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- >6TH OF JUNE, 41,944!
- >THE DAEMONS ARE TURNING THE WAR!
- >Which is bad for you.
- >Very, very bad.
- >You were born on the insignificant civilized world of Blacklist.
- >And you were going to die on the insignificant civilized world of Blacklist.
- >”Sergeant Anonymous, sir, the daemons are breaching the city walls!”
- >You look over to the frightened private.
- “We’re positively fucked, Unknown.”
- >Before the private can respond, a sharp and harsh screech echoes through the building you inhabit.
- >”They’re in the damn building, Sargeant!”
- >You don't deign to acknowledge him as you pick up your las-rifle and lean against the side of the door.
- >The other privates and one corporal wordlessly follow suit and begin to bunker down, their rifles trained on the door, awaiting it to open.
- >You stand there for what seems like hours, waiting for the tail tale signs that daemons were going to start flooding the hall.
- >The silence is broken by a distinctly feminine giggle and the faintest clack of nails dancing across a metal wall.
- >You don't dare open the door as the daemonette tracks down the hall, hoping the daemon would not know you were in this room.
- >The tapping stops just outside of the door you were beside.
- >The giggle resounds through the hallway as you grip your rifle hard enough to induce white knuckles.
- >It's suddenly silent, the shallow breathing of you and your men the only sound to hear.
- >You feel something cold stroke your cheek.
- >This prompts you to immediately spin on the spot.
- >”Foolish little human, thinking you can hide from-”
- >She’s immediately cut off by your astounding battle panic.
- “OH MY FUCKING GOD EMPEROR!”
- >You quickly flip your rifle around and bring it down on the daemonette.
- >The wet crack of rifle on flesh alerted you that it worked.
- >The daemon hitting the ground from your wholly unexpected beatdown is the result.
- >You lift your weapon and bring it down on the hit daemon’s head.
- “HOLY FUCK.”
- >The rifle hits her head again.
- “SWEET EMPEROR ON A BIKE!”
- >The rifle lands again as the daemonette weakly brings a claw up to stop the mauling.
- “I DON'T WANNA DIE!”
- >You bring it down again and the daemon’s cranium splatters the ground.
- >The assault stops with you breathing heavily.
- >You lift your head up from staring at the corpse of the monster.
- >The rest of the squad is staring at you slightly gape jawed.
- “What?”
- >You all turn your attention back to the only opening of the room to await either relief or more warp spawn.
- >Hours pass as the screeching picks up, complimented with screams of pain and death.
- >You and your squad haven't moved or made a sound in all that time.
- >With bated breath you finally decide to open the door.
- >You poke your head out and look around, the hall was surprisingly clean.
- >Though the yells and reeeeees stay strong, it is suspiciously quiet.
- >You take a few tentative steps into the hall, ready to retreat back into the room at a moment's notice.
- >It seems clear, as far as you can tell.
- >You signal your squad to stay behind as you go up yet hall.
- >The other doors lay closed, but you're fairly certain no other humans are in this wing.
- >The butt of your rifle begins to release smoke into your face as the daemonette’s blood begins to deteriorate from the realm of the materiel.
- >You sling your rifle to prevent it from blinding you.
- >You stalk down the end of the hall, a door that leads to the main lobby of the building you inhabit.
- >Nothing indicates that any other daemons have been in this hallway, you’re entirely curious.
- >You hit the release on the door and take a look into the lobby.
- >Nothing seems out of the ordinary despite a daemonic incursion slaughtering the city you're in.
- >This all seems so wrong.
- >You begin to feel a little jumpy at the quiet that has suddenly took over the outside.
- >The screaming and other sounds had stopped right when you had passed the door frame.
- >The door to your squad suddenly slams closed.
- “Shit.”
- >You rush to the door to get it open, mashing the release repeatedly.
- >To no avail the door stays closed as your breathing picks up.
- >You attempt to run the front doors, the ones that lead outside, and open them, the same result as before beleaguers you.
- >The other two doors must be just as sealed as these.
- >You put your back on the front door and slide to a sitting position.
- >Today is a shit day.
- >The air in front of you simmers and sizzles.
- >You grab your rifle and bring it to bear.
- >You are human, you will not die lying.
- >A small whoosh indicates something teleporting into the lobby.
- >The first thing you notice is a beak.
- >That's your cue to open fire.
- >You pepper the beak and forming body of a greater daemon of Tzeentch with laser fire.
- >It finishes forming and waits patiently for you to drain your charge.
- >After around 30 seconds, your trigger pulls back to no effect.
- >The massive talon of the Greater daemon reaches down and gently pushes your barrel to the ground.
