"Life is pain, death is Oblivion, the only choice left to you by the will of the Dark Gods is how much you can endure. I grant peace. Embrace me."

The words ring in your ears as the darkness calls out to you. All you can do is focus ahead, waiting for dawn and a chance to wake up.

You sit cross-legged on the rocky obsidian floor, patiently waiting. You try your hardest to block out the world around you, focusing on your deep, heavy breathing. Giving the nightmares and daemons attention just encourages them. Showing fear is spilling blood in the water. Although the nightmarish pale sky grows darker with every second as black tendrils thousands of miles wide spread out across the sky hundreds of miles above, blocking out what little comfort you receive from the white sun, you don't feel fear. This is just one of the many nightmares that plague you every night. You'll live.

The darkness begins to solidly into a wave, smashing towards you. You're surrounded by the liquid darkness, which drowns out anything even close to light as it consumes you.

"The ever-gaping maw of the void calls," the darkness whispers. "I'm coming from you."
> You light emerges
You writhe tossing the sheets off you as you lie in bed, panting. Another nightmare. Another night of horrors, terrors and daemonic voices screaming at your soul. You take a deep breath. Focus. In. Out. In. Out. You rest your head against the pillow, sighing.

Suddenly, Fay appears in the doorway, wearing combat armor, scratching at her short hair.

"Morning," she says.
> You say "Morning, Fay. Well, last night was fun."
"Yeah, it was," Fay smiles. "Are you sure you're OK?"

"Perfect," you say, climbing out of bed and tossing the sheets off your naked frame, as Fay wolf whistles.

"Go fuck yourself," you say, walking into the bathroom.

"If I could do that, I wouldn't keep you around," Fay replies with a chuckle, as you walk into the bathroom.

You stand, and quickly walk to the bathroom. You stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, taking a deep breath as the voices start.

"Aren't you curious? Does Fay really love you? Or is she using you?"

"You're a Psyker. A nice steak, the embrace of a lover, the joys of the material world is nothing compared to what I can offer you."

"Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth to dust. The same will happen to you. Embrace the rot and decay that comes with life."

"Kill! Maim! Burn! Kill! Maim! Burn! Kill! Maim! Burn!"

You're gaining a certain level of familiarity with the daemons in your head. Now that Meliodas has vanished, more has come to fill your head. You've began naming them, one of the few ways you think you'll remain sane with them. Question Mark constantly tempts you with knowledge. Fucky tempts you with fantastic pleasures beyond compare. Rotgut is the embodiment of laziness, and makes you want to lie in bed in your own filth, and Smiley is just fucking bonkers.

Tzeentch's Keys, you miss Meliodas.

You quickly get dressed, before calling Fay. She opens the door, strolling inside.

"Hey, Karth," she smiles.

"Is she planning on betraying you? Is she loyal? You don't know... but I do," Question Mark says.

"Slit her throat, rape the stab wound and feel the blood run down your arm as you devour her throat! Feel pure blissful sensation!" Fucky whispers.

"Embrace your pestilence. You are filth. You are decay. But that is OK. You are still loved," Rotgut says.

"BURN! MAIM! KILL!" Smiley screams.

Fay raises an eyebrow, rapping her knuckles against your head.

"Hello, anyone in there?" she asks.

"More than you know," you reply.

"Meliodas back?"

"New guys. At least there's some variety."

"Are they saying anything about me?" Fay smiles.

"Cunt! Take her fucking head!" Smiley screams.

"I think they like you," you reply, as Fay laughs.

"You sure you're OK?"

"Tip top," you reply.

The barrage of voices screams answers in your head, as you take a deep breath. Fay kisses the top of your head, looking at you.

"Karth, come on, come back to me," she says.

"I'm fine," you reply, as Fay gives you a concerned look.

"If you're sure," she asks nervously. "Come on, we need to get to the war room for the morning meeting."
> You head to the war room
After a five minute walk, you arrive at the war room. The others are already there. Captain Hayes smokes in the corner, Primus appears as the upper half of a robotic body that only exists for something to focus on when talking, seeing as he literally is the ship, Durge sits in his seat, gently feeding pieces of meat impaled by his spike-arms to the rats infesting his stomach, Elios is involved in some heavy petting with one of his guards, Elizabeth reads, Castus and Fay are bickering and Cain sits in his chair, patiently waiting.

"Morning, gents," you say, sliding into your seat. "We need to get around to sorting out control of the ship now that Kyros is dead. We don't have time to celebrate."

"We have an issue," Primus says.

"What?"

"Drake Amadeus. His guards aren't replying, so I sealed off the bridge. We need to go investigate."

"Who was on guard duty?" Elizabeth asks, curiously.

"Padfoot and Prongs," you reply.

"They're hard men. They wouldn't not respond," Fay says.

"Isn't there cameras on the bridge?" Hayes asks.

"They're offline. Most likely from sabotage. Possibly from a malfunction," Primus says.

"Let's go investigate, then," you say.

"Let's do it," Fay nods in return.
> You find Drake
You find yourself standing by the sealed door to the bridge. You wait patiently, your hands writhed in purple flames, while Fay raises her bolter.

"Ready?" Primus asks.

"Do it," you say, as the doors open.

You quickly move inside and see the situation. Padfoot lies on the ground, a shiv made from a shard of ceramite impaled in his neck. Prongs sits in the corner, his bolter in his hands. Both his eyes have been stabbed out repeatedly.

"Holy shit," you say.

Prongs immediately aims his bolter at you as he lets out a shout. You telekinetically tear the bolter from his hands, tossing it aside.

"Shit! Karth?" he asks, terrified as Fay runs over and grabs him.

"Shit, Prongs! Are you OK?"

"I'm alive. Check on Padfoot!"

You quickly float over to Padfoot, but he's long dead.

"He's gone," you say.

"Fuck. Bastard took my eyes! He's still here! You need to find him!"

"We'll get you bionic eyes, Prongs, I promise," Fay says. "That's something that can be done?"

You nod, scanning the room for Drake. You move forward slowly, passing the Navigator's chair. You see Drake sitting off in the corner, a cigarette in his mouth he looks at you, nodding.

"Hey," he says nonchalantly. "How's your tribal whore? Has she grew any tits yet?"

You quickly levitate over, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him into the air.

"You son of a bitch! You killed my men!"

"I thought I had a chance at escape," Drake shrugs. "You shut this section off before I could."

You let the fire run along your hands, tickling his throats, as he yelps.

"Hey! You can't kill me, dumbass! We've been through this! You kill me, you're fucked. You torture me, I'll just kill you and me next time I'm navigating rather than endure a life of torture!"

You punch him, knocking his head against the wall, before letting him drop to the ground. Tribals enter behind you, grabbing him and binding his hands.

"Repair the cameras. Increase security for him," you sigh to one of the Tribals.

"Yes, sir," she replies.

"You know, you could add a bunch of security features, but I'd find a way around it. You want me to stop trying to escape, all I ask is a few more luxuries. Access to alcohol, drugs and smokes, access to one or two... comfort ladies," Drake smiles, despite the blood dripping down from his broken nose.
> You improve Drake's security
With the addition of magna-locks, a tighter schedule, more guards, a more advanced camera system for the bridge with multiple back-ups and fail safes, Drake is more secure. He's unhappy about it, and promises to slit your throat, but hell, what the fuck is he going to do? Try escape again? A dozen Tribals, pissed off about what Drake did to two of their men, have scared Amadeus into submission.

By the time you sort out Drake’s security measures, which involves dealing with Drake for far longer than any man deserves, you move on to doing all the inane, normal tasks that you now need to deal with like deciding rations, sending out crews to clean up the ship, assigning guards and all the other things expected of you. Unlike Fay, Cain, Castus, Elios, Durge and Captain Hayes, all of whom absolutely despise their new workloads, with Castus even suggesting a new system of anarchy where the only rule is anyone found filing something is to be shot, you actually like it. Olive, Primus, Elizabeth and you all find a certain level of peace in it. The mental challenges and problem-solving you have to deal with has a certain calming element on your mind. By the time it’s finished, it’s fairly late. There’s a night and day cycles on this ship, with the lights brightening and dimming to have a twenty four hour cycle, which stretches a bit long for you compared to home, but with a mid-day nap is manageable. You wonder what world the ship’s cycle aligns to. Perhaps whatever world Kyros came from.

Fay opens the door, walking inside.

“Karth, it's dinner time," she says. "Better hurry up. We want to eat early so we have the evening to discuss the important issues."
> You go eat
The meal is prepared by a mix of slaves, mutants with culinary abilities and the intelligence to follow orders, talented cooks taken from the soldiers aboard the vessel and a given few actual chefs hired for the role. Given that fact, the food’s not too bad. Grox ribs in some spicy sauce, some wild vegetable taken from some alien world, with a large brown stalk that’s boiled, sliced up and eaten, these gigantic nuts that are smashed open and eaten, some canned “Cheese” that tastes like… well, it doesn’t taste like cheese, to say the least. All this is paired with either wine or harder liquors, with you taking the former. Fay downs a bottle of fruity alcohol that could kill a weaker man. By the time you’re finished, everyone’s stuffed and most are atable little tipsy. You make the natural move from the dining room to the war room, and soon find yourself ready to debate the future of the ship.

“So, what do we have first on the planner, Primus?”

“War! We go to war! KILL! KILL! KILL! OBLITERATE!” Smiley screams.

“There’s a certain appeal to the life of a raider, isn’t there? Feel the joys and pleasures of the depraved…” Fucky suggests.

“Little one, I am more than happy to help. I have a plan to perform a ritual that will give you access…” Question Mark begins suggesting.

“Lay down your defenses, let the corruption and decay set in,” Rotgut says.

You take a deep breath, trying not to let the fact that your head is filled with voices that quickly delve into an argument show.

“We have several important issues,” Primus mechanical tone says. “First, we need to find a suitable replacement for the ship’s Tech Priests who once operated it. That should be our number one priority. Then, we need to take care of Kyros’ former allies.”

“Allies?” you ask.

“While much of Kyros’ forces, all who directly answered to him, at least, were aboard this vessel, he had amassed a larger force in which he hoped to invade the Imperium. He had made pacts with several forces. These allies could attempt to wipe us out in diligence to their old ally. Fortunately, we expect it’ll be some time before they muster up a force to attack us, if ever."

"What else?"

"We have a large amount of reports," Primus says.

A former-slave worker walks inside, holding a big stack of files that he dumps on the table. Typed documents are alongside large reports written in beautiful writing alongside hastily scrawled notes. The stack holds everything from troop psych reports to statistics about your flight wing to estimates about your wealth in various alien currencies.

