As the title suggests, this isn't lore wise at all, but merely a short fictive report (three parts) based on the false assumptions that: 1. Terra isn't the Earth past several millennia but another planet, located in another place of the Milky Way. 2. We're still in the 41st millennium, although unaware of what's really going on elsewhere in the galaxy. Also, because it isn't my native language, my English is far from being perfect. So do not hesitate to correct me if necessary. Here we go! I/ (Very) short diary of an earthling college student: [/!\ the language is sometimes rude in this one, deal with it or just skip it /!\] 6:01 am: My alarm rings. Under a thick layer of warm sheets a growl is heard. This is me, pissed off from being interrupted in such a fantasmagorique dream. Damn the psychologist! Will I really have to write this kind of shit every day? [Follow numerous unreadable lines of rage and complaining, confirming that the subject was indeed in great need of such psychological counseling] 6:33 am: Despite my strong desire to rejoin this young and engaging girl in my dreams, I finally managed to extract myself from my cozy refuge. As I begin my breakfast I decided, as always, to turn on the TV and watch the news – time to wake up from your dreams man, here comes the fucking real world! 6:42 am: After another oil tanker having mysteriously disappeared with its crew in the middle of the Pacific and one more report on the civil war that is about to explode in Ukraine, I interrupted a silly-looking scientist in his attempt to explain – with some weird theory of his own design – the crash last week of several till then orbiting satellites. That’s enough shit for today, let’s go to university. 7:01 am: I’m now in the bus, halfway to my university and one step closer to the bloody final test. Fortunately, the discussion of two nerds sitting not far from where I screwed my own ass on keeps me distracted from the slaughter to come. Those assholes where furiously arguing one against the other about what Mr. Spoke said earlier on the news’ channel. One’s idea – something about aliens and shit – seems to me just as crazy as the glasses he wears, while his sickly pale-looking buddy, defending the more down to earth theory that we’re currently dealing with a solar flare, gives me the hope that one day we too will be able to communicate with other living forms such as his interlocutor – if of course a cold has not finish the puny boy before he could reach his majority. 7:16 am: Test begins in ten minutes, but it’s okey. Those freaky smartarses in the bus put me in the mood for that whole fucking day! 10:13 am: Holy shit, I’ve raped the fucking test! It’s going to be an awesome day! Damn psychologist was right – I owe the guy a cookie. [Follow much too many lines of self congratulation, bearing an incredibly rare form of smugness] 10:25 am: Er, that’s weird… The whole university were invited to enter the amphitheaters for a special screening of the news – sounds fucking serious man, even the cold bitch who’s our director seems to have (finally) shit the stick out of her pants. I’m inside one of the lecture rooms and things look really bad: they’re showing us live video reports of several site of the globe – in the Nevada desert, in North Carolina… Some places in Mexico, South Africa, East Asia, the Philippines and more – now utterly destroyed, nothing more than several dozens miles wide smoldering craters ; also ships wreckages floating on boiling water, on mother fucking boiling sea water, in each one of our damn five oceans! One by one, witnesses interviewed around the globe claim to have seen the same column of dazzling light striking on the very location of the now annihilated areas – some of them have even been rendered blind and / or severely burned by the light, although they were hundreds of miles away when it happens. 10:31 am: Some randome egghead sitting not far from me just made the most useful remark of his nerdy life. Most of the destroyed land sites used to be important military installations earned by significant nations or the NATO itself, and the wreckages currently floating on the surface of the seas and oceans are probably what remains from aircraft carriers and their escort fleet. Fuck myself… I must call Mom, now. 10:44 am: I can directly watch them from where I am, bright fiery orange glows falling from the sky. The news say that as for the « light columns » it simultaneously happens in different places in the world, they also report that this shit is falling abnormally fast and don’t desintegrate while entering the stratosphere as regular meteors should. Someone in the room has just informed us that the national guard has arrived in town, hopefully they will be able to deal with the threat when it will come in firing range. 