- >You stare into its insane eyes.
- >”Who is the worst Runic Power?”
- >You're taken a bit off guard at the question.
- “Ahhhhhhhhhh… Nurgle?”
- >You flinch as the thing raises it's talons, presumably to strike you down.
- >Instead clapping floods the room.
- >”Very good! Great! Amazing! Where do you want to be?”
- “Somewhere better than this bloody incursion!”
- >”That can be arranged.”
- >Faster than you can comprehend you're lifted in its claws and chucked into a warp portal that was very suddenly open.
- >You hurdle through the warp, preparing to be RIPPED AND TORN by its various daemons.
- >It doesn't happen.
- >In fact, it's rather peaceful.
- >Like when you tripped balls on that contaminated water.
- >Good times.
- >Your floating through the immaterial is interrupted to bring you back into its opposite.
- >You land on the ground face first and skid into something.
- >Luckily you had a helmet on.
- >You stand and brace yourself against what seems to be a very primitive wooden door.
- >Absently, you open the door and see trees everywhere.
- “Where the hell did that bastard send me?”
- >A voice interrupts your pondering.
- >”Ah, um, s-sir? Why are you in my cottage? Oh my Celestia. Why are you bleeding so much?”
- >You slowly turn to look at whomever is talking to you.
- >You spot a tiny yellow horse.
- >”A-are you going to be OK? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
- “You what, mate?”
- >You promptly tall onto your face and into the depths of unconscious.
- >Fucking blood loss.
- >You awaken with your las rifle /firmly/ gripped in your hands.
- >You cannot feel your hands.
- >You sit up and drag your rifle toward you.
- >This results in an obligatory:
- “Sweet mother of the FUCKING EMPEROR’S TITS.”
- >You lay yourself back down and take a deep breath.
- >You're not dead, you're not restrained.
- >Did you survive the Incursion?
- >You take your vice grip off of the rifle and begin wiggling your fingers.
- >They slowly turn redder and redder.
- >You take the moment to look under the sheets as to why your thighs hurt so much.
- >You've got white gauze wrapped around your thighs.
- >Except it's not white.
- >It's red.
- “What the hell did I do to myself?”
- >A door on the other side of the room swings open.
- >”I can actually answer that, sir.”
- >It's a white horse.
- >You fall back on the bed and bring your hands to your face.
- “What's even happening with my life, tiny xenos horses?”
- >”What was that, sir?”
- “Nothing, nothing.”
- >You wave your hand in a nonchalant manner.
- “But why are my legs so fucked up?”
- >”Well, sir, after we removed your clothes, and socks, how scandalous, we ascertained that you had shaved a few layers of skin off of your legs.”
- “Right. Right. You took off my clothes? All of them?”
- >”Don’t make it sound like that. We had to treat your wound, we can't have infection setting in.”
- >She blushes and bats a hoof.
- >You have an internal struggle between ‘Hey, that's kinda cute’ and ‘FILTHY XENOS’.
- >It cancels out within you.
- “Can I have those back? I don't like being ass naked. Especially in front of xenos.”
- >You mutter the last part.
- >”You can, but they seem to be destroyed for the most part. Though the more solid wither pad barrel thing seems fine.”
- “Alright. It would be nice if you got them for me… Ma’am.”
- >You force politeness into your speech for added urgency.
- >”Unfortunately, we have to keep you at the hospital for a while longer, to make sure the infection doesn't set and to put more salve on your wounds one last time.”
- “Great. What's your name, xeno horse?”
- >”I am Nurse Redheart, though you can call me Red if you want.”
- >She winks and continues.
- >”What's your name?”
- “Sergeant Anonymous.”
- >“Ooooh, a military title. I have to step out for a bit, but in the meantime, I can send in the pony that brought you to the hospital, she seems worried to death.”
- “Fine. Send her in.”
- >You sigh and wave your hand again.
- >They’re xenos, but you remember something about if the xenos help mankind that you don't exterminate them.
- >You think.
- >You only went to church because it was mandatory.
- >Around a minute later a yellow horse with a pink mane stalks in.
- >She looks meek and demure.
- >”You fell down and passed out, A-and I brought you to the hospital. I-I didn't do anything to you, I promise.”
- >You stare at her for a solid minute.
- >That last sentence made you suspicious.
- “Did you put a tracker thingamajig in me?”
- >”A-a what? I didn't put anything any you, I’d never take advantage of a stallion like that!”
- >She whisper shouted that.
- >You squint your eyes harder at her.
- “Right… I suppose I should say thanks for bringing me to a hospital.”
- >”Oh, ummm, you're welcome?”
