a large, empty chamber. Magos Cern stands in the center, her head twisting around to reveal her glowing red eyes, piercing your soul.

"Is the chamber complete?" Kyros asks. "Have you succeeded?"

Magos Cern stares at you.

"Well?" Kyros asks again.

"Don't question my work, Kyros. If something goes wrong, it's because you're an idiot trying to harness the magical energies of the warp while using a flesh battery."

"I have a name, you know," you point out.

Magos Cern walks out of the room, the mechanical part of her body whirring.

"What is she?" you ask. "Is she even a "she"?"

"Imagine a simple human girl. Useless. Unknown. Weak. We all want to be strong. She scorns are use of the Warp, but she's happy to replace most of her body with machinery."

"Machinery?"

"She... adds metal shielding, important tools, new robotic arms... that kind of thing. Are you ready to start the procedure?"

"Do I have a choice?" you ask.

"Not in the slightest, but if you have any questions, you might as well ask them."
> You ask questions about the Warp
"What's the Warp?"

"Imagine an alternate dimension, of pure Chaos and emotion. It's known as the Warp. We are in a galaxy teeming with life. These lives all mean that there are trillions of bright, powerful souls. The powers of the Warp can easily be reaped here. By passing through it, we're able to travel hundreds of light years with ease. Through manifesting and manipulating the Warp, some of us, Psykers, can use it's powers like you and I do."

"We use the powers of the Warp for our magic?"

"Yes, yes. Here, in the warp, are powerful and ancient creatures such as the Dark Gods and their daemons. There's Khorne, who has been born out of the galaxy's never-ending combat, representing courage, strength, blood-thirst, honor and most importantly, rage. There's Tzeentch, who has been born out of scheming and plotting. He represents sorcery and the use of magic, scheming, plotting, hope and change. There's Nurgle, the plague god. He represents sickness, decay, rot, plague, defeat and in a strange way, life and acceptance. Finally there's Slaaneesh, who represents self-indulgence, passion, love and pleasure. These are the four greatest Dark Gods, and it is to them I pledge my life. In exchange, they give me gifts to enhance my dark powers and give me the strength to fight for what's right."
> You ask questions about the procedure
"What's going to happen to me?"

"Your body is frail, weak, useless, because that's not where your strength comes from. Look at the finest warriors in your village. Their strength comes from the pathetic vessels their souls use. Your body could be upgraded, and we could make you as strong as someone like Taj with enough work, but what would be the point? It would be like adding a simple rifle bayonet to the heavy macro cannon of a starship. Now, I'm going to refine your abilities."

"You haven't told me what you're going to do," you point out.

"Well, this could be quite unpleasant. We're going to pump the chamber ful of Psychic energies and enhance your abilities," Kyros says.

"Is that going to work?" you ask.

"Probably," Kyros shrugs, flashing a devilish grin. "What I expect is a forced evolution of your mind to a much stronger state. It'll skip directly to the height of your psychic maturity, and then several levels past that. It requires a powerful Psyker who's still growing as a psyker with a lot of potential to succeed, but I'm certain you'll be able to survive it. Good luck."
> You start the procedure
"Alright, I'm ready," you say with a grimace.

"Good. Now, it is important to know that this chamber is going to flood with psychic energy. If you feel your a few outer layers of your skin begin to burn off, you'll be find. It's quite likely that as the connections to the Warp that are built up and a portal is built up, daemons could attempt to manifest in the chamber. These are beings that are built on fear. You might see them, but they can't hurt you unless you react to in fear. They'll be able to cease on the presence of your fear and* fully manifest, and then they'll definitely be able to hurt you."

"So they can't hurt me if I don't react to them?"

"Well... if this goes well, they won't be able to harm you if you don't show fear. If it goes wrong in some way and if they can harm you, being scared what change anything and you'll be slaughtered like a lamb either way won't do anything. So don't get scared, and don't react in anyway."

Kyros steps backwards, outside of the chamber, as four massive giant men wearing the metal armor just like Chapter Master Taj, wearing black armor with purple helmets. Severed Ork heads hang from around their heads, seemingly quite fresh, while they hold in their hands massive Bolters, which as you've learned from the chitchat between guards aboard the landing craft, spit huge bits of flaming metal with amazing speed. They're either here to keep you in... or to keep whatever ends up in this chamber if something goes wrong. The doors close, sealing you in there. Shit. You're definitely going to die in this chamber.

"Shit!" you say loudly, you voice echoing off the walls of the circular chamber.

The chamber begins to hum, as the entire room begins shaking. The walls course with psychic energy. You hear a thousand energetic voices begin to chatter endlessly in your mind. One voice is loud and strong above the others.

"Karth..." the now familiar voice calls. "...feel the power reverberate through your soul... I knew I was right to target you."

"Who the fuck are you?" you whimper.

You feel your body shudder, as your mind stretches. You feel sharp bursts of emotion. A deep, powerful rage at the slaughter and enslavement of your people. How dare those fucks kill your allies, kidnap your people and do these things? What gives them the right?! This rage is quickly replaced by a burst of joyous bliss, as an immense pleasure floods through your body, and you shudder in ecstasy. This is replaced by a deep sadness, as you realize that your entire tribe, your entire planet, all of the heroes of lore that you looked up to, meant nothing. Your world, as the Chaos lords said, is infinitesimally small and worthless compared to the rest of the galaxy.