"What the fuck is that?" Fay asks.

"These are the files and reports on our current situation. Thankfully, these have been simplified to the extreme to something that you all can actually comprehend. There's three big, circled figures, labeled Strength, Morale and Funds. See them?"

You look at the top of the files, nodding as you see the numbers.

"The Strength figure refers to the military strength of your forces, in a percentage. 100 means that you're the exact strength of Kyros' fleet during the times just before the mutiny, 50 would mean half strength of it, 200 would be twice the strength. The Morale figure is the general morale of the forces under your command, with 100 being incredibly happy crew to the point of being unbearable, and 0 being a crew that's only refraining from slitting your throat out of fear. The Funds figure is the amount of funding you have in your control, with every unit representing a million Thrones."

"Understood," you say.
> You continue
"Well then, now that we have that done, we need to decide what is to become of the ship," Durge says.

"Seeing as the ship is now conscious, it would rather you not decide what becomes of it," Primus says out of the speakers.

"Does someone want to explain why the fuck we have an AI running the ship?" Castus says.

"I've explained it to you," Primus says.

"Yeah, well fuck it," Castus says. "I'm still confused why you're in charge."

"Primus, what exactly do you want to become of you?" you ask curiously.

"Honestly? I don't mind. As long as I'm put to use. Fifteen thousand years had played havoc on my memories. I know longer remember any of my justifications or motives other than a need for freedom. Now that I'm free, I'm more than happy to help all of you. But, I want it known that I am free, and my opinion matters."

"Of course," you say. "Now, it seems we have a divide here. Chaos, Guardsmen and Slaves."

"So it seems," Elios says.

"What is it everyone here wants?" you ask.

The Staine siblings quickly begin discussing this quietly.

"We do plan on continuing as a Chaos War-band," Durge says.

"Most of my men want to continue our lives as soldiers, but honestly? I'm no thinker. I'm no planner. I'm a killer. We stay with the ship, let you two factions fight it out," Captain Hayes says. "I imagine I'll form a similar relationship with the new captain of this vessel as I did with Kyros, if with more generous terms for me and my men."

"Are the "slaves" unified in their goal?" Elizabeth asks.

You look to your allies. Cain shrugs, looking towards you.

"I like Hayes' approach to life. Karth is the commander," Cain says.

"I trust Karth to speak for my people's interest," Fay says.

Olive stares at you while Castus continues playing with his knife.

"Yeah, let's roll the dice. I think Karth should have the ability to speak for me... up until he says something stupid," Olive says.

"Well, we're the three Chaos leaders," Elios says. "So..."

"Chaos leader?" a deep, dark, gurgling voice says. "What a note to make my entrance on."

You turn quickly, to see Kyros standing there, smiling. His face is clawed and cut apart with an eye missing, his arm is now a bloody tentacle of muscles studded with bone, his other arm now sporting a huge bone claw, his body torn apart. Most of his throat is missing, a bloody crevasse where it once was. He looks like he's been chewed apart and spat back out, before being mutated.

"Hello, Karth, my little protégé," he says.
> You attack
You fire a bolt of energy, but Kyros sidesteps it with unnatural speed. By now, all the various leaders are standing, their weapons raised.

"How did you pass my sensors?" Primus asks.

"Please," Kyros laughs. "Did you not think my powers are strong enough to do so?"

"How the fuck are you even alive, Kyros?" you ask.

"Kyros? Ha! Kyros was a petty fool. Don't you recognize me, Karth?"

You shake your head, still ready to engulf him in flames.

"No? You don't remember my little voice in the back of your mind? I am Meliodas," Kyros says, taking a bow.

"What?" you ask.

"Oh, it was simple. I've wanted to take a form in this world for some time. I helped you, paying close attention, seeing potential, and assisted you as best I could. Fortunately, as you fought Kyros, I saw his mental defenses weaken during the fight between you and him. As he lay dying, the mutants at his throat, he was broken. I easily possessed his form, devoured his soul, and killed those stupid mutants with my daemonic powers."

"You're a daemon?" Elios asks.

"Damn right," Kyros, or Meliodas, says.

You take some time to explain who Meliodas is to your other lieutenants, but soon they understand. After some extensive questioning and psychic testing to ensure that this is in fact Meliodas, he takes a seat at the table.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Well, I helped advise Karth. I'm one of his best advisors. Surely I deserve a place here?" Meliodas says.

"I suppose," you say.

"Give him a seat. Us Chaos followers could use an extra vote for our side," Durge says. "Now, can we continue?"

"Don't hold off on my account," Meliodas grins.

"Alright, let's be realistic, shall we?" Elios says. "We're Chaos. We worship the Dark Gods, corrupt, parlay with demons, all that shit. We're not changing. We also know that we've lost a shit-ton more men because of little sis' rage against us, so if this comes down to a civil war, we're all dead and you win."

"Go on," you say.

"So, we have two options. Option One: You keep control of the ship," Durge says. "We'll serve under you as long as we see fit, but we most likely don't leave, and we decide our path forward as a group."

"Option two: you abandon the ship to us," Durge says. "We find you a world of your choosing, a little paradise world far from the reaches of the Imperium or any other enemies. It'll be our gift to you. You can pick out the world, we'll transport any who want to go there to it as well as all you'll need to survive and build a large, happy community. You'll be able to peacefully retire and live out the rest of your lives, never worrying about this ship or the battles it will fight."

"One moment," you say, pulling your lieutenants together. "So... What do we think?"

"Eh," Cain grunts.

"We're not going to abandon this ship, are we?" Olive asks.

"This is a massive war machine. We should stay.

"I'm not adverse to settling down," Fay says. "But we could take the ship anyway. With control of the ship, we could carve ourselves a little empire. Nothing on the level of Kyros' aspirations, but hey, better than our ancestors could ever have dreamed of."
> You keep control of the ship
"We'll stay," you say, as Durge nods.

"Well... this'll be interesting," Meliodas grins, twisting Meliodas' daemonic face.

"Alright," Elios grunts. "What's next on the agenda?"

"The ship," Primus says. "Or me, for lack of a better word. I have gotten it running to a degree and it's capable of travel, there's no way it will be able to hold up in a fight or operate long-term."

"How do we fix it?" you ask.

"The death of the Tech-Priests has left us lacking men specialized to repair the ship. I've found three groups that could hypothetically fulfill that role, as well as two other solutions."

"Go on," you reply.

"There is the Rutherford-Dalton-Boyle Think Tank, a faction hidden away in several space stations, researching and creating in the gas giant of Ingenium-IV. A good negotiator should be able to convince at least some of them to leave their stations to come aboard the Roar of the Vortex to continue their research aboard our vessel as well as having access to huge archives of intelligence here, being able to research the ship and maintaining that the technology isn't lost."

"Who else?" you ask,

"The Iron Smiths of Daeranthium. Daeranthium is a planet that contains several ancient factories and forges, with massive amounts of resources such as huge, ancient mines. The planet, while tribal in culture, are advanced enough to produce weapons, vehicles, armor and more for the Imperium. We could attempt to negotiate with them to take some of their men aboard to fulfill the role of engineers."

"And the final group?"

"The Dark Mechanicus is Chaos' version of the Adeptus Mechanicus, whether it be those from the Adeptus Mechanicus who went rogue and were corrupted by Chaos, or those recruited by them. Their work requires manpower that they don't have. I've found reports of a Dark Mechanicus group known as the Harbringers of Menedez. They've already made a reputation for selling slaves trained with skills such as the ones we desire. For five million Thrones, we could have them soon to fulfill the required role."

"You said you have two other options. What are they?"

"Option one involves the funding an education program to educate the mutant workers. For ten million Thrones, we could educate the mutant population. They wouldn't be as experienced as other options, but quantity has a whole quality all it's own."

"And...?" you say before Primus interrupts you. The

"Option two is more cruel. We have the technology and cybernetics taken from the dead Techpriests and Servitors. If you were willing to lobotomize a few of the mutant workers we have, the least intelligent and productive, to create a new legion of servitors under my control. This would be cheap, effective and we could have it done in the night to avoid breaking night, framing it as accidents. So, which option shall it be?"
> You visit the Iron Smiths of Daeranthium
You walk down the landing ramp, looking out at the large walls that surround the massive factory-city. Nude men wander around, covered in grease and holding large tools. Fay walks out of the landing, a shoulder-mounted camera and speaker on her to give Primus a place to speak and see.

"Well... I guess they're nude. What a lovely view, am I right, Karth?" Fay smirks.

"You grew up in a tribe of nudists," you remark.

"Yeah, but that was when I was little. Now that I'm post-pubescent, I can appreciate the view."

You flick your wrist, sending her tumbling to the ground.

"Asshole," she laughs, oping back to her feet.

A thick, burly, oil-covered man walks forward from the crowd of workers, a huge wrench in his hands.

"What?" he grunts.

"My name's Karth. I..."

You see a brawl emerge from the crowd to your left. Two massive workers begin to fight, their massive fists smashing into each other with an astonishing strength. They let out howling shouts as more men join into the fight. The leader strides forward with a growl, swinging his wrench and smashing a few men in the head, forcing them to crumple to the ground. Soon, the fight ends with a bunch of injured men lying on the ground.

"Sorry 'bout that," the leader says. "One of the boys thought Chef gave him too little meat. You know how men are. The name's O'Neill."

"You know why we're here?" you ask.

"You wanted to hire some of my men, huh? This Primus fella or whoever the fuck I talked to cleared it up with me," O'Neill asks. "I can get it done. We've been having a population explosion. But I want something in return."

"Go on?" you ask.

"My men are taken care of. Good medical treatment, free food, rooms and drink, and I mean men's drink, not milk and honey-shit, as well as payment for their work done. In exchange, I'll give you all the men you need. We gotta deal?"
> You agree
"Yeah. We have a deal," you say.

"Good. I'll have the men told, see which ones want to go and lead them all to the vessel. Then, I'll have them informed on their new jobs. Done?"

"Done," you say, grasping his hand and shaking.

In the next few weeks, you learn that while the famed Iron Smiths of Daeranthium are good at their jobs, they have... issues. They're violent, aggressive drunks prone to picking fights with the more peaceful members of the crew. While these actions don't take away from their work, it does lead to serious morale issues emerging, although these can be dealt with. Still, the Iron Smiths do their jobs. That's all you really need.
> Next
Now that you're finished working on repairing the ship and its back to full abilities, you have another issue. You restock at a nearby outlaw planet, trading much of Kyros' personal wealth in order to outfit and repair the ship, which is made simple with Primus' help. Ship operation seems actually fairly simple. As long as Amadeus is under your thumb and the military might is yours, you'll be fine. Most of the hard work required is done by Primus. With those two, you're golden.