- >She shrinks back a bit as the intense intensity of your eyes intensely intensifies.
- “Yeahhhh. You can go now.”
- >You swat your hand at her and she starts.
- >With a semi-scared concerned look she leaves the room.
- >You bring your hands to your face again.
- >You've been sent to a land of friendly xenos.
- >The preacher said it would be worse than what you've experienced.
- >Though you doubt what the priest said was just lies.
- >All you've seen is a hospital, after all.
- >It could get a lot worse.
- >After a day longer in the hospital you're finally released.
- >Stepping out of the front door of the hospital was painful.
- >They had released you with squeaky clean bandages, but painkiller seems to be off the list.
- >Between all the pain you just grunt and carry on.
- >Though the Yellow pony- you forget her name- was your only visitor, you still spent a lot of time with Red Heart.
- >You had learned multiple things, each of varying value.
- >You’ll go in ascending order.
- >Your dick is the best dick she has ever had the pleasure of seeing.
- >She had a huge wet-on for you.
- >You were unconscious for only a half a day.
- >Society was biased toward the male, and you could exploit the living hell out of it.
- >And finally, Rarity was the town clothes maker.
- >You decide to react only to the last two things, the other three things best left… untended.
- >Quickly, you rush to a bench right next to the hospital main door and seat yourself.
- >Thinking of a true-blue plan of battle was above your pay grade.
- >Of course you weren't actually paid anymore, what with being on another planet.
- >You begin to lean forward and place your elbows on your knees.
- >You're surprised the doctor didn't diagnose you with crippling retardation as you suck in air through your teeth.
- >Withdrawing your elbows only made it hurt worse.
- >Truly life is pain.
- >You take a deep breath and lean back, spreading your arms over the back of the bench.
- >Time to come up with a list.
- >First, you have to find out where the hell Rarity is.
- >Second, you have to order some of dem supposedly high quality clothes.
- >Third, you had to find a way to pay her.
- >Fourth, was acquisition of Food, water, and shelter.
- >Fifth was a job.
- >You have no idea how to go about this.
- >Dad always said struggle was a good builder of character.
- >You were four when he said that, he was killed shortly their after by a Greater daemon of Tzeentch.
- >Probably.
- >Seems to be a family tradition now.
- >Such is the life and times of a Guardsman.
- >After lazing about for awhile and enjoying the cold air on your face, you stand up.
- >Time to ask for directions.
- >You wander around the town, most of its denizens greet you in a cheery way, but it feels sort of cold.
- >You find yourself in what appears to be a sort of strip mallish place.
- >Taking a risk, you head toward a place that has a familiar looking symbol on one of its open front windows.
- >It resembles an Imperial Aquila, but distinctly has two ponies instead of a double headed eagle.
- >You feel a bit insulted, you may have been left for dead, but you still had the utmost pride in the Imperium of Mankind.
- >You squat slightly to open the opaque door to the inside, but something opens the door first.
- >A pony with a long, black mane knocks you on you ass.
- >She soon follows suit.
- >You grimace before smiling, the sudden bad smell coming off the pony catching you off guard.
- >But you had smelt far, /far/ worse on the battlefield.
- “Oh, hello, pony, didn't see you there.”
- >Through the scattered, and quite concealing, black mass of a mane, you can see a beat red blush.
- >”P-p-praise the Empress, good citizen!”
- >(Hey, there's no copyright to that line, fight me.)
- >Your upper lip twitches slightly at the disrespect of your Lord and Saviour.
- >But otherwise, you ignore the blight.
- “Praise the Emperor indeed, pony. Can you point me toward the pony named Rarity, miss?”
- >The grey pony seems to breakdown more.
- >”I-uh-ah-um.”
- >She stumbles for words, and you attempt to help her along.
- “How about instead, you just tell me your name?”
- >This instead makes it worse.
- >Her breathing picks up and she looks on the verge of collapse.
- >You put a hand on her wither to get her to calm down.
- >This backfires immensely.
- >MEANWHILE, IN THE HOBBY SHOP.
- >You're the cashier of this here store.
- >Is Floor really talking to a stallion?
- >And he hasn't run away?
- >Did he just touch her in a nice way?
- >She’s about to collapse from his attention.
- “I never thought she'd see the touch of a friendly stallion in all my life.”
- >”Me neither, mare, me neither.”
- >Be an Imperial Guardsman of the Grand Empire of Mankind.
- >The little mare hit the ground with a light thud.
- >You slowly get up and begin to walk away from the situation.
- >She’d be fine.
- >There were plenty of other people around.
- >Confusedly, you edge off to go ask another pony where Rarity was.
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