"I am a friend, Karth. An ally. A daemon with unimaginable power which I'm willing to offer you. My name is Meliodas. I want you to survive this... I'm your friend... I know the powers flooding into you like you know the air you breath. Just ignore the chattering... ah, look... they're arrived. Try not to react..."

You watch as the air courses, pulsing with solid, permanent beat. You see the air morph and flex with energy, as colored energy begins to manifest and coagulate. You see a morphing shape appear, a humanoid, red shape standing on black claws with a long, spiked head with two black horns. In it's hand is a long, flaming sword. It's skin the same as a burning coal sitting in the center of flames, veins of molten blood coursing through it. It looks at you and lets out an angry, guttural hiss. It slowly walks over to you, as it's blade crackles with heat. You feel your headache worsen ten times over, as the inside of your mind is scratched and hacked apart from the inside. The daemon raises a burning sword high into the air, before swinging towards your neck.
> You do nothing
You close your eyes to take in a deep breath, calming your mind slightly. You can feel your very consciousness shaking, and let out a shudder, opening your eyes. The daemon is gone, leaving you alone in the room. Electricity cackles along the wall, lightning running across you and wrapping around your very being. You feel a massive, terrible psychic scream reverberating deep in your mind, across every facet of your soul. You drop to your knees, as an unimaginable pain fills you. You let out a horrified scream from deep in your lungs, deep in your mind and deep in your soul. The room explodes, setting alight with multicolored flames which race along the walls, with flashes of lightning appearing and disappearing like snowflakes on wet stone. You collapse forward, onto the ground, as the room begins to cool down, but this only speeds up your fall into the void.
> You enter the Void...
You hear screaming. You look up, to find yourself falling through an endless void. You look at your body, starring in abject horror as it blisters, boils, sores and rashes cover you puke, releasing a torrent of vomit, blood and bile, as your flesh begins to decay, rotting in front of you.

"Karth!" a voice screams, bringing you back to reality.

You open your eyes, finding yourself lying in the chamber. The four Space Marines stand over you, massive figures wearing thick-plated armor, next to Kyros.

"We should kill the Psyker. He's probably possessed, or corrupted beyond sanity," one says, not noticing you waking up.

"You can try, but I'll bind your souls to a fucking Soul Grinder! I'll make a flaying seem like the greatest ecstasies Slaanesh has to offer!" Kyros roars. "If that cunt has failed and died from this, I'll toss his entire tribe to the mutants to be flayed, the dogs to be mauled and the men to be fucked! I'll burn the fucking...!"

Kyros notices you, and his hate-filled expression changes to a friendly, cheerful one.

"Ah, Karth, you've survived! Terrific!" he says, gripping your hand and shaking your hand eagerly. "Congratulations on your survival!"

"Yeah... I did," you say, rubbing your head.

"Ah, I've found... residence," Meliodas says from deep in your mind. "Your mind has grown powerfully. I know you had potential."

Magos Cern walks into the room, starring at you with her cold eyes. She raises a pincer, quickly tearing off a stretch of skin from your arm. You yelp in pain and surprise as the skin is pealed away. She stares at it, scanning it with your mechanical eyes, before looking back at you.

"Light signs of Warp mutation. Should be cleared with a round of decontamination therapy," she says.

"How fares his mind? Did it work?" Taj growls, marching inside.

"I'll probe your consciousness, see how much I've succeeded, shall I?" Kyros says.

"My head hurts," you complain, as you feel a pounding headache hit.

"Oh yes, that's normal," Kyros says.

"I thought you've never done this before. How do you know the aftermath of it leads to headaches?" you ask.

"Oh no, I mean if you're as powerful a psyker as I expect you to be, you'll be suffering from constant headaches, and that's when you're at your best," Kyros says, shrugging.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me that earlier?" you say.

"You're a slave, Karth. Remember that when you speak back to me, or you'll become familiar with the lash," Kyros says, his cheerful, friendly demeanor dropping for a second, before he smiles once more. "Now, shall we begin the probing? You'll feel a sharp sensation. Just ignore it."

You nod your head slowly, before you feel something akin to an ice-cold blade slowly being forced into your consciousness. You shudder, but try not to tense up or resist in anyway.

"Hmmm... it's strong. Very strong. I've done well here. Thank the Dark Gods I installed that collar before I put you in the chamber," Kyros says, smiling as the collar tightens slightly around your throat. "These space marines will act as your personal bodyguard."

"He's the prisoner, we're the guards. Don't let him think any different," one of the Space Marines says, as Kyros hands him a long chain which the space marine wraps around his fist.

"That'll control his collar, marine. Use it to throttle the life out of him if he gets uppity."

"Yes, sir," one of the space marines responds.

You can practically feel the super-soldier maliciously grinning through his helmet.