One of the main issues, though, is the mutants. As your slaves have all been wiped out or had joined up with one of the war-bands, Kyros or your forces during the mutiny, mutants are now filling in most of the crew roles aboard this vessel. The thing is, they're getting antsy about their position, wanting more power and a say in the decisions of the vessel. Reports say that a mutant known as John the Hermit is leading the mutants, inciting dissent and rallying the masses of mutants.

Although the mutants are seen as an irrelevant issue by most, you know that's not the case. They're tough, with naturally mutated weapons, and there's massive numbers of them. If they're genuinely organized and inspired by this John the Hermit, they could easily take the ship when you're at low strength.
> You have John the Hermit assassinated
You have an elite group of Tribals sent down into the catacombs of the ship with the objective of killing John the Hermit. Comm reports show that they're wiped out to the last man, but not before carving a bloody path through the mutant horde, ending with John the Hermit's death before they're finally overwhelmed. Unfortunately, John the Hermit goes down with a strength you've rarely seen among the best of men, let alone a wretched mutant. As John the Hermit was engulfed in fire by a flamer blast, his skin crackling, his flesh cooking and his bones melting, he gave one of the most impassioned speeches you've ever seen, urging the mutants to not give up and continue with the rebellion as planned.

With that, the mutants rise up. You're simply unprepared for the scale of this rebellion. John the Hermit must have been planning this for decades, behind Kyros' back. Stores of ammo and weapons, hidden in stockpiles in the parts of the ship that hadn't been searched in millennia, are unearthed, as many of the functions of the ship cease as the mutants stop working. While your forces have better training, better equipment, better everything, as it has been said before, quantity has a whole quality of its own. The endless mutant hordes, entirely willing to die for their cause, all willing to martyr themselves as John the Hermit did.

As you stand in the war-room, surrounded by an army of mutants, burning dozens as lightning runs along your fingertips and psychic blasts kill all who could hope to oppose you, the mutants begin to overwhelm you. As their tentacles, hands and claws bring you down, tearing you apart, you have a brief musing about how similar this is to Kyros' death.


Now that you're finished working on repairing the ship and its back to full abilities, you have another issue. You restock at a nearby outlaw planet, trading much of Kyros' personal wealth in order to outfit and repair the ship, which is made simple with Primus' help. Ship operation seems actually fairly simple. As long as Amadeus is under your thumb and the military might is yours, you'll be fine. Most of the hard work required is done by Primus. With those two, you're golden.

One of the main issues, though, is the mutants. As your slaves have all been wiped out or had joined up with one of the war-bands, Kyros or your forces during the mutiny, mutants are now filling in most of the crew roles aboard this vessel. The thing is, they're getting antsy about their position, wanting more power and a say in the decisions of the vessel. Reports say that a mutant known as John the Hermit is leading the mutants, inciting dissent and rallying the masses of mutants.

Although the mutants are seen as an irrelevant issue by most, you know that's not the case. They're tough, with naturally mutated weapons, and there's massive numbers of them. If they're genuinely organized and inspired by this John the Hermit, they could easily take the ship when you're at low strength.
> You have John the Hermit brought to you
You sit in your war-room, waiting patiently. The room has been done up quite nicely now that you're in charge. The head seat at the table is a black, marble throne, with Magos' Cern's skull and Chapter Master Taj's head hanging from the red banner behind you, the banner emblazoned with the stark, spiky symbol vaguely shaped like the spear that once represented the Uwais tribe. You lieutenants are around you, Fay sitting directly to your right in an ornate red chair, with the upper half of the humanoid robot that Primus uses as his "face" to talk to to your left. Cain sits in a massive chair, a massive cooked carcass in his hands that he devours. Across from him sits Captain Hayes, who you've situated near the air vent to avoid choking on the ever-present smoke that emanates from the ever-present lho-stick clenched in his teeth. Olive and Castus are at the end, across from each other, which leads to an endless amount of bickering between the intelligent, pragmatic Olive and carefree, happy, impulsive Castus. You're all set up entirely to scare and intimidate John the Hermit when he enters. The Staine Siblings are off to the side with Meliodas, with Durge chewing on a rat carcass, Elizabeth reading, Elios waiting impatiently and Meliodas pacing the room. Hopefully, it'll work.

"By will of the people, I ascend to the chamber of the Gods! I will beseech them as a poor, twisted food, by will of the people!" a voice cries, as the door is pushed open.

Two Kasrkin soldiers stand next to John the Hermit. The mutant prophet is a horrible, wretched creature. His spine is twisted, making him a hunchbacked creature. The ring and pinky finger of his left hand is fused together, as is his middle and index finger, giving it a crab claw-like appearance. His other hand is different, a literal engorged crab claw, covered in a thick chitin, looking able to crush a man in half. His face is twisted and mismatched, with only a few oversized teeth in his mouth, one eye much larger than the other and a squashed nose that looks akin to it having been badly and repeatedly broken. His back is misshapen, covered with a thick chitin like that of a crab's being more akin to a shell than a human's back.

"With my own two eyes! With my own two eyes I see the supposed gods!" he says, walking forward with a strange look on his face that you can't decipher thanks to his deformities.

"Are you the man known known as John the Hermit?" you ask.

"The man? No, no, not at all. I am the beasts, a simple creature twisted by your inaction," John the Hermit says bitterly.

"My inaction?" you ask.

"Have you seen what freaks we've become? Nuclear waste from reactors aren't cleared off, even though we haven't used nuclear reactors for millennia! Malnutrition! Lack of medical attention! There used to be slaves who were constantly tortured and brutally forced to work, and we envied them!"

"What is it that you want exactly?" Primus asks.

"Who is it that runs this vessel?" John the Hermit asks.

"I do," you reply, looking briefly at Primus and the others for any signs of dissent.

"By what right do you claim to be leader? By will of the people, by democracy's gentle guiding hand, I am the rightful leader!"

"By right of force," you reply.

"Ha! I'd wager my army of malformed brothers against yours any day! We have the numbers, we have the will, we have the power to take this ship!"

"Did you come here to make threats and promise me you'll take over?" you ask, as your fists set alight.

"I came here to offer you a deal. John the Hermit is no leader. John the Hermit is a simple man. I just want a boost in our standards of living. Running water, good food, actual bedrooms, human rights!" he says.

"Primus, how much would that cost us?"

"If we were to raise the mutant standard of living to those described by John the Hermit, it would cost, and this is a rough, fluctuating estimate, twenty million thrones."

"That's doable, is it not? A few million Thrones to ensure your one at the head of this vessel? It's good, yes? I also want a place at your table, as an advisor, so I can continue speaking for my mutants. With this, we'll stay your humble servants."
> You set the mad hermit alight and be done with it
You fire a burst of flames. Unfortunately, John the Hermit goes down with a strength you've rarely seen among the best of men, let alone a wretched mutant. As John the Hermit was engulfed in fire by a flamer blast, his skin crackling, his flesh cooking and his bones melting, he begins to roar at you.

"You'll pay for this injustice! We'll rise up, crush you and break free! We'll rule the galaxy!"

It's only a few hours before the mutants learn what happened and rise up. You're simply unprepared for the scale of this rebellion. John the Hermit must have been planning this for decades, behind Kyros' back. Stores of ammo and weapons, hidden in stockpiles in the parts of the ship that hadn't been searched in millennia, are unearthed, as many of the functions of the ship cease as the mutants stop working. While your forces have better training, better equipment, better everything, as it has been said before, quantity has a whole quality of its own. The endless mutant hordes, entirely willing to die for their cause, all willing to martyr themselves as John the Hermit did.

As you stand in the war-room, surrounded by an army of mutants, burning dozens as lightning runs along your fingertips and psychic blasts kill all who could hope to oppose you, the mutants begin to overwhelm you. As their tentacles, hands and claws bring you down, tearing you apart, you have a brief musing about how similar this is to Kyros' death.


You sit in your war-room, waiting patiently. The room has been done up quite nicely now that you're in charge. The head seat at the table is a black, marble throne, with Magos' Cern's skull and Chapter Master Taj's head hanging from the red banner behind you, the banner emblazoned with the stark, spiky symbol vaguely shaped like the spear that once represented the Uwais tribe. You lieutenants are around you, Fay sitting directly to your right in an ornate red chair, with the upper half of the humanoid robot that Primus uses as his "face" to talk to to your left. Cain sits in a massive chair, a massive cooked carcass in his hands that he devours. Across from him sits Captain Hayes, who you've situated near the air vent to avoid choking on the ever-present smoke that emanates from the ever-present lho-stick clenched in his teeth. Olive and Castus are at the end, across from each other, which leads to an endless amount of bickering between the intelligent, pragmatic Olive and carefree, happy, impulsive Castus. You're all set up entirely to scare and intimidate John the Hermit when he enters. The Staine Siblings are off to the side with Meliodas, with Durge chewing on a rat carcass, Elizabeth reading, Elios waiting impatiently and Meliodas pacing the room. Hopefully, it'll work.

"By will of the people, I ascend to the chamber of the Gods! I will beseech them as a poor, twisted food, by will of the people!" a voice cries, as the door is pushed open.

Two Kasrkin soldiers stand next to John the Hermit. The mutant prophet is a horrible, wretched creature. His spine is twisted, making him a hunchbacked creature. The ring and pinky finger of his left hand is fused together, as is his middle and index finger, giving it a crab claw-like appearance. His other hand is different, a literal engorged crab claw, covered in a thick chitin, looking able to crush a man in half. His face is twisted and mismatched, with only a few oversized teeth in his mouth, one eye much larger than the other and a squashed nose that looks akin to it having been badly and repeatedly broken. His back is misshapen, covered with a thick chitin like that of a crab's being more akin to a shell than a human's back.

"With my own two eyes! With my own two eyes I see the supposed gods!" he says, walking forward with a strange look on his face that you can't decipher thanks to his deformities.

"Are you the man known known as John the Hermit?" you ask.

"The man? No, no, not at all. I am the beasts, a simple creature twisted by your inaction," John the Hermit says bitterly.

"My inaction?" you ask.

"Have you seen what freaks we've become? Nuclear waste from reactors aren't cleared off, even though we haven't used nuclear reactors for millennia! Malnutrition! Lack of medical attention! There used to be slaves who were constantly tortured and brutally forced to work, and we envied them!"

"What is it that you want exactly?" Primus asks.

"Who is it that runs this vessel?" John the Hermit asks.

"I do," you reply, looking briefly at Primus and the others for any signs of dissent.

