Chapter 1 - Breaching

Time/Place- 132 001.M42 / Empty space outside the Spawnhole system of the Halo Stars.

"Hunger hunger hunger

Cold black no food. All dead all dead, no more infection in veins.

Scent! Scent! Scent! Atom-fire nearby clutches morsels in its Gravitic clutches.

Into the Screaming I go! Scream harder! Scream Louder!

Tear a path through the Screaming to next meal!"

Time/Place- 009 003.M42/ In orbit of Chaos Slave world, Fodder III

Aspiring Champion Limax of the Black Legion wandered the Bridge of the cruiser under his command. The Corrupted Vision was under Orders to escort Dark Mechanicus and Chaos Thrall-Ships sent to harvest resources from the planet Fodder III. Unlike many of his fellow servants of Chaos Limax did not mind doing this this dull work for he knew the importance of his orders and being a Servant of Papa Nurgle, and that his devotion would be rewarded. Limax was happy to slowly and calmly work his way up the ranks of the Legion through "grunt work" Allowing his rivals to rot and wither due to their own foolish ambition. Unfortunately A large chunk of his crew did not share this sentiment and wished to be back at the frontlines of the 13th Black-Crusade and reave the decaying husk of the Imperium. Forcing Limax to keep a close eye on his subordinates and their schemes.

Strolling up to the main viewport the Aspiring Champion peering down on the billions of poor wretches being marched to the great harvesting stations in lines so massive they could be seen from orbit. This world lived up to its name, for much fodder for Chaos would be harvested here. Limax watched the procession for hours until he felt a disturbance in the Warp, something was entering reality. Limax smiled and ordered his crew to battle stations before the fleets sensors detected it. The Crew was used to this and knew not to question it, for Limax was a rarity among Aspiring Champions, not an Astartes but a Navigator that had embraced the dark powers. As much as made a show of preferring to do more menial jobs Limax was known for having peculiar luck on whatever mission he undertook. The reason being his sight into the warp and the skeins of destiny was akin to many great seers in the Warmasters service. He knew months ago that volunteering for this mission would greatly enrich him. The Chaos fleet watched as a hole in reality opened and the tattered remains of an Imperial Battleforce shot into the system.

After Cadias fall and the opening of the Cicatrix Maledictum, good chunks of the Imperial Navy were lost and disconnected these rogue forces sought to martyr themselves by destroying as much of the forces of Abaddon as possible. This left the various Chaos fleets in the odd possession of repelling raids instead of leading them. Soon every Vox channel was filled with maddened Imperial Hymns sung by Crew that had lost the light of the Astronomicon and sought to avenge their Emperor and Imperium that they thought lost.

Calmly Limax rattled off orders to his crew and the nearby Dark Mechanicus vessel. Using his precognitive sight he directed his ships to avoid the Torpedoes and other long distance ordinance that streamed towards them. Arranging his fleet with warp-blessed skill he gave the order to fire and a barrage of Marcroshells and Lance Bolts erupted from his small fleet. Round after Round pelted into the outmatched Imperial as Limax continued coordinating the defense with supernatural ease and fluidity.

The Aspiring Champion conducted this orchestra of murder with volley after volley of Laz an Adamantium rounds pulping the engines and turrets of the rag-tag Imperials. Once the Imperials vessels were neutered Dreadclaws descended upon them and emptied their putrid cargo of Corrupted Astartes and damned minions into the ships. His warriors got to sake their bloodlust and Limax acquired new ships for his fleet and a grateful group of DarkMech priests willing to repair and upgrade them. This seemingly dull mission had produced a great bounty. Limax lips parted in a diseased parody of smile as he silently thanked the Plaguefather for his gifts.

Time/Place- 103 003.M42/ In orbit of Chaos Slave world, Fodder III

A few months had passed and Limax's fleet was swollen by one Cruiser, three Light Cruisers, and six Escorts. The Dark Mechanicus had been very useful in returning them to working order before they left for their Forge World at the Edge of the Eye. The Thrall ships also departed, taking their wretched cargo of slaves and scum to be used as resources in the Long War. After spending a few weeks in the system testing the capabilities of his New Vessels Limax moved his fleet to the edge of the system and prepared a unified Warp Jump to take them to the main fronts of The Thirteenth Black Crusade. Putrid incense was burned and unholy rites were conducted in the name of the Four to ensure safe passage. Limax took his hallowed seat on the Navigators throne to guide his newly swollen fleet.