"Now, let's take our newly evolved friend to the training pit," Kyros smiles. "Test out his new abilities."
> You an Hour Later...
You sit in the middle of a large, Colosseum-type building. Kyros stands in a booth up above you all, next to Magos Cern and Taj Suenage. All around the seating area are the various men of the ship, crewmen, soldiers and the favored slaves. In four side of the circular arena are metal gates, where your foes will be released from. You question the insanity of building a fighting arena aboard a spaceship with very limited space, but then again, you're not in charge.

"Alright, Karth, the rules are simple. No attacking the audience. There is a protective shield keeping you guys in there from damaging the crowd or, Dark Gods forbid, me. Also, if you try, we're more than happy to strangle the life out of your, break your body and bind your soul to a Soul Grinder," Kyros shouts. "Now, let's begin. Leave none alive!"

The first gate opens, and you freeze as you see a group of a dozen shambling mutant abominations walking forward. You can tell they were once human, but now you can barely tell. Tentacles, extra limbs, massive tumors, animal parts and much worse. There's barely a human intelligence left behind their eyes, replaced by an animal-like instinct. They shamble towards you, roaring, howling, screeching, shouting, hissing and letting out whatever bursts of noise they can.
> You fire psychic bolts of energy
You fire a bolt of purple energy, striking down the largest whose head explodes. You flick your wrist again, burning the hair off a howling beastman. A mutant is struck in the face by another bolt, and by now they're confused and scared, attempting to flee back to the gate they came through which has now closed shut. Needless to say, it doesn't take much more to fully finish off the mutant pack, leaving them all dead.

"Alright!" Kyros yells cheerfully. "Now, anyone can strike down some animalistic mutants. Now, let's see how the gladiator-slaves fare!"

You watch as another gate opens, and half a dozen semi-armored humans walk out, holding swords, spears, halbeards, axes and all hold shields. Thankfully, they've no long-range weapons, so you have a fairly good chance. With that, they begin to advance. They're in a solid formation, bundled together to stop you from picking them off one, shields raised in an attempt to mimic a shelled creature.
> You fire a burst of flames at them
You raise your hand, firing a stream of fire that manifests in your palm and gushes out towards your foes. They raise their shields, but the fire easily surpasses them, going past the shield and searing flesh, burning hair and melting bone. There's a burst of screams and howls of pain that quickly fizzle out, leaving a mass of ash, burning flesh and melted armor and weapons.

"Alright, alright!" Kyros yells. "Let's see him fight some real, blooded warriors. May I introduce the last known members of the Pandemian 501st Regiment!"

The third gate opens, and ten men wearing combat armor, gas masks and holding lasguns with bayonets march forward in unison, before raising their weapons to fire. You need to react quickly.
> You teleport behind the enemy
You close your eyes, opening them once more and finding yourself less than a step behind the soldiers, who look around, confused, not noticing you. Time to strike.
> You send a fireball hurtling towards your enemy
You fire a massive, burning fireball directly at the guardsmen. Unfortunately, you over-estimated the distance between the two of you. The guardsman is engulfed in a fiery explosion, but unfortunately you are as well, your skin turning to ash and your bones quickly melting, your soul expiring shortly after.


You close your eyes, opening them once more and finding yourself less than a step behind the soldiers, who look around, confused, not noticing you. Time to strike.
> You charge them with psychically-enhanced fists
You charge forward, as psychic energy floods into your fists. You grab one, yanking her head off and flinging it with all your psychic strength at another. You grab a lasgun, breaking someone's neck and beheading two more with the bayonet. The guardsmen panic, falling over each other to escape, but you don't give up, finishing the rest of them with relative ease.

"Alright, he's shed some blood. Perhaps we should give him a break," Kyros says, before laughing cheerfully. "Or perhaps... we should give him a real challenge. Bring out the Champion of Davial!"

The final gate, the one behind you, opens. You spin around on the balls of your feet, prepared to kill, even through you're exhausted. You can here your psychic defenses begin to falter as the voices come back, thousands of voices screaming, laughing and howling in your mind. Physically, you're tired from this heavy exercise, and just want to pass out. You watch in terror as a massive figure clad in huge plates of armor walks forward. Two sharpened tusks come out from his helmet, and in one hand he holds a massive warhammer, while in the other, attached to his arm, is a bolter. By either side of the massive Champion is a nearly naked slave wearing rags, trying to polish the armor while the Champion of Davial continues walking forward.

"Begin!" Kyros shouts.

Suddenly, you hear another familiar voice.

"Hello, my dear Karth. I see you're outgunned here. Need some help?" Meliodas asks.

The Champion raises his bolter and it fires. You quickly form a shield, barely absorbing the massive amount of power behind the bolter.

"I can help you, but you're going to need to get your hands dirty. See those two slaves? Go for them. Boil their bloods with your mind, and help draw the psychic beings that are trying to enter."

"What?" you ask aloud, teleporting out of the way of another burst of bolter fire as the Champion of Davial continues to advance.

"Kill the slaves. I'll offer their souls as a... summoning gift to two potential allies for you."