2:57 pm: There was immediate retaliation after the army opened fire on the (visibly decelerating) falling meteors for the first time – three hours ago. Numerous aircrafts have swooped down from the sky on the poorly protected city, releasing salvos of destructive projectiles, reducing buildings to rubble, killing soldiers and civilians alike… Even if I wasn’t so busy to run and hide to save my own life, I would be unable to describe how the currently-raping-our-ass machines look like. Everything is going way too fast for me to understand what’s really going on. This morning, I successfully wrote my test and was happy as Hell to have a peacefull life to go, but now, the same day… The fucking mess. I want to scream my frustration out as a helpless child would do, but can’t find a voice for it, because I’m too fucking scared. Who would bother anyway, while panic has reached everyone’s mind? Who could save me from this disaster? And this feeling… I can’t get a rid of it, just as if my whole life has been a very bad joke supposed to bring me to this very moment – death, at the most unexpected time? How foolish I am, to search some meaning where there is only coincidence and unfortunate time to live! Yet, I can feel my anxiety sneaking back to my thoughts. It says, that I’m not ready to die. He whispers to me, that only if I embrace Fate I will live…
II/ Meanwhile on board of the Redeemer of the Damned, battle barge of the Black Templar chapter (in the orbite of the planet): - Our ground troops have cleared and secured landing areas close to the objectives as you ordered, marshal. The natives are numerous but oppose little resistance to our battle-brothers and His sacred will. - Good. The Elysians have infiltrate the target locations and will old it until we join them with our arsenal. The planet inhabitants should soon rally their finest forces and strike back to us, we must be ready. - At your orders marshal, may the Emperor be with us. - Then we shall not fail his sight. Still no communication established with the Icaros Phalanx? - Still. - The prisoners? - Our techmarine have finalized a proper translating device, operating on the basis of the five more spoken languages of this world – according to what we learned from the captured seamen. They are of no more use to us. - They aren’t tainted by the Warp? - No, my Lord. - Yet the inquisitor was adamant on this point: the upcoming Warp storm will see this planet transformed into a demon world. We cannot afford the risk to keep them longer on board, tell brother-chaplain Archorus to give them the Emperor’s peace. Also, brother-castellan, give the order to board on the thunderhawks, and take command of the battle barge. - Marshal? - I’ll personally meet those unbelievers on their very ground.
III/ Back on Earth, Nottingham (U.K.), GW headquarter: - Finally, after almost forty years of waiting the loyalist dogs are here! - Indeed, just in time to set things in motion. - You really knew what would happen, from the beginning! - You had doubts about our success? - No, no, it is not what I meant! - I know you have, wurm, I always knew. As I knew for your incompetence to lead this company as WE enjoin you to do. - I assure you, everything was under control… - It wasn’t. - I would have had those 5th edition and Grey Knights problems fixed by my own, trust me. - I didn’t. But that is why the loyalists are here today, that the Ordo Malleus’s elite is regarded as trustworthy as khornate berzerkers, that everyone hates the Ultramarines and finally that a broken satellite unfortunately crashed on your now regretted game designer, while he was walking his dog – the pet survived, I like pets. - So what you’re trying to say is… - Exactely. Your incapacity to rule this company – and even how ineffectual we needed you to be – was just as planned. - And you… You don’t need my « help » anymore, am I right? - Don’t be afraid, wurm, we may need your involvement once again. - Than… Thank you, Lord Alpharius! Hydra Dominatus!
*1 Year Later between new york and manhattan......because lets face it if its going to happen somewhere it will be in America...* *Emperor lands* Emperor: "Rejoice citizens of Terra, i have come to gather mankind into one fellow swoop, join us or perish, if you decide to join us, i shall appoint you an administrator, one of my sons, his name is robuo.... Citizens: "Let us guess, he is wearing blue color armour and his name is roubute gulliman." "How did you all know?" Citizens: "We sort of come prepared for this sort of thing, he sucks, we want that green guy, with a dinosaur patch on his shoulder, some sort of lizard type head, he seems to be willing to care about us." Roboute: "Ill tear you all apart, you bastards!" Citizens: Booooooo!
Why do I have the image of a Muslim extremist running towards a Space Marine and blowing himself up. While the Space Marine just stands there looking confused.
I think he is going for an RP where Earth isn't Holy Terra. When we wake up some day looking at the Imperium of man coming to set us free.
