Warhammer: Opening is a Crisis of Doom

Industrial gears are intertwined, their sharp teeth are constantly crushing flesh and blood, and all souls and demons are devoured.

If you are not full, the forge howls the flames of hunger, seeds are born in the heat of the furnace, and alchemy boils blood to create vitality.

——

Creator of Vashtor.

War rages in the realm of the living in the Warp.

The angry roar of the plague god echoed in the warp.

The physical universe's invasion of the warp is gradually increasing.

The eternal war that lasted for an unknown number of billions of years will end in this life.

Khorne's bloodthirsty demon army clashed fiercely with the one-horned demons at the edge of the swamp. The latter gathered from all directions like insects guarding their nests, and the two forces fiercely bit each other.

At the same time, the mad knights under Slaanesh launched a charge on the muddy and rotting but lush grassland.

With screams, the disciples of Tzeentch in flying saucers cast fireballs on the gathering place of Nurgle's demons, igniting the whole world.

The three gods broke their promises and launched an attack in other directions in the plague god's domain.

They had entered into a short-lived pact to ally against Guilliman as before.

But it doesn't mean they will drop the gap between each other.

The hatred between them is far greater than the hatred between them and humans.

Pairs of evil eyes are staring at each other. Once there is a weakness, it will inevitably lead to a devastating blow that will never be restored.

The rise of Guilliman made the three gods realize that the control of this universe is very likely to change hands, and the key is to compete for the most critical gate of eternity.

The invasion of the empire and the betrayal of the three gods caused the domain of the plague god to suffer endless wars, and traces of destruction can be seen everywhere.

Vashtor stood on the side of the empire, using his talents and abilities to quickly gain Corax's approval.

It launched a series of plans such as demon loans and contracts, which made the empire's subspace organization stronger and stronger, and its control over demons became stronger and stronger.

Vashtor, with the help of the Empire, restructured the occult industrial realm known as the Forge of Souls.

The true self of this guy is the embodiment of "creativity without conscience and order".

It is an aggregate born of invention, innovation, reform and innovation.

The progress of any civilization brings strength to it.

If it hadn't been sealed by those powerful civilizations during the ancient war, it might have become a powerful, omniscient and omnipotent god.

"You will pay the price, monster. The wrath of your father will be upon you, and you will sink into eternal torment."

The dragged unicorn made a final threat before being thrown into the fiery furnace.

There was a piercing smile on Vashtor's mechanical face.

Its body is covered with growing mechanical limbs, and gears and pistons are moving in its body.

A red light radiated from the chest, and a star was compressed and placed at its heart.

The surging hot star energy surges along the ducts all over the body, making various body parts more active.

"Do you think I care? You little maggot under Nurgle." Vashtor said coldly: "There are so many people who want to seek revenge on me, but they are all gone now, and I Still standing in front of you."

Vashtor moved his huge and bloated body out of the palace full of decay.

The roar of the unicorn behind him quickly turned into a howl full of pain and fear.

Vashtor paid no attention to the little devil.

The opponent quickly lost itself under the torment of the furnace, and then was stuffed into its carefully designed machine, becoming a demonic vehicle that only knew destruction and combat.

Another palace belonging to Nurgle has fallen.

The mechanical puppets and the demons who were forced to sign countless usury contracts are reshaping this area under the whip of the supervisor, and shaping the plague garden into a melting furnace industrial world.

The battlefield is littered with wreckage and burning abandoned vehicles.

Billowing black smoke rose up, mixed with the unique green weapon of Nurgle Domain, covering the colorful chaotic void.

The carefully calculated core of the furnace was quickly erected.

Masses of machinery lay in the muddy ruins of rotting vegetation and slimy fungus.

Abandoned, desolate, fungus-infested ruins are gradually being replaced by dark, smoky mountains made of steel and concrete.

Great steel towers rose from the dark mountains, and they spewed billowing clouds of black smoke that blotted out the sky.

Blackened steel covered the crimson cliffs, and the peaks plunged into dark clouds.

The base of the mountain is surrounded by boulders and metal debris.

The ground was cracked and covered with ash and iron filings.

This is the transformation of the realm between different gods.

The gods of Nurgle lost this area, and Vashtor gained it.

The air, filled with the smell of rotting fungi, was replaced by a pungent chemical smell.

What flows in the river is no longer foul-smelling sewage and rotting silt, but hot, corrosive slag.

This is a war between gods and gods, and the transformation between realms is also part of the war.

God's power comes from believers and domains, and any weakening of the two will lead to the weakening of God's power.

The god of Nurgle was weakened in the process, and Vashtor was strengthened.

Seeing this, the God of Mechanics nodded in satisfaction.

If it continues like this, it will be able to devour more Nurgle's origin and achieve itself.

Perhaps, it can also replace the opponent's influence in this universe and become a true, omniscient and omnipotent god.

Vashtor looked greedily at the rotting mountains in the distance.

Its task is to lead the mechanical demon legion to launch an attack from a place different from the main attack direction of the empire, weakening the resistance of the main offensive line of defense.

This task, it has done very well.

Vashtor plans to make it even better.

As long as it consumes the power of the god of Nurgle, it can become stronger than ever before.

At that time, it is not impossible to enslave human beings in turn.

It is not unimaginable for the human emperor to kneel in front of it and beg for forgiveness.

Imagine that Corax and his hateful brother, who were so tall at the beginning, knelt in front of him and kissed his metal feet in order to survive. That was definitely the pinnacle of Mosheng.

It began to calculate the probability of victory in attacking the rotten mountain.

