Welter woke up with Salme cuddled up tightly to him. He started to get up, but Salme woke up instantly, as if she had never been fully asleep.
"Noo... don't go. Just ten more minutes," she pleaded.
Welter sighed and laid back down. As he rested, he asked in his mind, "System, can you generate a world?"
System: Of course. But would you like a deal?
Welter thought about it. "Um... sure. Why so many deals lately?"
System: Because I can. The deal is two worlds, but... you will not gain any points for your next 20 kills. It could be a lot of points, or it could be just 1 point per kill.
Welter thought it over while Salme rubbed affectionately against his neck, among other things. "Jeez, a bit needy today... but yes, System. I'll take the deal."
System: Agreed. Someone is very needy right now anyway. Worlds are being generated...
• World 1: Warhammer 40k — Lone Space Marine Start / Own ChapterWorld 2: Demon Slayer — Unique Demon StartWelter pondered the choices. "Hmm, World 2 would be interesting, but Warhammer 40k will give me way more kills. Fuck it, World 1."
He tapped World 1 on his system screen, and his vision immediately shifted into the body of a uniquely customized Space Marine.
Welter's Space Marine Appearance (Head to Toe):
Helmet: White with three red-painted claw marks over the left eye.
Breastplate: Black with gold trimming; a rope adorned with teeth, claws, small metal pieces, and small skulls drapes across the upper chest.
Pack: White, featuring two wolf symbols facing away from each other with a red diamond in the middle.
Right Pauldron: White with gold trimming; features a large white wolf head underlined by a rope of teeth, claws, small metal pieces, and small skulls wrapping all the way around.
Left Pauldron: Black with gold trimming; features a golden wolf insignia.
Right Gauntlet: Black upper arm with a white fist.
Left Gauntlet: White upper arm featuring a tube on the elbow that feeds into a small wrist-computer; black fist.
Right Hip: A human skull held by two ropes threaded through its eye sockets. One rope connects to a golden cup adorned with a fluffy white fox tail. The other rope connects to a large gold coin and a second gold cup bearing a large claw.
Left Greave: Completely white with utility pouches on the thigh.
Right Greave: Completely black with a small black wolf head symbol on the knee; utility pouch on the thigh.
"What kind of Space Marine am I?" Welter muttered to himself.
He finally took a proper look around his surroundings. He was standing inside a massive, cavernous chamber. "A Hive City or a spaceship?" Welter thought. He checked his armaments and realized he was carrying a master-crafted Instigator bolt carbine, a combat knife, and a neo-volkite pistol.
"Hmm, I'm a Vanguard marine then," he realized. He located his grappling hook and began exploring the area. So far, it seemed completely abandoned.
He eventually reached a massive door. It was as tall as he was and left slightly ajar. Welter pulled the heavy doors apart to find a squad of Cadian Imperial Guardsmen. They looked up at him with an intense mixture of raw determination and fear.
"My Lord... are you an Emperor's Angel?" their leader asked.
Welter nodded, his voice echoing with authority. "Yes, Guardsmen."
The Cadians began whispering urgently among themselves. "I've never seen one of the Emperor's Angels wear multiple kinds of armor color like that..."
Welter broke their whispering, his voice deep and heavily filtered through his helmet's vox-grille. "Where is this place?"
A Cadian Guardsman stepped forward, saluting. "My Lord, we are on Cadia. We lost our Commissar, so we were on our way to regroup when you found us."
Welter nodded. "I see."
The Cadian volunteered information with no questions asked. "It is 999.M41, my Lord. We have just received major reinforcements."
Welter was internally shocked. Cadia would fall soon, but with his system, he might actually be able to help the planet survive. "Take me to your command element, Guardsman."
The Guardsman nodded quickly. The group began running through the twists and turns of the massive Cadian fortress until they reached a wide, heavily fortified bridge being held by a defensive line of Guardsmen. A Commissar walked up to them, looking astonished. "An Emperor's Angel? The Adeptus Astartes aren't supposed to arrive for a few hours."
Welter looked down at the Commissar. "What is the tactical report?"
The Commissar looked across the bridge grimly. "Chaos cultists and traitorous Imperial Guard are trying to force their way across the bridge. We've even spotted a few Chaos Marines, but no enemy vehicles have hit our line yet."
System: Player is located in a command base and holds the highest level of strategic authority.
Available Infrastructure:
Vehicle Depot: Cadian Guardsmen
Barracks: Cadian Guardsmen
Space Marines Available: 2x(Note: These Space Marines will share your exact chapter colors. Their appearance is as follows:)
Helmet: White
Breastplate: Black with a golden wolf insignia
Pack: White with two wolf symbols facing away from each other and a red diamond in the middle
Right Pauldron: White
Left Pauldron: Black with a golden wolf insignia (Space Wolves Champion style) and gold trimming
Right Gauntlet: Black arm with a white fist
Left Gauntlet: White arm with a black fist
Left Greave: Fully whiteRight Greave: Fully black
System: Production Options Available:
Vehicle Depot (Cadian):
• 1x Multi-Laser Sentinel
• 1x Leman Russ Battle Tank
• 1x Leman Russ Punisher
Barracks (Cadian):
• 20x Cadian Guardsmen with Lasguns
• 4x Cadian Guardsmen with Plasma Guns
• Heavy Squad: Cadian Guardsmen with 2x Heavy Stubbers, 4x Hotshot Lasguns
• 6x Combat Engineers
Welter immediately ordered his reinforcements. He summoned his two Astartes, who fell straight from the sky in a compact drop pod. The pod slammed violently into the ground, the doors exploding outward as the two Space Marines stepped into the light, looking incredibly cool in their matching chapter colors.