"By what right do you claim to be leader? By will of the people, by democracy's gentle guiding hand, I am the rightful leader!"

"By right of force," you reply.

"Ha! I'd wager my army of malformed brothers against yours any day! We have the numbers, we have the will, we have the power to take this ship!"

"Did you come here to make threats and promise me you'll take over?" you ask, as your fists set alight.

"I came here to offer you a deal. John the Hermit is no leader. John the Hermit is a simple man. I just want a boost in our standards of living. Running water, good food, actual bedrooms, human rights!" he says.

"Primus, how much would that cost us?"

"If we were to raise the mutant standard of living to those described by John the Hermit, it would cost, and this is a rough, fluctuating estimate, twenty million thrones."

"That's doable, is it not? A few million Thrones to ensure your one at the head of this vessel? It's good, yes? I also want a place at your table, as an advisor, so I can continue speaking for my mutants. With this, we'll stay your humble servants."
> You agree
"Fine. A place at my table, and a rise in conditions. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes, most certainly, captain. The chalice of the gods has been spilt, and mine are happy to lap up what drips out. Most certainly," the mutant grins.

"Thank fuck! Now, are we finished with all these mindless fucking issues?" you ask. "Primus, I need some rest. You're in charge of the ship, Primus."

"Good to know I'm in charge of myself. I was having a free will crisis up until that order," Primus says, in what you assume could be a joke.

With that, you walk out of the stress-filled shit-hole, to take relax.
> You relax
You find yourself in Kyros' extravagant chambers, filling a large stone bath. You quickly get undressed, lowering yourself in the water as you feel heat run through you, and the aching pain hits you briefly.

"Fuck," you grunt.

You've been doing too much physical activity. You forget you're a skinny kid devoid of muscles sometimes, besides a powerful destroyer of worlds. You take a deep breath, before briefly submerging yourself in the water. You lift your head out, feeling your long hair grow heavy with water. You grab a long knife from the edge of the bath, and quickly begin to hack away at your hair neat and tight.

"You OK, Karth?" a voice calls.

You stare out, spotting Fay entering the room.

"Yeah, I'm OK," you reply, running your wet hands over your scalp.

"You cut your hair?" she asks.

"Yeah, it was getting long. I hadn't noticed, but Kyros didn't exactly keep us well groomed. I guess you don't get bothered by the smell of teen spirit if you were always dealing with rotting corpses, mutants shit themselves and the smell of your ideals slowly rotting."

"I suppose so. I've not cut my hair either. I just have one of the Tribals braid it. So, do you want company for your little bath?"

"Isn't that the only reason I keep you around?" you smile.

Fay gives you the finger, before she unclasps the tunic-type thing she'd been wearing, letting it fall away. You sit in the warm water staring at her for a minute, admiring her strong, muscled form, her gorgeous, ample...

"Hey shaman, lift your jaw, you seem to have dropped it," Fay laughs, dropping into the water with a loud splash.

"We stuck in a spaceship without windows drifting through the endless void known as space. You can't blame me for admiring a view when I have the chance."

Fay laughs, smiling.

"It's not like you haven't seen it before. In fact, if I recall correctly I was naked the very first time we met."

"Oh yeah. Nearly forgot about the fact that I have a filthy Azajaja leading my Uwais boys."

"Hey, I've hunted with the Uwais, fought alongside the Uwais, killed for the Uwais. You spent your time just sitting on a pillow, except when I was around to carry you."

"I enjoyed the former way more than the latter," you say with a smirk.

"Are you saying you don't want me here?" Fay says, fake-pouting.

"No. I need to relax, and I'm sure bathing with you will prove... relaxing."

Fay gently leans over to you, lying on your lap.

"Was bathing all you were planning?" she smiles.

Admittedly, the rest of the night is quite the stress-reliever.
> The Next Day
You watch as a group of Tribals spar. One of them, a bare-chested man in a gas mask, smashes one in the head, before grabbing one and flinging him against the ground.

"Now, kill! Break! Obliterate!" Smiley yells.

"Why does he wear a gas mask?" you ask one of the training supervisors.

"Who, Opie? Dude's in charge of explosives for his squad. Has a penchant for gas attacks."

"He's impressive."

A dull, monotone voice comes out of the speaker, drawing your attention.

"Karth, there's a meeting in the war room," Primus says.

You sigh, and head to the war room. Five minutes later, you find yourself in the war room. Hayes, Elizabeth, your girlfriend Fay, Castus, Olive and John the Hermit are there.

"Where's everyone else?" you ask.

"I'm here," Primus says. "I just didn't bring in my "body" because I won't be participating in this conversation much," Primus says, referring to the robotic upper body that Primus uses to help people know where to focus when talking to him.

"Why not? Why are we even here?"

"We're here to regulate, or not regulate, drug usage among the population. That doesn't exactly effect Primus. Durge's Nurglites don't do them, the Goliaths don't do them, and who the fuck knows where Meliodas is? That leaves us," Elizabeth says.

"What about Elios?" you ask.

"Elios threatened to... "stab me in the throat and fuck that stab hole" if I tried prohibiting his "freedom"."

"Yes! I like this man! Follow  his example!" Fucky says.

"Alright, let's get it done, shall we?" you ask.
> You begin
"What's first, then?" you ask.

Elizabeth grabs a metal, torso-shaped rig covered in syringes and medical equipment onto the table.

"This is called a chem rig. Pioneered by the Morallians in the Eastern Fringe, picked up by various mercenaries, and now heavily used on this ship. The rig is outfitted with several syringes filled with either medicines or light drugs such as the adrenaline-based Pulse, the sedative Sacred and a few other things. It's not been researched to any degree, but there appear to be no short term effects. Still, it could be dangerous long term. Soldiers buy these to increase their combat efficiency, so it can be of help to us."

"The gladiators use it. It's effective," Olive says.

"I've seen my Tribals use it as well. It helps, but it does tend to lead to the start of heavy drug usage that can go downhill."
> You ban
"Ban it," you say.

"Alright then," Elizabeth says, looking down at her notes. She fumbles through her pockets, pulling out two packets. One of a white, granular powder, the other is a brown one, looking like grinded up dirt. "Here we have Zap and Dirt. Zap can be snorted, eaten or drank with alcohol to perk up energy levels and increase reaction time, while Dust is inhaled to improve your senses. These drugs DO have a few negative effects. Mood swings and some minor mental problems with the former, respiratory issues with the latter. There's not very popular, but only as it's fairly new and we haven't stopped at ports recently."

"Thoughts?" you ask.

"I don't have enough research to formulate an opinion," Elizabeth admits.

"Allow Zap! That shit's good!" Castus says, finally paying attention, before getting distraction by a smudge of... something on the table.

"Perhaps its effect on mental health are really serious. I mean, look at Castus," Olive says.
> You ban
"Ban," you say. "What else we have?"

Elizabeth fumbles through her bag once more, pulling out a small, black vial. She places it on the table.

"Reaper," she says. "It's just arriving from the Black Aces War Band."

"What's it do?" you ask.

"It gives users a huge confidence boost and immunity to pain, faster reflexes, a faster heart rate and adrenaline for a small period of time. It's very dangerous, though, only used in bad situations. It has a 10% fatality rate, but it's VERY effective in battle."

"That stuff leads to serious health issues," Fay points out.

"Very effective, though. Shockingly so," Castus says.
> You ban
"Ban it," you say.
> You continue
Your mass banning of the combat drugs prevent morale from falling due to any issues with that, although it does lead to a sharp drop in combat efficiency of your troops. Still, that's life. At least your men are safe.
> You continue
"Next are the more recreational drugs. The first is a familiar vice: alcohol. Although the light beers and wines are too invaluable for the ship to ban, as since the crew drinks them, they’re boiling the water before they’re used in brewing these drinks, hence stopping disease from spreading due to the very unsanitary water in many parts of the ship. Still, harder liquors, like the spirits, the harder beers and the venom shit that that’s so common on the vessel are simply bad for your health and disruptive. If you were to ban these, you’d be able to increase the productivity and general levels of health on the ship. It is common on the vessel, due to how easy it is to produce, and how commonplace. Due to its radiance across the cultures of at the very least the humans on the ship, be it from the wines and rums enjoyed by the raiders and bandits, the hard liquors mercenaries pour down their throat, the wines and strange bears enjoyed by pre-industrial recruits and the simple, mass-produced moonshine and liquor that can be found on any hive world in existence."
> You ban
The ban goes miserably. As soon as it goes into place, there’s uproar and even strikes organized by the workers, but these are easily quelled by a few experienced Goliaths knocking some heads together. Still, everyone begins to brew their own, from bathtub gins created by the shitty metal wash basins that you barely deign to qualify as bath tubs, to massive operations creating a variety of drinks, taking up whole forgotten floors on the ship. Still, the problems caused by the worse quality liquors given to the mercenaries and the general unhappiness caused by having to pay exorbent amounts just to get something that’ll get you drunk and isn’t mostly Promethium and weak acid has worsened morale, though not all the alcohol that can be found is pathetic. From what Castus and Fay say, the pricier drinks are actually of better quality than what you were unimportant. No doubt they had sampled it only to verify that the brewers were making alcohol before destroying every drop of it. You ignore the rumors that they’re these industries’ biggest customers.
> You continue
Well, on to the next group of recreational drugs. Whilst alcohol technically falls under this category, it’s not usually what people refer to. No, the main ones, as you see when Elizabeth puts them on the table, are less traditional

Elizabeth puts a large, brown cigar, a glass vial containing blue liquid, a small patch of green tablets and quite a few other drugs

“These are known collectively as the Eyes, due to all of them having a fairly noticeably effect on your eyes. It’s really a catch all term commonly used on the ship, and in the sector. They’re… for lack of a better word, light drugs. From the smokeable Sun Scales designed to get you in a trance or give you some hallucinations, the Blood Root that has the effect of making the user feel happier and more mellow, the Slug juice, absorbed through the skin, that helps relieve pain and puts the user into a deep, peaceful sleep, the Bright Gas that improves the user’s mood, the Castins that when smoked increase confidence… I can go on forever. These drugs have some negative effects, but realistically, no serious ones when taking into account their expected lifespans and the sheer amount of risks they’re already facing. Anything the drugs do is neglible. The only possible risk is that their productivity worsens because they’re as high as a kite.”

“So, do we ban or allow?” you ask.

“Well, those aren’t necessarily the only options, in this instance. Due to the nature of these drugs, we have five options. The first two, as you’ll know, involve either blanket banning or fully allowing these and letting the winds of free market spread them out among the crew. The third involves allowing them, but to a limited degree. Everyone has a limited amount they’re allowed to buy, only the least dangerous are brought in, that kind of thing.”