This presents a moral dilemma. Can you wipe out the two slaves in order to win this battle? Can you even trust Meliodas? You do have other options. Through teleportation and levitation, you can easily evade the Champion, and you can wait to tire him out. You can attempt to wear down the Champion's armor through fire and psychic bolts. You can also attempt to teleport atop the Champion and try use your psychic powers to tear this bastard's head off.
> You kill the slaves for Meliodas
You nod, raising your hands and directing a blast of powerful psychic flames towards both slaves. The slaves are hit by the stream of fire and engulfed entirely, their existence ending with a powerful scream. The fire engulfs them, but while the bodies falls apart to ash, two new shapes appear in the fire. You watch, as from the engulfing flames step two daemons. They're humanoid, half beautiful women and half horrifying crab-monster. Their face are stretched and gaunt, like once beautiful women whose faces melted, with long black hair, pale skin changing to black shell in patches over their bodies and a massive claw having replaced their right arm. They eagerly turn to the Champion of Delial, charging forward. They bounce, picing and attacking and cutting through metal with their powers. You fire a stream of fire at the Champion's armored head as the two daemons repeatedly pince and cut at his head and chest. He fights valiantly, but he doesn't last long fighting two powerful daemons and a psyker. He falls to his knees, before collapsing onto his face. The space marine guards begin sending bolter fire down at the daemons, who quickly with under the fire before collapsing back into the flames, disappearing, leaving you in an arena, empty except for the corpses of your enemies.

"Well," Kyros says. "That was interesting. I didn't expect daemon summoning to be in your inventory. None the less, well done."

Kyros levitates down towards you as the shield evaporates, before ending up less than two or three feet above you.

"Well done, noble warrior! Look and behold the powers of the Warp!" he says, in the opening of a speech.
> You kill Kyros
You take a deep breath, preparing all of your reserves of psychic energy. Quickly, you manifest it in your most powerful bolt yet, before firing straight at Kyros. The energy drained from you, you collapse to your knees. You feel your collar flex, beginning to choke you.

"Ha! You have balls, my little ally! I love it!" Meliodas cries.

Kyros rises up quickly and brings the shields up full force, and they explode, barely managing to contain your psychic power. Kyros watches as the collar chokes the last ounce of psychic power from you, dropping down to his previous height with an enraged snarl.

"Is that how you want to play this, you little cunt?" he snarls.

You search your mind, but your entire psychic reserve is gone. You can't even make a spark. You do have a ounce of physical strength yet, before you collapse from exhaustion, and you intend to use it.

The entire audience of slaves, mutants, soldiers and thousand-year old warriors watches as you arch your head back and spit in Kyros face, before collapsing.
> The Familiar Oblivion...
After going through another sparse of evil dreams and horrifying nightmares, including getting chased by tentacle abominations through tunnels, watching your tribe being flayed alive by men infested by worms and covered in a solid sheet of pus and staring into the eyes of beings of pure, unending hate, you awaken in a small room. You're lying on a metal table, completely naked, while Magos Cern stands nearby, drilling holes through a large blob of meat on another table.

"Ah, the good Techpriest is looking after you. You'd have been safer if they tossed you in a pit of deathworms," Meliodas says.
> You speak up
"Hello?" you say.

"Ah, look whose woken up," she says, her head swiveling around mechanically to stare at you

"What happened?"

"You passed out from fatigue. I brought you here, left you to sleep for a while, injected you with a few shots of adrenaline, gave you a full cleansing of your blood and burned off a few layers of your skin to remove all Chaos taint."

She emits a long burst of static energy, before staring at you.

"Kyros has been informed of your awakening. He'll be here shortly."

Magos Cern immediately goes back to working on the chunk of meat, clearly not in the mood to converse. After a few minutes, Kyros enters, covered in blood. He seems quite calmer then before.

"Ah, look who it is, the traitorous bastard."

"You invaded my world, burned my villag, killed half my tribe and enslaved the other half. What did you expect?" you say.

"I suppose. I just assumed you were intelligent enough to know that that would never work, or even a little grateful at the fact that I had given you the gifts of power.

"It's quite hard to use the gift of power while bound by chains."

"Perhaps," Kyros says. "You're to be escorted back to your cell. Let's go."

Your four guards enter, as stern as ever, and you stand, following them along the halls.
> A Week Later...
The week goes by. Your guards give you no chance to even think about escape, let alone actually making an attempt at it. You practice fighting in the arena everyday, facing hordes of mutants, failed attempts at creating super-soldiers, thankfully none of them from your tribe and a few slaves thrown in there for you to kill. Kyros is prone to sending out enemies that can cause painful wounds such as those that utilize painful poisons and toxins. It seems he's still bitter about the fact you tried to murder him. Understandable. After that, you have meditation, to calm the storms of your mind and give you a chance to keep the demons, and more literally daemons, at bay.