Welter glanced over at a new prompt on his screen.
System: RTS Mode is now available. You may switch back and forth between Ground Mode and RTS Mode at will.
Welter's eyes widened. "What am I in? Is this Warhammer 40k mixed with a Dawn of War RTS game?"
He quickly toggled into RTS Mode. His perspective shifted to a top-down tactical view, showing his own character model along with the surrounding Cadian troops. He selected his two production buildings and clicked the build icons, setting up a massive queue:
• Queue: 40x Cadian Guardsmen with Lasguns (2 minutes per squad of 20)Queue: 2x Leman Russ Battle Tanks (4 minutes each)Queue: 2x Leman Russ Punishers (4 minutes each)Welter switched back to Ground Mode and waited for twenty minutes while his forces materialized. Once they were ready, he set the production buildings to queue up even more troops, ordering the newly spawned armor and infantry to dig in and guard the bridgehead.
With his position secure, Welter and his two Astartes began to cross the bridge. Their heavy boots stepped over a carpet of enemy bodies, filling the air with the wet sound of crunching bone and splattering blood.
"Alright, we need to find exactly where these heretics are coming from," Welter ordered.
They reached a massive inner gate. Suddenly, an autogun round pinged harmlessly off Welter's white helmet. A pack of screaming cultists popped out from the surrounding ruined buildings, but they were instantly blown to pieces by explosive bolter fire. Within seconds, the ambush was entirely neutralized.
Suddenly, a massive, thunderous dent was punched into the reinforced gate from the outside. Then came another, and another. With a horrific screech of tearing metal, a Chaos Dreadnought ripped through the barrier and stepped into the courtyard.
"Brothers!!!" the machine roared, its corrupted vox-grille choking on wet blood, though it was far from dead.
Welter raised his weapon, aiming directly between the thick armor plating protecting its viewing slit. "We are no brothers of yours, disgusting heretic."
The Dreadnought was a nightmare to behold. A massive, mutated bone blade had been forced onto the stump of one arm—corrupted flesh melded seamlessly with cold machine parts into a gross amalgamation of pure, endless pain. Its other arm retained a standard Heavy Onslaught Gatling Cannon, an instrument built to slaughter alien swarms but now turned against the Imperium.
The Gatling cannon spun up, and Welter threw himself into a combat roll to dodge the sudden spew of heavy caliber bullets.
While in motion, he quickly opened his UI and switched to RTS Mode. He box-selected all the Cadian units stationed back at the bridge and ordered them to rush to his position. He then snapped instantly back into Ground Mode and kept firing his bolt carbine.
The Dreadnought ignored him, turning its massive bulk to charge down the other two Astartes. Recognizing the danger, Welter aimed his wrist-launcher and fired his grappling hook, pulling himself directly in front of one of his battle-brothers. He raised his combat knife to parry a ferocious downward swing from the Chaos Dreadnought. The deflect succeeded, turning the bone blade aside, but the sheer force of the impact shattered the grip and sent his knife flying away into the rubble.
As he recovered his stance, his eyes caught the hilt of a glowing power sword still lodged in the Dreadnought's chassis—likely belonging to a loyalist Space Marine the monster had previously butchered. Taking a massive gamble, Welter fired his grappling hook directly around the sword's hilt and yanked it hard toward himself.
The weapon ripped free and flew straight into his gauntlet. "Can't believe that actually worked," Welter muttered.
He raised the power sword just in time to block another heavy bone-blade strike. This time, the energized blade held perfectly against the corruption. Welter's heavy boots dug deep into the metal-plated floor, grinding against the deck, but he held his ground against the beast's weight.
"I'll show you the power of the God-Emperor!" Welter roared.
The other two Astartes backed him up, pouring continuous bolter fire toward the monster's vision slit. However, the Dreadnought simply covered its face with its massive blade-arm, simultaneously swinging its Heavy Onslaught Gatling Cannon directly toward Welter's position. The barrels spun, spewing a devastating hail of lead. Welter dove desperately behind a shattered concrete wall. He quickly checked his top-down RTS display: Three minutes until the Leman Russ tanks arrive!
Refusing to stay pinned, Welter broke cover and charged the Dreadnought once more. He successfully ducked under a sweeping strike of the bone blade, but found himself directly in the tracking path of the spinning Gatling cannon. The weapon erupted, sending a stream of heavy rounds straight into his chest. To his amazement, the bullets simply pinged and bounced harmlessly off his master-crafted armor plating.