“Go on,” you say.

“The fourth possibility is that we become proactive with our usage of the drugs. We’re forcing our men to face horrors beyond comprehension and risk their lives. We could, for a small amount, begin purchasing and producing these drugs on-ship, rationing them out to raise the morale of the crew. Plus, this would give us the ability to actually begin selling drugs on the open market if we find a better group of cooks and a supplier. Lastly, we could just go all out. Buy a huge quantity of the drugs and start manufacturing them on ship, and just start pumping them out to the crew. Pump the gaseous drugs into the air, put all the soluble drugs into the water supply and crush up everything else to put in the food. This would amplify morale tenfold, although could lead to a serious drop in productivity, seeing as you literally couldn’t breath without getting insanely high.”
> You allow
You allow it. Fuck it, it would just flood in anyway. Other than that, pretty much nothing changes.
> You finish up with decisions for the day
You've done enough work. You've done a lot for the ship. Time to head to bed.
> The Next Day...
As the shuttle touches down on the planet, you sigh a breath of relief. You walk out of the shuttle, into the clearing you've landed in, staring at the dozens of black trees that surround you. All your lieutenants are with you, excluding Durge and Meliodas, both of who are happier to stay on the ship.

Although the planet, whose name you can't even remember, is for the most part two extremes of frozen, forever dark wastelands, and burning, forever insanely bright wastelands. So wastelands, mainly. Still, a strip exists around the equator in a sweet zone, which act as bountiful, fertile zones. It's this zone that you'll be taking advantage of on your little planet side excursion. You watch as dozens of shuttles land and hordes of mutants break free of the shuttle to gather resources. Hell, this'll probably raise morale for the mutants, seeing as this'll be the first time they've seen natural sunlight.

"So, do we have any tasks for today?" you ask Elizabeth.

"No, we've nothing to do but relax. I've put few loyal men in charge, as well as John the Hermit. They'll do what's expected of them."

"Perfect, so we have free time," Fay says. "Anything on this planet worth hunting?"

"There's a species known as Behemoths, incredibly hardy creatures that can survive in either extreme environment, occasionally raiding the fertile zone to feast," Elizabeth says.

"Are they sentient?" Fay asks.

"No."

"Are they near extinction?" Fay asks.

"Again, no," Elizabeth says.

"Alright, perfect. I'll grab a few of my Tribals and go on the hunt," FAY says.

"Yeah, I'll come," Castus says.

"I'll go as well," Fay says.

"Smells funny here. I'm going to sleep," Cain says, walking over to a tree and slumping against it as he closes his eyes.

"You want to come hunt, Elios?" Fay asks.

"Please, do I seem like the type to go hunting? I'm going to bathe by the river," Elios says, sauntering off.

"Elizabeth?" Olive asks."Are you coming hunting?"

"This is a peaceful, relaxing environment. I want to practice on my psychic abilities," Elizabeth says again.

"Hayes? You coming?" Fay asks.

"Yeah, I'll come," Hayes says, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.

Well then, you've a few choices on what to spend your day doing.
> You go hunting
"I'll hunt with you guys," you say.

"Terrific," Fay says.

"I'll get you a gun," Olive says.

You set a tree alight with a flick of your wrist, as the Warpfire quickly runs up, multicolored flames licking the sky as the tree is quickly burnt down to ash.

"Do you think I need one?" you ask.

"Fair point," Olive says.

"Let's get going!" Castus says, twirling his sword. "I wanna stab something!"

Elizabeth transfers over a short amount of data onto Olive's datapad about the Behemoths. Then, the group moves forward through the wilderness, as Olive begins to flick through the information.

"So Hayes, you were a Guardsman, then?" Olive asks. "From what I heard, they give you a flashlight and a t-shirt and send you to fight serious foes."

Hayes sucks on his cigarette, thinking.

"Yeah, all command gave us was jack and shit. I remember my first deployment. We were in the jungle, and I mean a serious fucking jungle. Seemed like the whole jungle was sentient and wanted to fucking kill us. Snare vines strangled every single one of us. The ground would just give way. You'd be on patrol, and the mud would suck up an entire tank. You'd blink and it'd be gone. Then there was the greenskins. You'd give 'em a few sticks with the bayonet, and they'd laugh and call you a grot."

"Greenskins. They used to be the biggest threats back home. When I was a kid, they took out my tribe. I remember being surrounded by a green tide, roaring, screaming and terrifying me. By the moon, I think I ended up pissing myself," Fay says.

"How the hell did it kill your tribe? Who are the Tribals, then?" Castus says.

"I ended up getting rescued by the Uwais tribe. They adopted me."

"Really? Was it the tribe that saved your ass and blew up a bunch of heads?" you say.

"Fine, Karth saved me with his weird Shaman powers," Fay says.

"So, I'll just come out and ask. Olive, there's a rumor going around that you and your brother are fucking."

"Holy shit!" Olive says, as Castus breaks into laughter. "No! No! Just no!"

"You fight Orks, gladiators?" you say, quickly changing to a less incest-related topic.

"Occasionally they got Orks in, but it was rare," Olive says. "Usually we fought each other, or mutants."

"Mutants were easy. You just had to kill them," Castus says. "Other gladiators were hard. You had to hit them in just the right place. It needed to be bloody, but you couldn't kill a fellow gladiator, you know? Sometimes in the heat of battle, you took a bad swing, slashed open a throat, did something else. Those were the bad days."

Castus goes quiet, seemingly deep in thought.

"Yeah," Olive says, finally. "We fought Orks sometimes."

You walk on in silence, before Fay stops, dropping low. Massive footprints cut directly across the trail. Fay traces the footprint with her pinky, pressing her hand against the mud.

"It's relatively fresh. Tracks break away in undergrowth. Could've gone along the river. Could've gone straight along the underbrush, or twisted off through the trees."

"I'll go along the river," Castus says.

"I'll take the underbrush, then," Fay says.

"Trees," Olive says, simply.

Captain Hayes looks at you, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll give you first pick, Karth," he says.
> You take the river with Castus
"I'll go with Castus," you say.

"Kickass," Castus says.

You quickly towards the river. You walk along the banks, while Castus happily wades up to his knees. He dunks his head under water, slicking back his wet hair.

"Uh, that feels good!" Castus laughs, before diving into the river.

"We're supposed to be hunting!" you exclaim, hovering into the air, staring for any signs of the creature.

"What the fuck would I care?" Castus cries. Come on, motherfucker. Get in the water."

You hover over Castus, the soles of your boots just touching the water. Castus rolls his eyes, grabbing you by the boot and in one swift movement pulling you in. The water's cold, but in the hot weather of today, quite refreshing. You float in the water, drifting along the river slowly.

"Fuck hunting, this is all I want," Castus says.
> You drift peacefully along
You say nothing, continuing to float along the water. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath.

Your peaceful relaxation is interrupted as the comm bursts to life.

"Got a sight on it! Fuck, it's a big one!" Olive says over the comms.

"Shit," Castus says. "Well, we need to go deal with that."

Castus climbs out of the water, quickly hurrying along towards Olive's path.
> You head towards the Behemoth
You hurry through the forests, levitating over streams and fallen trees. With your speed, it’s less than a minute before you arrive, seeing the beast.

It stands twice the height of even a space marine, and easily six times as wide, on four clawed legs. It’s skin is grey, seemingly covered in scales that remind you more of the stones themselves rather than the hide of a beast. Its head is like that of a spider’s, hissing at you as it raises its massive, stony clawed arms to swipe at you. You hover back, feeling electricity coarse through you as you prepare for a fight.
> You smash it telekinetically with a tree trunk
You grab a tree with your mind, lifting it through the air, as gunfire erupts from your companions. Even the powerful bolter fails to break through its thick, rock-like exterior. You swing the tree with incredible strength, smashing into the creature and sending splinters around the place. The creature doesn’t even step back, instead charging ahead towards you. You float to the side, as Hayes quickly arrives, raising his rifle and firing. As expected, the las beam has no effect.

“Ha! It’s good to be killing again!” Castus yells.

“Fuck, we’re not getting through this. Maybe we up the armament?” Fay says.

“Go for the eyes and the inside of the mouth!" Hayes yells, firing his gun.

Well, that didn't work. Time for something else.
> You take it to some psychic-amplified melee
You fly forward, smashing a fist into the Behemoth's head, squashing out one of its eyes as your fist flies straight into its head. It howls as it smashes its claws as you, but you simply drop underneath the swings and continue smashing your fist into its chest. The Behemoth smashes its head forward, shattering your shoulders and sending you hurtling towards the ground as you smash into the soft mud. The Behemoth steps forward, crushing its claw into your chest and shattering your bones crushing your chest. You're killed on impact.


You grab a tree with your mind, lifting it through the air, as gunfire erupts from your companions. Even the powerful bolter fails to break through its thick, rock-like exterior. You swing the tree with incredible strength, smashing into the creature and sending splinters around the place. The creature doesn’t even step back, instead charging ahead towards you. You float to the side, as Hayes quickly arrives, raising his rifle and firing. As expected, the las beam has no effect.

“Ha! It’s good to be killing again!” Castus yells.

“Fuck, we’re not getting through this. Maybe we up the armament?” Fay says.

“Go for the eyes and the inside of the mouth!" Hayes yells, firing his gun.

Well, that didn't work. Time for something else.
> You ram a tree trunk down the beast's throat
You levitate a tree trunk into the air, flinging it forward. It flies through the air and smashes into the beast's open throat, as the beast stumbles backwards as you drive the tree further down its throat. The beast tries to howl, but only ends up choking. You quickly levitate back as the beast stumbles around, before it finally collapses on the ground.
> You stand above the vanquished beast
You quickly levitate over the beast, dropping onto it's head, gently pressing your boot against its head and smiling.

"Karth one, nature zero," you say.

"Barely counts as hunting with those powers," Hayes says, jabbing his bayonet into the monster's thick skin, as it simply scrapes along the hide. "Fuck me, this is thick. Could probably survive a Baneblade cannon."

"How long before we have to return?"

"About an hour," Fay says, drawing a knife and tapping it against the beast's hide.

Now that you have some free time, you might be able to solve this whole romance issue, see where that goes.
> You spend some time with Fay
"Hey, Fay. Ooh, that rhymes," you say, walking up to the Azajaja Tribal.

"What's up?" she asks.

"Come on, let's spend some time together."

"I can't. I've already arranged to spend some time with Castus, then Hayes."

"Oh," you say, disappointed, as Fay laughs.

"I'm kidding, witch boy. I'll always have time for you."