You spend time with Kyros as he attempts to indoctrinate you to serve him willingly, although after your attempt at his life this time mainly serves as a time to check on the wards for your collar and make sure you haven't circumvented them. You give him the idea that you're buying it, but you know he's just a madman. His ultimate goal seems to be regrouping with several other Chaos war-bands of various sizes to topple the Imperium of Man and take Terra, although the whisperings from other men tell you that that is an impossible goal.You're still not allowed to see Fay or anyone else com your tribe. You shudder at the thoughts of what Kyros is doing with them. For all his friendly gestures, kind deeds and grand ideals and plans, Kyros is but a corrupted mad man who is willing to sacrifice anyone and everyone in an attempt to gain power.

Under the Magos' orders, you've spent a lot of time sleeping from either the fatigue of constant fighting and training to expand your mind and permanently trying to ward off the daemons that scratch at your mind, or from various drugs and chems to put you under. Sleeping is painful, for the most part. You get a few brief bit of oblivion, which is a peace incomparable to anything you've ever had to deal with, but these states still being you deeper into your mind and the theWarp. Then the nightmares start. In the waking world, you have classes with the teachers. Kyros teaches you meditation techniques for controlling your powers as well as new ways to utilise the psychic energy flowing through your mind. Taj teaches you military tactics and how to lead everything from a small unit of hardened men to a massive army of garrisoned troops. Magos Cern teaches you a bit about mechanics, the various technologies of the galaxy and gives you a broad, general education about the galaxy and its inhabitants.

One day, you lie in bed, having emerged from the state of horrified dreaming but not yet having fully awoken, in a blissful, thoughtless state. The door opens, as two of your space marine guards enter. One uses a small device to make your collar tighten quickly before releasing again, a small threat to make sure you know whose boss. The fucking collar. You could turn him into a thick pink mist inside that armor if the collar wasn't stifling your abilities.

"What?" you ask, annoyed to have been disturbed from your bliss.

"Kyros wants you," one says.

"What does he want?"

Kyros appears in the room, leaning against the doorway, seemingly manifested out of thin air.

"Come on, let's go," he says nonchalantly, picking his nails.

"Where?" you ask.

"Well, as a... reward for your long week of work, I have a surprise. We're going to go see Fay."

"Really?" you ask.

A surge of emotions rising up inside you. Joy at the thought of seeing your friend, surprise at Kyros' kindness, gratitude for the gift, fear at what could've happened Fay, all these manifest into an overwhelming feeling of both exhilaration and dread.

"Well? Let's go!" Kyros says, walking out of the room.
> You follow Kyros
You stand, walking along after Kyros. You're at a point where your psychic growth has overtaken your physical growth to such a degree that it'd be easier to float along the ground rather than actually having to walk. Unfortunately, the collar prevents you from even firing out some sparks without Kyros' permission. You arrive in a metal door, which opens, revealing the booth from which Kyros and the others watch down at the fight. You walk along, looking down at the arena, which is empty.

"I thought you were bringing me to see Fay," you say nervously, despite knowing what this is.

"I brought you to see her fight!" Kyros says with a smile.

You stare down, as one of the gates opens. You watch as an abomination stumbles out. Stumbling on four insect-like legs, with it's eft arm replaced by a long tentacle of coiled pink muscle, the very end of it studded with bone outgrowths to make it a more formidable weapon. In it's right hand is a short, rusted axe stained with blood and gore. It's head is monstrous, with an oversized mouth filled to the brim with teeth, overflowing with acid that drips onto it's chest with a sizzle, and a single, blood-shot eye. The creature looks up at you, it's eye flinching, before it lets out a miserable howl.

"Shit... that looks miserable beyond belief," you say.

"Yes, she does," Kyros says, grinning from ear to ear as half a dozen more beasts just like the first walk, stumble or crawl into the center of the arena.

"She?" you ask.

Now that you're not fighting them, you can have a long look and see what these mutant abominations really are: disgusting, pitiful creatures that should receive a quick death.

"You don't recognize her?" Kyros says, clearly suppressing laughter. "This is what remains of the Uwais Tribe, and the first one to come out, the pack leader, is Fay."

You look at monsters underneath, trying to see any resemblance to your friends as pure horror overtakes your mind. You collapse to your knees, puking over the banister and onto the monsters underneath as Kyros bursts into laughter.

"He's done this to provoke you. He wants to get you angry, to see how powerful you are even with the collar. He's under-exaggerating how powerful you are, so you might be able to harm him, but..." Meliodas advises, but you don't pay any attention, too filled with anger.

You stand, holding onto the banister to pull yourself up. Your knees shake, but you take a moment to regain your strength. Then, you launch yourself at Kyros. You grab at his eyes, your fingers going straight for his eyes. Kyros stumbles backwards, unprepared, before you feel your collar quickly tightening as you start to choke. You continue to scratch and gouge, even as the air is choked from you. Finally, you're dragged upwards by invisible hands, floating a few feet away from Kyros. Your weak body has done practically no damage to Kyros, who seems surprised and a bit amused rather than angry.

"Hmmm... I under-exaggerated how angry you'd get, or how stupid you are if you think trying to fight me is an option."

"I'm going to kill you. I'm going to break you. I don't care how long it takes, I will destroy your very soul," you say, staring at him.

Kyros chuckles softly, before forcing you around to stare down at the arena.

"Watch the match," he says.

"We will have our revenge, Karth. Not today, not tomorrow, but we will have our revenge, " Meliodas says.