Vashtor is a very strange existence.

It is said to be a subspace creature, but it relies on the machinery of the real universe to gain power.

Even when fighting, they rarely use methods such as divination, but use calculations, which seem to be completely unscientific for demons.

To calculate the probability of victory in a war in the realm of the gods, many factors need to be considered.

Nurgle is an extremely terrifying existence.

What is located in this universe is just a projection.

The horror of the all-knowing and omnipotent is far beyond the imagination of mortal beings.

Their existence has affected all aspects of the subspace, and even the universe of the heavens.

The stories and legends about them are not groundless, but a manifestation of their powerful influence.

When an ignorant creature conjures up a name or image that he has never seen before in his mind, it is very likely that it is a reflection of a powerful existence.

Its image will spread through the tidal waves of the ether to every universe.

Vashtor fed all the data into his core and correlated it, established cross-referencing and triangulation, and formed a layout map of the battlefield.

The data unfolded in Vashtor's consciousness, flowing quickly.

After waiting for a long time, it stopped and opened its eyes to look at the rotting mountains in the distance.

"You've got to get more for me," Vashtor growled.

The mechanical golems and daemonic vehicles advanced amidst its roar, howling in agony, longing for release and thirsting for blood.

They have been lured into huge debts, and they have to fight constantly to pay the interest on the heavy debts.

Being bound in a demonic vehicle is not very friendly to demons.

These guys also tend to be more violent, requiring whips and restraints to keep them from attacking allies.

Vashtor enslaves this huge army, and fights towards the rotting mountain in the distance.

New battles soon broke out.

Vashtor pounced on the defenders of Nurgle's domain like a hungry wolf, trying to tear a piece of flesh from Nurgle's body again to satisfy the black hole-like hunger.

Through the vision device of the helmet, some moving figures in the thick fog can be barely recognized.

There are also the silhouettes of buildings in the distance shrouded in shadow.

Like other buildings, the Plague God's realm is filled with rot, fungus, and fetid sewage.

Those fanatics with twisted minds will always use the help of the mist to attack the imperial soldiers with simple weapons.

"Another troublesome battle." Loken said in a deep voice.

"But isn't that what we mean?" Torgaden's voice came from the communication, accompanied by the sound of bombs exploding and swords colliding.

The power of the plague god prevented the empire from continuing to use high-altitude bombing and other barbaric methods to achieve victory.

This battle of killing gods can only be won with the most primitive fighting methods of primitive tribal humans.

That method is infantry close combat, a fighting method that humans have learned when they walked down from the trees.

Ancient but extremely effective.

"For the Holy Empire, for the Holy Emperor." Loken shouted: "We have nothing to fear, Luna Wolf, and move on."

Such slogans are brand new to these reborn Heroic Spirits.

They didn't shout smoothly, and it took a certain amount of time to get used to it.

I don't know how many years I have been asleep, but when I woke up, I found that the empire had changed a lot.

The Emperor is no longer there, and the former Thirteen has become the new Lord of Humanity.

More or less will feel some discomfort.

Surrounding Loken, there are dozens of shadow moon wolves who have returned from summoning.

Most of them were Loyalist fighters who died in the Battle of Psalm City on Planet Isstvan III.

The resurgence of these warriors was a great taunt to Abaddon.

At the beginning, he stood firmly on the side of Horus, killing these loyal fighters.

Now these warriors have returned one by one to fight for the empire again.

Everything he did was reduced to a joke.

Lorgar was like eating a fly.

These returned warriors all spoke in unison, saying that the Holy Word was written by Guilliman.

Are they deluded by lard?

Such shameless collective lying! !

Is there any reason?

Is there anything more shameless than this?

What makes Lorgar even more disgusting is that Guilliman continues to resurrect those dead heroes to break the cycle of life and death.

If only Guilliman gave people eternity! !

Then his behavior of stubbornly propagating the ideas of the gods and trying to break the truth of the empire at the beginning seems like a big fool* now.

"I saw the target." The voice of Guard-Markaide came.

He was a Loyalist soldier who died on Isstvan III.

Returning in the Heroic Spirit Project, he joined the Luna Wolves founded by Loken and Torgaddon, vowing to use his sword to cleanse the shame that the traitors brought to the name Luna Wolves.

"Get ready, a new wave." Loken said in a deep voice: "Check your equipment and make sure you are all in good condition. This field has a special magical power that distorts and devours our souls."

The horrors of Nurgle's realm are enough to corrupt unsuspecting mortals in an instant, twisting them into one of his minions.

With Loken as the core, the returning Shadow Moon Wolves stepped forward.

Stepping on the potholed mud, approaching the enemy.

The first to emerge from the mists were the shambling dead.

They are not really dead, but imprisoned.

There is no real death in Nurgle's realm.

Their souls are trapped in their rotting bodies, never to be released.

The rotting mouth can still make a weird roar.

Their flesh was rotting, their viscera exposed, their green flesh exposed through their tattered clothing.

According to the rules of the real universe, such a creature would never be able to move.

Only where the power of the Warp rages can they walk like this.

Among the walking corpses, there are fanatics with weapons.

Nurgle's realm is not devoid of living creatures.

They were dragged into the realm, adapted to the misery of the world, and even reproduced.

That is, the weird appearance is very different from the original race.

Worshipers also push chariots of rotting giant logs and slimy chain-ropes burning with eerie green fire.

The plague drones hovered in the air, and the plague vehicles belonging to Nurgle rumbled behind the walking corpses, eager to kill on the battlefield.

"Kill them all," Loken said.