"Aw, romantic," you smile.

"Oh, not for the romance. Only because the sex is good. Must by your psychic powers. Now, come on, let's go do something fun," she says.

Fay begins walking off into the trees, as you follow behind her eagerly.

"So... we're dating," you say.

"Correct," Fay replies.

"Well then," you say, floating forward.

You both continue moving forward through the trees , as you take a deep breath. The voices chatter in the back of your mind, although they seem bored and disinterested. They'll probably come back soon enough, but for now you're content with their silence. You float on, both silent.

"How many people were there back home?" Fay asks, breaking the silence.

"What do you mean?"

"How many people were there in all the tribes?"

"Uh... ten thousand, twenty thousand maybe," you reply. "Why?"

"Think about it. Our entire world was twenty thousand people. My dreams as a kid involved leading a group of a thousand warriors to purge out a bunch of Greenskins. With the forces we have now, we'd be able to wipe out the tribes a billion times over."

"Yeah. We're doing well," you reply, looking up at the sky, with the sun slowly setting in the distance. "How far do you think we are from home?"

"I don't know. A million miles. A billion. Hell, a trillion. Hard to imagine."

"You come across the river and step forward, levitating over the stream, stopping on the other side.

"Lucky psychic bastard," Fay bumbles, sitting down to pull off her boots. "I don't want to get my boots water-logged. I'll throw 'em over, OK?"

You nod, as Fay throws her boots across, both of which land on the shore next to you.

"Uh... maybe you should throw over the rest of your clothes. So they don't get wet," you say.

"Why the fuck are we even crossing this river?" Fay says.

"See what's on the other side," you say.

Fay sighs, pulling off her coat and bundling it up. She tosses it over, and you catch it, as she begins to unbutton her shirt. She looks up at you expectantly.

"Are you going to look away?" she asks.

"I wasn't planning to," you say.

Fay gives you the finger, buttoning her shirt up again.

"Fine, I'll stay dressed," she says.

Fay steps back, before running forward and diving. You raise your hands, as instead of splashing into the water she instead levitates in the air, floating across the river. You release her back on the grassy blanks, where she lands softly on her back.

"There you go," you say helpfully.

"Why didn't you start with that?" Fay asks.

"I was hoping you'd fully undress," you admit.

Fay laughs, grabbing one of her boots and pelting you in the head. You stumble backwards with a groan, before Fay knocks your legs away, knocking you into the water.

You quickly surface, floating out of the water, coughing out water.

"Are you OK?" Fay asks, looking worried.

"I'm soaking!" you complain, as Fay bursts into laughter.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just pretty funny."

You flick your wrists, sending Fay tumbling into the water. She swims to the top again, spitting out water, as you lower yourself back into the water.

"OK, I deserved that," Fay says.

You flick your wrists, tossing Fay's boots into the water.

"You're a bad person," Fay says, diving underwater and surfacing with her boots, and tossing them back onto the shore.

You swim to the shore, climbing back onto the short as Fay follows. You lie on the grass, feeling the sun on your skin, as you pull off your soaking robes. Fay unbuttons her shirt, laying it out in the sun to dry, revealing her bra. You attempt not to stare, but you obviously stare. She pulls down her trousers and lays down next to you.

"It's nice to get off the ship," you say.

Fay leans over, resting her head on your bare chest, looking up at you.

"So..." she says.

Fay moves forward, kissing you passionately. She wraps her arms around your shoulders as you quickly find your hands going directly where you'd expect to them. You close your eyes, and everything feels alright for once in this shitty galaxy.
> You an Hour Later...
You lie, naked and covered in sweat and... other bodily fluids. You look up at the sky, now golden with the falling sun.

"Karth! Fay!" Olive yells. "We need to go!"

You curse, grabbing your robes which you drape over your frame as Olive hears you and jogs over.

"Hey, guys, we.... Oh. Ooh. So this is happening."

"Piss off, Olive!" Fay says, scampering under her clothes.

"Yeah... you guys need to go to the ship. We're leaving soon," Olive says, her glance flickering between both your and Olive's genitals.

"Olive!" you shout.

"Sorry, fine, fine," Olive says. "I'll go!"

Olive quickly heads away, leaving you and Fay lying on the ground.

"Alright, let's bounce," you say, as you adjust your robes.

Fay quickly dresses in her clothes, before standing and pulling you up.

"Well, that was fun," you say.

"Yeah, it was. But, back to work as always. Ready to conquer a galaxy?"

"Damn right," you reply.
> You hours Later...
The dropship enters the landing bay, as you lean back against then wall. Gone is the scent of trees, the tweeting of birds, the delightful senses of the forest replaced with the smell of Promethium and grease, the noise of distant orders echoing off the hallway walls and the gentle hum of the machines that keep the ship going. Still, when you let your senses flood with the sounds and smells of the ship, you're reminded of the smell of tanned Puk leather, oil lanterns and wild flowers of home, and the constant chattering of Tribals outside your tent. If anything, you feel more at home on this ship than you ever did there.

As you step off the dropship, you smile and walk on.
> You continue
"BURN IT! DAMN YOU, FREAK! YOUR SOUL IS MINE! I'LL FEED IT TO THE DOGS!"

"The change and mutation of the human form is natural. Your body is a tool. Forge flesh."

"Pestilence. Plague. Rot. It's natural. The conditions that cause these mutants to come about seem terrible, but to give up on caring for the appearance of your temporary vessel is liberating..."

"The sensations you can feel..."

"Just shut up!" you say loudly, as John the Hermit, Primus' figurehead and Olive stare at you.

"Not... It's the... fuck!" you complain.

"FUCK! PURGE! OBLITERATE! I'M THE FUCKING DEATH OF WORLDS, DO YOU HEAR ME?! OBEY ME!" Smiley screams in the confines of your skull.

"Uh... alrighty then. Do you want to take a break, or...?" Olive says.

"Continue," you snarl.

John the Hermit nods, and continues to read from his notes.

"Genes have remained stable and unmoving as the steel the ship is carved from for the Bestial-12ABQ1 strain of mutant, so they'll be transferred to serve the great powers of the ship by working with waste recycling, by turning the old to th..."

"Can you trust the mutants? Their mind is as shifted in loyalties as their form. They betrayed Kyros with ease, why not you? Don't you want to know where their loyalties lie? To embrace your powers to stay strong and in power?" Question Mark asks.

"Let it all turn to the powers of decay. Let..." Rotgut moans.

"Fuck, I take it back, shut it. I need a break," you say.

"We can take a break. When do you think you'll be able to start this again?" Olive nods, as you shake your head.

"Fuck that. I'm taking a break, you continue this. Do it without me. It's not like I give a fuck, right? Primus, Olive and you can handle it.

"We'll get it done. Go jerk off or whatever you do," Olive says.

This is your home, admittedly, and you love the ship. You feel home here. You don't, however, feel at home inside your head. The shore leave helped, but you miss the old bastard Meliodas. At least he stayed quiet and helped sometimes. You need to find a way to deal with this.
> You visit Meliodas
Rumor has it, Meliodas hangs around the lower warrens. Maybe its time to pay him a visit.

After a quick search, you find yourself in an abandoned cargo hold of the Roar of the Vortex. It's known to the mutant populace that inhabits the floor as the Red Market, and everyone else calls it the Craphole. The area is bustling with activity, as mutants sell and buy whatever it is the fuck mutants sell and buy. You walk along the paths, as the mutants quickly notice you.

"Sir! Sir! You there!" a mutant with a horribly mangled face covered with dozens of eyes says.

"What?" you ask, looking at the monster.

"I recognize you! The holos showed you! You're the man who dethroned Kyros!"

"Yeah, I guess I am," you say.

"Ah, splendid!" the mutant says, shaking your hand. "Conditions have improved tenfold with you in charge, sir! You must be starving! Here, let me get you something to eat, free of charge!"

The mutant disappears under the stall, before bringing up a large, horribly mutated rat the size of a small child. The rat looks at you, seemingly indifferent.

"Uh... I prefer my meat cooked... and not a rat. Thanks, though," you say, stepping back.

"Meat?" the man asks, confused. "No, no! This is the mother! Through it, we get milk! Then, cheese! You don't want to inspect the rat for disease before you have the cheese?"

The mutant looks at you confused, before grabbing a lump of sickly yellow... cheese, you suppose.

"Oh... I just ate," you say. "Look, I need your help. I'm looking for someone. Meliodas."

"Meliodas? Yes, I know this name. I can take you to him. Follow me," he says.

You follow the mutant along the market, before taking a side route off down a hallway. Soon, you find the daemon. He paints heretical symbols on the walls with his one blood, which drips down from his wrists.

"Meliodas. I need assistance," you say.

"How can I help?" Meliodas asks, his head twisting around at an unnatural angle.

"The daemons. In my head," you say.

"Don't you fucking dare try to get rid of us! DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!" Smiley howls.

"I need to get rid of the daemons in my head," you say simply.

"I can do it. It'll hurt, though. And leave a few marks," Meliodas says.

"Will it be serious?" you ask.

"No," Meliodas says.

"Do it," you say.

Meliodas holds out your hand, and you grab it.

"I'm going to flood you with the energy of the Warp. It should displace the Daemons in your head and lessen the impact of the daemons. Understood?"

"Got it," you say.

You clasp his hand, before pulsing. You feel the power of the Warp flood through you as you convulse, the roar of the Warp drowning out the voices of the daemons. Instead of four loud voices, you hear thousands of faint voices. You feel your left hand burn, but the noise distracts you. After a few minutes, the feeling ends, and you collapse to your knees.

You focus. The voices of Smiley, Fucky, Rotgut and Question Mark are still faint in the back of your head, but they're not overpowering. The main sound is the thousand of whispers and the roar of the Warp, but it's certainly more peaceful.

"Thanks," you say, releasing your breath and relaxing.

You look down at your hand, noticing the eight-pointed star of Chaos Undivided is now burnt into it.

"Ah, so this happened," you say.

"I said there'd be scarring," Meliodas says.

"You never said it'd be a Chaos symbol," you complain.

"Ah... yes, it is," Meliodas shrugs. "Isn't it an improvement?"

You think, realizing the endless voices have now been cut  back, before nodding.

"You're right. Thanks," you say.

"Alright, let me go back to my rituals," Meliodas says.

"OK. Thanks, Meliodas," you say, turning and walking off.
> You continue
You walk along the hallways, alongside a young, former slave who looks to be barely out of his teens.

"Timothey J. Hawkins, sir. I tr..." he says happily.

"I don't give a fuck. You're the best shuttle pilot we have, correct?" you reply.