You watch for about a minute as the abominations sit there, wandering around in confusion, falling to brief bursts of violence and self-harm and a lot of screaming and howling. Finally, the second gate opens. You watch as hooded figures enter, holding swords and small, circular shields. The trio charges forward, diving into the air. The beasts charge forward, attacking with fierce brutality. You watch as the lead one, the thing that used to be Fay, is almost beheaded by one of the trio. The trio fight with ease, diving, ducking and weaving out of the way of tentacles, axes, biting and stomping. Within a minute, the last of the abominations stumble forward and hits the ground as its front two legs are hacked off, and one of the trio leaps on top of the monster and impales it through the head.

"What a display!" Kyros says with a smile. "Shall we see the victors?"

Before you can say a word, Kyros releases you and you fall through the air, smacking into the dirt with a pained yelp. You moan in pain, looking up at the fighters. They walk forward, staring at you.

"Karth?" one of them asks.

You look up to see Fay standing there, her hooded robes covered in blood, alongside two other Uwais tribals you vaguely remember from your trips accompanying hunting parties, the Jakar Twins.

"Fay," you reply, staring back at her, not knowing what else to say.

Fay tosses her sword aside, grabbing you and embracing you tightly. Even though you feel yourself being turned into a fine powder from the strength of her hug, you're just so happy that you've found her that you don't care, hugging back. Kyros drops down, staring at you from over Fay's shoulder, as Magos Cern joins you.

"Ah, what a happy reunion!" Kyros says.

"You said she was dead!" you shout angrily, pushing Fay aside to point an accusatory finger at him.

"I did. I lied," Kyros says, smiling.

"Never trust a psyker, Karth. Not even yourself," Meliodas says.

You shrug it off, trying not to bow to his attempts at emotional manipulation. You grab Fay, looking at her properly as she takes off her hooded cloak. She's tall, standing over six foot tall, and she's a lot more muscular than you remember. Whatever Kyros has done to her, it's had a serious affect. Her arms and legs are quite muscled, and you doubt you could find an ounce of fat anywhere on her. Still, she has the same coy smile, the wild, adventurous look in her eyes, She's pretty much the same Fay.

"So... what's with the hood?" you ask, struggling to find anything else to say.

"Um... it's so the mutants can't grab my hair and drag me down, Karth. Was that the most important question? How are you? What are they doing to you?"

"Come on, out of the arena. I have a captured Squig the boys want to have some fun fighting," Kyros says. "Jakar twins, back to the dorm. Karth, Fay, follow me."

You look at Fay, before grabbing her hand and walking after Kyros and Magos Cern.

"Hmm, walking alongside me with my hand held? Where's the old Karth that I would piggyback around the village?" Fay asks.

"Pffh, if I didn't have this collar I'd be floating around the place," you say.

The stress of being kidnapped, having your tribe enslaved and murdered, your village burned down, your mind and soul forced through the very depths of hell falls away as you talk to your old friend. You recount your story as she tells hers. Apparently, she spent much of the time in a coma, having her body hacked apart and remade. Her blood now contains vast amounts of chems and combat drugs, she has several new organs and stronger bones, faster blood clotting and much more. She's trained extensively both with swords, guns, explosives and infinitely more, as well as team tactics. She's been chosen out as Team Leader for the Uwais super-soldiers.

"So basically, you've become a super-soldier?"

"Super-soldier?" Magos Cern says, her voice flooded with the most emotion you've heard from her the entire time you knew her. "She's a failure. A disgrace. I had access to geneseed, space marine test subjects and untold resources. What did I create? A mockery. These "super-soldiers" couldn't take on multiple space marines each like I had hoped. They couldn't take on a single fucking space marine like I had planned! They're barely worth half a space marine! I've failed!"

"They'll do fine, Magos," Kyros says, arriving at another set of metal doors, which open to reveal a large table, where various figures are sitting.

There's Kyros, Magos Cern and Taj Suenage, as well as Kyros' daughter, who sits in the corner. There's also many more who you don't know. One is a tall, gaunt looking woman with pale skin and black hair pulled back in a pony tail, wearing a long coat that disturbingly, appears to be made from human skin. Another is a girl with a shaved head wearing heavy combat armor who is sharpening a long machete, another is a... person whose gender you can't tell, wearing black leather armor and lingerie in an odd attempt to look sexy at a war meeting, with long, curly black hair and excessive make-up. The person smiles at you, licking his... or her... or its lips. Then there's a young girl, younger than even you, wearing hooded robes and reading an ancient, dusty tome. Finally, there's a barely human monster. An obese man covered with rotting pores, boils, sores and pus-filled, infected wounds, with its arms replaced by long, rusted spikes. Kyros and Magos Cern take a seat.

"These are the leaders of the fleet, Fay and Karth. Some introductions are in order. First is me, the supreme leader of the entire fleet. Magos Cern leads the Dark Mechanicus on the ship and maintains the vessel itself. Chapter Master Taj Suenage leads the space marine chapter on board, the Undying Reapers. Then we have Calpurnia the Ravager, leader of the 22nd Istanford Regiment. "

The one with the human skin coat stands up, extending a hand to shake.