The Dreadnought, utterly furious, let out a confused, agonizing howl through its speakers. "Who the fuck... AARRGGHH!!!... made your armor?!"
Welter continued to walk directly through the relentless spew of bullets. Even though his armor held perfectly, the kinetic force of the heavy rounds still acted like a wall, slowing his forward momentum to a crawl.
Suddenly, a data stream flooded his interface.
System: Codex Entry Unlocked — Chapter Lore.
Name: Black Wolves
Tactical Briefing
Audience: Astra Militarum Strategic Commanders
Combat Doctrine: Combat doctrine is heavily centered around aggressive, close-quarters engagements. They exhibit a marked preference for employing assault-oriented forces and utilizing overwhelming blitz tactics aimed at swiftly breaking enemy lines and shattering the enemy in battle. Their strategic focus lies in launching aggressive assaults that capitalize on their inherent strength and combat prowess to secure victory on the battlefield.
By order of the Emperor,
Captain Selena Vossari
Astra Militarum Intelligence Analyst
This document is classified as OMEGA-9. Unauthorized dissemination is punishable by summary execution.
Gene-Stock Assessment: New Generation
The progeny of this Gene-stock purity rating exhibit a progressive approach to genetic refinement. Deliberate efforts have been undertaken to mitigate any identified deficiencies within the Progenitor's genetic template, resulting in noticeable deviations. These Chapters display an inclination towards forging their distinct traditions and crafting unique historical narratives that prioritize advancements and prospects ahead of ancestral ties. While certain connections with the Progenitor Chapter might endure, it is equally probable for the newly formed Chapter to embark on an independent path, unbound by past precedents.
Demeanor Divergence:
Discernible divergence in Demeanor between this chapter and progenitor Space Wolves noted. While Space Wolves epitomize "The Sons of Russ", this chapter exhibits a "Brothers in Battle" mindset. Genetic stability observed; environmental or cultural factors presumed causes. Further analysis and observation recommended for elucidation.
Deficiencies:
Following a meticulous analysis of the Betcher's gland, an irregularity has been identified, directly impacting the vocal characteristics of the Chapter's brethren. Varied manifestations of this deficiency are observed, ranging from some Battle-Brothers speaking only in sibilant whispers to others possessing deep, booming voices or employing an otherworldly cant. This vocal peculiarity, stemming from a malfunction in or related to the Betcher's gland, adds an unsettling and potentially terrifying dimension to the Chapter's auditory presence, affecting both allies and adversaries alike.
Flaw:
Within certain Chapters, a phenomenon known as Hyperchromatic Hubris manifests, wherein an excessive reverence towards their heraldry and colors engulfs their collective psyche. These zealous warriors perceive concealment or camouflage as acts of dishonor, equating them with cowardice. Consequently, they unabashedly don their vibrant hues upon the battlefield, utilizing conspicuous back banners to amplify their visual proclamation amidst the chaos of war. This unwavering commitment to their distinctive pigmentation borders on obsessive, transcending mere pride and impacting their strategic considerations.
By the will of the Omnissiah,
Magos Biologis Decimus Tychron
Welter was completely shocked by the sudden, massive info drop regarding his unit. "WTF! Why did I just get an entire analysis of my chapter?!"
System: It was needed. Now get back to fighting the Chaos Dreadnought.
Welter zoomed back into reality just a fraction of a second too late. The heavy bone blade slammed directly into his chest, throwing him across the courtyard and smashing him hard into a concrete wall. His body slumped helplessly against the rubble.
Ignoring the futile bolter rounds sparking off its rear armor from the other two Astartes, the Dreadnought slowly and deliberately walked up to Welter's broken form. "Why don't you join us, brother?" its vox distorted. "You'll have power far beyond mine."
Welter looked up from the debris, staring right into its corrupted chassis. "Go fuck yourself, heretic."
As the words left his lips, a thunderous roar echoed through the courtyard. Four Imperial tanks drove heavily into the area. The two leading Leman Russ Battle Tanks fired their massive main cannons simultaneously, the explosive shells impacting the Chaos Dreadnought and making it stumble back, forcing it to turn its bulk toward the new armored threat.
"Mortals!" the Dreadnought screamed in pure rage.
Seizing the distraction, Welter sprang up from the rubble and scrambled up the metallic back of the machine. He charged up his neo-volkite pistol to maximum capacity, leaped down onto the front of the Dreadnought, and shoved the barrel directly between the narrow vision slit. He pulled the trigger, blasting the heat and energy directly into the cockpit, instantly rendering everything inside to boiling gore.
The massive machine went completely limp and crashed to the ground.
System: This is your 40th kill. From now on, you will successfully earn points from kills.
Welter let out a heavy sigh, feeling a mix of annoyance at knowing he had missed out on a ton of easy points, and massive relief from defeating such a dangerous, high-tier opponent.
System: Your physical body is currently in autopilot mode, and 5 minutes have passed in the real world. When this world is exited, the exact 10 minutes your girlfriend wanted to sleep will have fully passed.
"Um, okay," Welter thought. "Guess I'll go ahead and check out world two."
System: Generating world...