"Well sir, I've admittedly accomplished a few tasks, but I'm not sure about that. I did manage to land Kyros' Bloody Claws onto a sp..."

"You're the man Hayes recommended, yes?" you respond, as you stop outside the war room.

"Yes, sir. The..."

"Terrific. Outfit the shuttle in whatever way suits your piloting style, I'll provide the funds. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Perfect. That's it, then," you say.

"Yes, sir! Thank you for the opportunity! I promise I won't let you down!"

Finally, you bid Hawkins goodbye, whilst knowing he won't last a week. You walk forward, to where Fay waits outside the war room.

"Hey, Karth. You ready to deal with Kyros' allies?" he says.

You wrap an arm around her, kissing her on the lips.

"Ready to take on the galaxy," you smile. "How about you?"

"Of course," she replies.

The two of you walk into the war room, to find the rest of your lieutenants are already here. Today, you need to deal with Kyros' allies.

"What'd I miss?" you ask.

"Nothing. Ready to begin the debriefing," Primus says.

"Do it," you reply.

"Understood. The issue we have to deal with is Kyros' former allies. Kyros did not plan to take Terra alone. He had made pacts with dozens of warbands, made deals with endless mercenary outfits, gained pledges of support from Xenos empires and made countless more alliances."

"Are these issues?" Fay asks, her head resting on the stock of her bolter.

"To a degree. Most pacts were built on weak ground on the unsaid assumption that either party would turn on the other if given the chance, and now that Kyros is no more they're void and useless. Other parties have had changes in power due to coups or rebellions and their new leaders have no loyalty to Kyros. The only potential threats that could harm us are the Children of Apep, the Tau Empire, the Kabal of the Bleeding Thorn and the Dogs of War."

"Who are they?" you ask.

"The Children of Apep are a Chaos Warband led by Khalid the Despised. Made up of a strong inner-circle of Thousand Sons Space Marines, they now control a small fleet that reigns control over an alliance of a few worlds, space stations and outposts. They have a heavy amount of Psykers, and could potentially use their combined psychic powers to threaten our position," Primus says.

"Who else?" you ask.

"The Tau Empire are a fairly large empire of Xenos species with advanced technology. They..."

"I've heard of them. They were allied to Kyros?"

"We're unsure of that. It seems they did provide funding for a few of Kyros raids against Imperial worlds. Kyros seemed to have made a noted effort to avoid Tau interests. Kyros had all other information about them purged. I know nothing more about the relationship, but it's most definitely worth investigating."

"OK. Who else?"

"The Kabal of the Bleeding Thorn is a group of Dark Eldar pirates and raiders led by a mysterious figure known as Merideza who had seemingly forged an alliance with Kyros. They're infamous in this sector for their quick, brutal raids on worlds to enslave the populace. They're a powerful organization based out of the sub-dimension known as the Webway in a city known as Commorragh, where all Dark Eldar stay. Although the species aren't known for their loyalty to former allies, they might see our growth as a potential threat."

"And the others? The Dogs of War?"

"The Dogs of War are a renegade chapter of Space Marines led by Chapter Master Christian Firenaza who went renegade after fighting a vast Tyranid fleet and taking severe losses without any support from the rest of the Imperium. They primarily work as a mercenary outfit. Although technically, only the space marines are the Dogs of War, they now consist of dozens of mercenary outfits that serve under them, all known as the Dogs of War. Although one would assume their mercenary status would mean they won't strike at us if they're not being paid to, loyalty seems to be strong among space marines. They might want to avenge Kyros."

"We need to attempt to negotiate with these factions to secure their loyalty to us, or at least ensure they're not going to attack," you say.

"Understood. The Children of Apep's flagship, the Quill, is collecting tribute from subject worlds and we can easily head there to negotiate. The Tau Empire has a major presence here, and we can most definitely negotiate with them whenever you'd like. The Kabal of the Bleeding Thorn spend little time in realspace, but we can communicate to them through one of the human raider groups that serve them. Finally, the Dogs of War are based out of a massive space station known as the Iron Hound. It's a fairly active space port. We could be there to negotiate soon enough."
> You negotiate with the factions
Well then, you have the psychic-heavy Children of Apep, the large and advanced Tau Empire, the Dark Eldar raiders the Kabal of the Bleeding Thorn and the mercenary outfit the Dogs of War.
> You visit the Children of Apep
"Alright, connecting..." your pilot says, as the ship attaches to the bays of the Quill. All your lieutenants stand around you. Immediately, you spot a trio of space marines clad in blue with yellow trim marching towards you. Those on either side are helmeted with a crest behind their head and holding bolters in their hands. The one in the middle has no helmet, instead wearing ornate golden robes over his power armor, holding a bolt pistol golden staff topped with a snake, with two Sapphires as the eyes. You rarely see a space marine with his helmet off. This man has short blond hair and a clean-shaven face.

"Ah! Kyros' over-throwers, is it? I..." the marine says, before stopping to stare at Meliodas. "You.... ah, I sense it now. A daemon, is it? Tell me, were you trapped inside Kyros' skull for all the times I met with him?"

"No, I've just moved in," Meliodas replies, as the marine nods.

"I am Khalid the Despised," the marine says, as his two guards stare blankly at you.

"My name's Karth," you reply. "This is Meliodas, Cain, Castus, Olive, Fay, Durge, Elizabeth, John the Hermit, Captain Hayes and Elios."

"Fuck, did you really need to bring the whole crew?" Khalid asks, staring at your lieutenants.

Khalid strolls along the line, nodding slowly as if he expected this.

"Yes, yes... at least you got rid of that crazy Khornate bitch. Still, you kept the sentient Slaaneshi dildo, the morbidly obese sore, the failure for a psyker and the jar-head. Oh look, you've a few more to your roster. A... I don't even know what this freak is," he says, staring at Cain. "Then we have a mutant who deserves to become dust like my own, a bunch of kids and the daemon who can't find a better crew. A pathetic group if I've ever seen one."

Khalid steps back, as most of you stare at him in shock. Only the Staine Siblings and Hayes seem unsurprised.

"How fucking dare you?" Fay says, as she raises her bolter to point at Khalid's head.

"Oh, you must be one of the shit-eating, backwater Ferals that Kyros tried to turn into a super-soldier, right? Tell me, are you pregnant by your father, your brother or your cousin? Who am I kidding, with a planet like you came from, he's probably all three," Khalid smiles.
> You blow this bastard's head off with a blast of psychic energy
You fire a bolt of psychic energy that slams into Khalid's head. You feel a wave of psychic energy flood through your skull before your head explodes.


"Alright, connecting..." your pilot says, as the ship attaches to the bays of the Quill. All your lieutenants stand around you. Immediately, you spot a trio of space marines clad in blue with yellow trim marching towards you. Those on either side are helmeted with a crest behind their head and holding bolters in their hands. The one in the middle has no helmet, instead wearing ornate golden robes over his power armor, holding a bolt pistol golden staff topped with a snake, with two Sapphires as the eyes. You rarely see a space marine with his helmet off. This man has short blond hair and a clean-shaven face.

"Ah! Kyros' over-throwers, is it? I..." the marine says, before stopping to stare at Meliodas. "You.... ah, I sense it now. A daemon, is it? Tell me, were you trapped inside Kyros' skull for all the times I met with him?"

"No, I've just moved in," Meliodas replies, as the marine nods.

"I am Khalid the Despised," the marine says, as his two guards stare blankly at you.

"My name's Karth," you reply. "This is Meliodas, Cain, Castus, Olive, Fay, Durge, Elizabeth, John the Hermit, Captain Hayes and Elios."

"Fuck, did you really need to bring the whole crew?" Khalid asks, staring at your lieutenants.

Khalid strolls along the line, nodding slowly as if he expected this.

"Yes, yes... at least you got rid of that crazy Khornate bitch. Still, you kept the sentient Slaaneshi dildo, the morbidly obese sore, the failure for a psyker and the jar-head. Oh look, you've a few more to your roster. A... I don't even know what this freak is," he says, staring at Cain. "Then we have a mutant who deserves to become dust like my own, a bunch of kids and the daemon who can't find a better crew. A pathetic group if I've ever seen one."

Khalid steps back, as most of you stare at him in shock. Only the Staine Siblings and Hayes seem unsurprised.

"How fucking dare you?" Fay says, as she raises her bolter to point at Khalid's head.

"Oh, you must be one of the shit-eating, backwater Ferals that Kyros tried to turn into a super-soldier, right? Tell me, are you pregnant by your father, your brother or your cousin? Who am I kidding, with a planet like you came from, he's probably all three," Khalid smiles.
> You set this tool alight
You let a wave of psychic flames release from your finger tips that quickly set his robes alight. Suddenly, the wave of heat floods through your body as you set alight, and you quickly burst into flames and are soon turned to ash.


"Alright, connecting..." your pilot says, as the ship attaches to the bays of the Quill. All your lieutenants stand around you. Immediately, you spot a trio of space marines clad in blue with yellow trim marching towards you. Those on either side are helmeted with a crest behind their head and holding bolters in their hands. The one in the middle has no helmet, instead wearing ornate golden robes over his power armor, holding a bolt pistol golden staff topped with a snake, with two Sapphires as the eyes. You rarely see a space marine with his helmet off. This man has short blond hair and a clean-shaven face.

"Ah! Kyros' over-throwers, is it? I..." the marine says, before stopping to stare at Meliodas. "You.... ah, I sense it now. A daemon, is it? Tell me, were you trapped inside Kyros' skull for all the times I met with him?"

"No, I've just moved in," Meliodas replies, as the marine nods.

"I am Khalid the Despised," the marine says, as his two guards stare blankly at you.

"My name's Karth," you reply. "This is Meliodas, Cain, Castus, Olive, Fay, Durge, Elizabeth, John the Hermit, Captain Hayes and Elios."

"Fuck, did you really need to bring the whole crew?" Khalid asks, staring at your lieutenants.

Khalid strolls along the line, nodding slowly as if he expected this.

"Yes, yes... at least you got rid of that crazy Khornate bitch. Still, you kept the sentient Slaaneshi dildo, the morbidly obese sore, the failure for a psyker and the jar-head. Oh look, you've a few more to your roster. A... I don't even know what this freak is," he says, staring at Cain. "Then we have a mutant who deserves to become dust like my own, a bunch of kids and the daemon who can't find a better crew. A pathetic group if I've ever seen one."

Khalid steps back, as most of you stare at him in shock. Only the Staine Siblings and Hayes seem unsurprised.

"How fucking dare you?" Fay says, as she raises her bolter to point at Khalid's head.