"Pleasure to meet you," she says, shaking both your hand and Fay's. I hope you're... efficient during your stay here."

"Then there's the Staine siblings. There's Rebecca Staine, the leader of the Bloody Claws, a war-band that worships Khorne the war god."

"Fuck you, psyker. You're weak and pathetic. Your parents should've left you to die," Rebecca growls, pointing her blade at you.

"Fuck you," Fay snarls, shoving her blade point away from your throat.

Rebecca stands, brandishing her sword, before the plague-ridden man stands, blocking Rebecca's path forward with one of his spike arms.

"Hey, hey! There's no need for violence! We're all brothers and sisters here!"

Rebecca sits back down with another growl.

"Alright, next we have Elios, leading of the Shrieking Harpies, a war-band that worships Slaanesh, the god of excess," Kyros says, pointing at the person clad in leather and lingerie.

"Pleasure to meet you, darlings. For slaves aboard a Chaos vessel, might I say you're looking... delectable," Elios says in a deep, masculine voice, licking his lips as he stares at both you and Fay.

"Keep it in your pants, Elios," Kyros says. "Next we have Elizabeth."

Elizabeth, the hooded girl reading the book, doesn't look up.

"She's risen to the position of leader of the One-Eyed Crows, a war-band that worships Tzeentch, the sorceror god. She easily reached the position through her amazing social abilities. Tell us about yourself, Elizabeth."

"Move along," Elizabeth says, making a circular motion with her hand without looking up.

"OK, Elizabeth. Finally, we have Durge, leader of the Black Rats war-band that worships Nurgle the plague god."

"Hello!" the diseased man says, waving his spike-arms. "It's a pleasure to meet you! I hope you're being treated well. I hope you're being fed enough. If not, it's probably because I've eaten all the food aboard this vessel!"

The man, Durge, breaks into laughter as several maggots burst from his skin. You try not to get sick.

"You're here to meet the leaders of this fleet so that you know who you'll be answering. We want you both to lead the slave army."

"Slave army?" Fay asks.

"The Uwais tribe soldiers, the previous batch of failed test subjects, the gladiator slaves and whatever else we can muster up. We'll hold the detonators to your explosive collars, but you'll hold a copy of the detonators for all the men under your command."

"There was a previous batch of failed test subjects?" Fay asks.

"Yes, there was. They were quite strong, but their minds were easily broken. Most weren't sentient, the sentient ones were insane. There was only one who you could even have a conversation with, the one I appointed leader. I'll show you to them some time after this. I assume you'll take the position?"

"It's not like I have much choice," you say.

"We'll take it," Fay says, answering for the both of you.

"This slave army, ot whatever you want to call it, will give us the strength advantage to become a serious military power in this tiny little sector. We could conquer ourselves a little kingdom from the weak and undefended worlds. We could become a raiding fleet that could have us living a life of luxury. But one little slave army wouldn't even give us a chance against even the defenses on Pluto!" Calpurnia says.

"I'll tear out your soul and devour it if you show anymore signs of cowardice!" Kyros yells. "Magos Cern, take Fay and Karth to see the previous batch of super-soldiers."

"I'll have to let the galaxy witness the shame of my failed creation when we release them on the galaxy. I might as well let the two adolescents have a preview of my sickening failure," Magos Cern says.

"We're not finished here!" Calpurnia splutters angrily. "I'm not launching my army on a suicide mission!"

"My army! As long as you serve me, it's my army!" Kyros screams.

"We take a vote, then," Calpurnia suggests.

"Fine, raise your hands if you don't want to go through with the assault, if you're a coward, if you're not loyal."

Calpurnia defiantly holds up her hands. Elios holds up his next.

"Sorry, Kyros. I'm not dying.. I'm too young and beautiful to die fighting an unwinnable war," he says.

Durge holds up a spike, looking ashamed.

"I'm loyal, Kyros, but I'm just as loyal to my men as you, and I won't see them die for nothing."

Elizabeth slowly raises a hand, looking up from her book for the first time.

"This plans suicide, Kyros. We both know that."

Kyros snarls in anger, looking around.

"That's me, Cern, Taj and Rebecca for attacking, and Elizabeth, Durge, Elios and Calpurnia for not doing so," Kyros says in a low growl.

"The slave leaders are the tie-breakers, then," Calpurnia says.

Kyros looks at you with a stare, holding onto the controller for your collars. Well, this seems like an obvious answer, even if it is a suicide mission.
> You support the assault on Terra
You keep your hand at your side, and while Fay raises an eyebrow, she does the same.

"Cowardly... but smart," Meliodas says. "Perhaps you'll realize your potential after all."

"Good... good!" Kyros says, his voice flooded with relief. "The slaves are loyal! Now I must question why my own allies aren't."

An uneasy silence fills the room, before Magos Cern breaks it.

"I shall take Fay and Karth out to inspect their new troops, the old generation of super-soldiers. Is that acceptable, Kyros?"

"Yes, yes," Kyros says, his mind clearly focused on other things. "Go then."

Magos Cern walks out of room, and you quickly follow, followed by Fay. You walk along empty hallway, heading towards the super-soldiers. Magos Cern is clearly not interested to talk at all, so you and Fay have time to talk.

"So, what just happened?" you ask. "Were we just given an army?"

"We've went from slaves to masters of a slave army, in five minutes," Fay says.

"Well, to be fair, we're still slaves. We're slaves who are also slave masters of a slave army," you point out.

"Alright, I suppose so. Anyway, are you OK? We've walked a lot," Fay says.

"I'm fine," you smile. "I don't know whether to be thankful you're looking out for me, or insulted you think I can't even walk that much."

You walk on, eventually entering a large, metal elevator. The elevator quickly begins descending down the ship.

"Alright, children. Listen up. We're going to wake our super-soldiers from their cyro-sleep. Don't make any sudden movements, don't make any loud noises, do nothing of the sort."

"Got it," you both say.

The elevator doors open, revealing hundreds of metal tubes lining the walls, the cyro-pods. Magos Cern walks forward, extending a metal tentacle that grows from her spike. The tentacle presses onto the consoles attached to the many pods, and three open. Cold air quickly floods out, and you watch as three lumbering monsters walk out.

"Behold, my failures," Magos Cern says.

The super-soldiers stand at eight feet tall, and are made of massive coils of muscle that makes them nearly twice as wide as even a normal man, without any armor. Their mouths are filled with hundreds of carnivorous teeth, like a shark's. They have short, four-inch bone claws extending from their wrists. Their skin is dark and misshapen, like someone tanned human skin to make leather and then stitched it over their bodies. They walk forward, grunting and growling. The first looks around, before stumbling back inside it's cyro-pod.

"Sleep... sleep... sleep..." it mutters, walking back inside.

"Size isn't everything... but it sure as fuck counts for a lot," Meliodas remarks.

The other two immediately begin head-butting each other with grunts, and you hear the sound of heavy bones smashing against each other. Magos Cern takes out a small data pad, pressing it. The two super-soldiers grunt, wandering back to their cyro-pods.

"These are the super-soldiers. The guards here have given them the nickname "Goliath's". I suppose it's fitting. They're not smart, but they fear the lash and the electro-collar, so they follow orders easily."

To prove her point, Magos Cern pulls out a small datapad, quickly tapping it. The pair of super-soldiers roar in pain, backing up into their cyro-pods. Magos Cern quickly taps on the pad and the cyro-pods close. He strides forward, to another tank.

"Let me introduce you to Specimen 401245. It goes by the name Cain. It's the most intelligent of the beasts, and the most friendly. Now, here he is."

The cyro-pod opens as Magos Cern taps quickly on the datapad. You see another massive, lumbering Goliath wander out of the cyro-pod. It looks almost the exact same as the others, the only differences being a pair of bone growths sticking out of its forehead like horns and its oversized lips held up by hooks to allow it to breath. It steps out, taking in a deep breath, before staring at you. There's a brief silence, that Fay quickly breaks.

"Does... can it talk?" she asks.

"It can definitely hear," the beast grunts in response.

"Um, hi there!" Fay says. "I'm Fay. What's your name?"

"Cain," he responds, his voice a low, rumbling, guttural growling sound.

"I'm Karth," you say.

"What time is it?" Cain asks.

"Time?" you respond. "I don't know. A little after noon, probably, or what the ship uses as noon."

"I don't care. What time is it for me?"

"... uh... the same time?"

"I am awake. I always sleep in the cold pod until I'm needed. I'm only needed to be cut up, drugged, poked and prodded, or to kill. What time is it for me to do? Kill, or be torn apart?"

"Neither. I'm here to introduce you to Fay and Karth, the new leaders of your men."

"My men? First time I've heard them called men," Cain says, running his claws against each other absent-mindedly. "Well? They've met me. What else is there? What do you want to know?"
> You ask a question
"What?" Cain grunts.
> You say "How did you get your name?"
"Found it scrawled in a tome that was dropped out in the trash, back when they let us be rather than freezing us. "Cain" is a lot easier to remember than the Subject however many numbers," Cain says.


"What?" Cain grunts.
> You say "How old are you?"
"How old? I don't know. Time in the cold pod makes it hard to tell. There's no sun, no days, no minutes," Cain says, seemingly pondering this.

"This subject is roughly five years, three months and two days."

"Ah... interesting," Cain remarks.


"What?" Cain grunts.
> You say "How many men do you have?"
"Do I look like I've counted many?"


"What?" Cain grunts.
> You say "How capable are your men?"
"They're tough. We've fought many times before. Most of us can wield bolters, though a few just end up using them as clubs to fight with their claws. A few can operate bigger weapons, and a few can only wield clubs and such. They follow orders, though. They show no fear, feel no pain, lose no battle. They'll take as much firepower as the enemy can give, even without armor."


"What?" Cain grunts.
> You say "What exactly is your motive?"
"Motive?"

"What do you want?"

Cain pauses, scratching one of his "horns". The horn begins to bleed, but you doubt he cares.

"I don't know," Cain finally answers.