"Oh, you must be one of the shit-eating, backwater Ferals that Kyros tried to turn into a super-soldier, right? Tell me, are you pregnant by your father, your brother or your cousin? Who am I kidding, with a planet like you came from, he's probably all three," Khalid smiles.
> You attempt to take a more peaceful approach
"Look... Khalid. The galaxy's a harsh place."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you learn that from your tiny fucking amount of experience in the world?" Khalid says.

You stare at the psyker as he runs his hands through his hair.

"I wanted... an alliance," you say.

"Ter-fucking-rfic," Khalid the Despised says. "Follow me."

You look at your lieutenants. The slave leaders; Fay, Olive, Castus and Cain are all shocked, while Elios, Durge, Elizabeth and Hayes seem indifferent.

"His attitude has improved," Elizabeth notes.

"Is that a joke?" Olive asks, staring at her.

"No. You should've seen him last time," Elizabeth says. "Come on, let's follow."

You follow after Khalid, and soon follow him into a large library. Khalid points his staff, and a dozen large chairs float over. He sits down into one of them, looking up at you.

"I assume you're here about the psyker, yes?" he asks.

"Uh... what psyker?"

Khalid the Despised rolls his eyes, gently tapping his staff against the ground in annoyance.

"A new psyker has supposedly risen to power in the sector. We're talking a psyker of amazing power. Tremendous power. He's seemingly pledged as the greatest champion of the renegade Chaos God, Malice. I assume you want to make an alliance to take him out."

"No... although I'll look into it. I'm taking Kyros' place as a military power, and rebuilding. I want to secure my alliance with you."

"Ah, a little kid playing dress-up in the robes of his master, yes? Why should I ally with you?"

"Do you have many other offers of alliance?" you ask.

"Fair point," Khalid admits. "Yes, I want to ally with you."

"Oh, that was easy. Shall we discuss military strength? Under my com..."

"I know," Khalid nods. "You understand the amount of knowledge my spies give me? I have quite a few spies on your ship, and that's not even taking into account my psykers trained in Divination. It might seem I'm answering far too quickly. I'm not. I foresaw you coming to ask, did my research, did what I need. I decided what was to be agreed here a while back. What I've not learned is whether I can trust you. So, I have an offer. A Binding Contract."

"A binding contract?" you ask.

"Did Kyros teach you anything other than to take a dick? A binding contract is done brwteen two individuals with strong psychic abilities. We make a contract, binding our very souls to it to be relinquished should we break it."

"What's the contract?"

"We pledge to remain loyal to each other, absolutely no aggression, come to each others aid, yadda yadda yadda. The details are mental. The words don't matter so much as the spirit behind them."

"What do I do?" you ask.

"Just shake my hand. I'll say the incantation, and our minds will meet. You'll be able to search my mind for mistrust, as I will for you. Are we agreed?"
> You agree
You nod, holding out your hand. Khalid grabs you by the hand, and stares into your eyes.

"This'll be simple enough. Just don't resist. Understood?"

"Got it," you say.

"With the Dark Gods, the Corpse-Emperor himself and anyone else out their with the power to oversee this bargain, I pledge these two souls together by the binding contract, that we will remain allies into all ways possible. Should we break this contract, let our souls be forfeit."

You hear the chattering of thousands of daemonic voices as they watch your deal. You feel your mind be flooded into by Khalid's, as consciousness, in the way normal humans feel it, fade.

You find yourself floating in a void, surrounded by an ever-shifting mass of golden energy, that seem to make up Khalid. You look around, as you see his thoughts floating around you. You reach out your hand, touching the thought screams as you hear Khalid's voice boom.

"Is the big freak literate? Is it even sentient? I would think not. If I had to look at that face in the mirror every morning I'd kill myself."

You frown, touching another.

"Is the dumbass seriously using Kyros' former lieutenants, those who enslaved his people, as his lieutenants? He saw them betray Kyros! And now the dumbass is reading your thoughts, no doubt learning that while I'll remain loyal to him, he's a fucking wanker."

You touch another one.

"You, Karth Uwais, are ugly. See? I'm not even slightly lying."

Well, you've got what you need from his thoughts. Still, in the golden fog of energy, you can see what you assume are memories drifting around. You see his staff floating through the void before disappearing, before you see a wolf bound through the fog. You can hear distant screams emanate through the fog from some horrifying memory. You see Kyros march across the fog and step back nervously despite knowing he's only a memory.
> You follow the staff
You walk after the staff, as the darkness manifests itself into a massive forge. You smell the oil and grease of the forge, feel the heat of the forges, taste the taste of copper in the air, hear the screeching of metal. A younger version of Khalid clad in red and gold power armor works on his staff, sculpting the snakes that intertwine it. Another space marine with the same color scheme walks into the forge, grinning.

"Khalid! What are you forging there, friend?"

"I call it the Staff of Khalid," Khalid says proudly, holding it up.

"Ah, what humility!" the second marine says. "What great abilities has it?"

"Glad you asked, Narmer. It can act as a simple director of power, but more importantly, it can redirect psychic attacks back at the opponent. Unless they specifically know of the staff's powers, they should suffer the full effect of the action."

"Fascinating," Narmer says. "I..."

The room gently fades back into complete darkness.


You nod, holding out your hand. Khalid grabs you by the hand, and stares into your eyes.

"This'll be simple enough. Just don't resist. Understood?"

"Got it," you say.

"With the Dark Gods, the Corpse-Emperor himself and anyone else out their with the power to oversee this bargain, I pledge these two souls together by the binding contract, that we will remain allies into all ways possible. Should we break this contract, let our souls be forfeit."

You hear the chattering of thousands of daemonic voices as they watch your deal. You feel your mind be flooded into by Khalid's, as consciousness, in the way normal humans feel it, fade.

You find yourself floating in a void, surrounded by an ever-shifting mass of golden energy, that seem to make up Khalid. You look around, as you see his thoughts floating around you. You reach out your hand, touching the thought screams as you hear Khalid's voice boom.

"Is the big freak literate? Is it even sentient? I would think not. If I had to look at that face in the mirror every morning I'd kill myself."

You frown, touching another.

"Is the dumbass seriously using Kyros' former lieutenants, those who enslaved his people, as his lieutenants? He saw them betray Kyros! And now the dumbass is reading your thoughts, no doubt learning that while I'll remain loyal to him, he's a fucking wanker."

You touch another one.

"You, Karth Uwais, are ugly. See? I'm not even slightly lying."

Well, you've got what you need from his thoughts. Still, in the golden fog of energy, you can see what you assume are memories drifting around. You see his staff floating through the void before disappearing, before you see a wolf bound through the fog. You can hear distant screams emanate through the fog from some horrifying memory. You see Kyros march across the fog and step back nervously despite knowing he's only a memory.
> You follow the wolf
You walk after the wolf, as it howls skyward and runs. You head forward, as it begins to morph into a strange space marine wearing an ancient power armor, with a wolf hide over his shoulder. The scene changes to a battleground, as you watch as similar space marines fight against those clad in the red and gold Khalid wore.

You see Khalid fighting, as he ducks under a bolter round. He fires a burst of flames, engulfing another wolf-marine who howls in pain, collapsing.

"Death to traitors!" a voice howls from the wolf-marines.

"You will not kill my brothers! You will not destroy my planet!" Khalid roars. "You don't understand! Horus is the traitor!"

A wolf-marine attempts to kill Khalid with his chainsword, but Khalid kills him with a burst of energy.

"STOP! The Emperor wouldn't do this to us! We are loyal! We're your brothers! Please!" Khalid screams.

Suddenly, a massive pyramid materializes next to yous. Thousands of civilians are fleeing up the ramps inside. Then, a massive explosion tears through it, as a fireball engulfs all the civilians inside and fleeing into it.

"NO!" Khalid screams, as a cry of "Traitor!" comes from both sides.

With that, Khalid lets out a fierce scream of psychic energy, charging forward. The room gently fades to black.


You nod, holding out your hand. Khalid grabs you by the hand, and stares into your eyes.

"This'll be simple enough. Just don't resist. Understood?"

"Got it," you say.

"With the Dark Gods, the Corpse-Emperor himself and anyone else out their with the power to oversee this bargain, I pledge these two souls together by the binding contract, that we will remain allies into all ways possible. Should we break this contract, let our souls be forfeit."

You hear the chattering of thousands of daemonic voices as they watch your deal. You feel your mind be flooded into by Khalid's, as consciousness, in the way normal humans feel it, fade.

You find yourself floating in a void, surrounded by an ever-shifting mass of golden energy, that seem to make up Khalid. You look around, as you see his thoughts floating around you. You reach out your hand, touching the thought screams as you hear Khalid's voice boom.

"Is the big freak literate? Is it even sentient? I would think not. If I had to look at that face in the mirror every morning I'd kill myself."

You frown, touching another.

"Is the dumbass seriously using Kyros' former lieutenants, those who enslaved his people, as his lieutenants? He saw them betray Kyros! And now the dumbass is reading your thoughts, no doubt learning that while I'll remain loyal to him, he's a fucking wanker."

You touch another one.

"You, Karth Uwais, are ugly. See? I'm not even slightly lying."

Well, you've got what you need from his thoughts. Still, in the golden fog of energy, you can see what you assume are memories drifting around. You see his staff floating through the void before disappearing, before you see a wolf bound through the fog. You can hear distant screams emanate through the fog from some horrifying memory. You see Kyros march across the fog and step back nervously despite knowing he's only a memory.
> You follow the screams
You walk after the sounds of screams, and find yourself surrounded by chaos. Khalid stands alongside his fellow space marines, although they writhe and convulse in pain. One of the space marines screams as he tears his helmet off, revealing dozens of eyes growing on his head. Another marine looks in horror at the spine-like tumors growing from your arm, shattering his armor. You notice Khalid's mutations as his skin bubbles and blisters as if exposed to a flame, as his eyes melts out of his face as tiny mouths replace them, tentacles emerging from his back and flailing desperately.

Suddenly, you see a blast of magic run through the area. You turn, seeing a space marine with black horns coming out of his helmet reading a tome.

The men begin to course, as their mutations begins receding. Khalid's mutations retreat into his body or burn away from the magic, as the youthful Khalid is remade. Still, not everyone is as fortunate. The space marines around him have their mutations burn away, but the psychic energy doesn't stop. Their bodies begin to shift and fall apart as they turn to dust. They power armor reforges itself around them, trapping the dust inside.

For a moment, Khalid seems relieved as he looks down at his unmutated form. Then, he sees his brothers. He grabs a space marine next to him, holding him closely.

"Narmer! Narmer, what's become of you!? NARMER!"

The room once more fades to darkness.