He opened his Corrupted and empowered third eye to peer into the warp. As he focused on the beautiful madness of the Immaterium he felt something, something beyond alien. Like a Whale beneath the surface of the sea, it moved, displacing huge volumes of warpstuff as it rode the current. Limax almost lost his concentration right there but he kept his sight upon this behemoth. He had felt Space Hulks and Void Whales and this was similar in magnitude yet something was off. His precognitive sight had not noticed it, almost as if destiny itself refused to look at whatever was emerging from the Warp. The thing was massive, planet sized at least and gave off the most sinister aura. Even with Limax being the hardened veteran of the Eye he was disturbed by it. Fearing this new threat he shouted to the crew to cancel the warp jump and move to battle stations.

Whatever in Nurgle's name this thing was he did not want to be entering the Warp with it so close. Moving into a Battle Formation the Chaos Fleet waited for whatever their Master has sensed. Soon Daemonic and Material sensors began shrieking warnings. (literally for the Daemonic one's) Reality at the edge of the System trembled and split. Warp Lighting of impossible colors crackled as the material was violently pulled apart, a titanic Warp Rift had formed.

Thousands of miles away the Corrupted Visions command bridge watched the widening rift as an entire planet was spat from the it. The Rift shut behind the moon-sized object like the jaws of an unholy beast. The Moon then begins to move at an astonishing rate towards Fodder III while thousand mile strands of dissolving Warp-Stuff peeled off its twisted bulk like strands of iridescent mucus.

Limax showing why he was the commander of this force was the first to react to this shocking event. He ordered his fleet to follow the warp-born Planetoid at a safe distance. He ordered his Sorcerer, a Tzeentchian by the name of Orama to psychically reach out to the Moon and discover its nature. The ancient exiled Thousand Son entered the immaterium and touched the Titans mind. Orama had touched the mind of countless abominations but this...was new. He felt the Moon and curiously felt no resistance. It was like the mind of a newborn, no defenses or mental barriers just a single thought, repeated over and over in its massive brain.

Hunger was all that was on its mind. A gnawing mind crushing hunger that was the focus of this entity. Focusing his thoughts Orama plunged further into its mind. The structure of its mind was strangely both alien and familiar was like nothing he had ever dealt with in all his ten thousand years. It was an open book to him but he could not change the slightest thought or idea. A tome carved in stone. He could feel its youth, Its ugly birth in a nexus of death. Orama dug deeper into it and was surrounded by the sheer unharnessed and undirected power of a being of such physical and metaphysical magnitude. As he reached its depths he felt something, something he had not felt in a very very long time. The Ex-Thousand Sons had been them when his Father and the Emperors Dog battled, he had felt it in his body and soul when two young gods clashed. The memories at the core of this moon were infinitely worse. Twin titans battled in its memories and subconscious. A Mass of Flesh made of teeth and claws wrestled a Screaming multi hued wind that changed every millisecond. Orama watched this contest of pantheons as his mind began to fray at the edges.

As he felt the sheer psychic pressure loosen tenuous grip on sanity slip away external forces grabbed him and hauled him screaming from the Hungry world's mind back into reality. Orama Awoke screaming as the ships Apothecary readied another syringe to jam into his veins. Shakely standing the Astartes asked Limax and the other elite aboard their ship to meet. He explained that what ever in the name of The Four this was it could not be beaten by them and that all they could do was watch and pray to Dark Gods it did not notice them. Limax's lieutenants all began to shout their views. Followers of Khorne spat curses for wishing to retreat. Fanatics of Word-Bearer kin begin to whisper a prayer. The Apothecary, a student of a student of a student of the infamous Fabius Bile agreed with Orama, his own morbid curiosity seeking to watch this thing. Limax agreed with his Sorcerer and the miniature Chaos Fleet trailed behind the World.

Time/Place- 111 003.M42/ About three light seconds from Fodder III

Trailing the Planetoid like Remora on a Shark the fleet watched it move through the system, directly towards Fodder III. The Raptor Cultists and the psychics in the fleet could sense the growing fear on Fodder III as they watched a dot on the horizon grow bigger and bigger each day. Soon for the poor scum on the planet's surface, the dot became more visible and it even began to affect the planet's tides. As this new moon became closer to Fodder III than Luna is to Terra, tidal waves began to sweep across the world and the Planetoid began to slow. The Chaos Fleet watched this spectacle from a safe distance as Huge volcanic seams began to show on the surface of the Hungry Planatoid facing Fodder III.

This Warp-born moon was now close enough that its gravity should have plunged it into the larger slave-world. Yet it did, thanks to some supernatural means. The Volcanic seams on the moon widened and gaps in its mantle formed. Huge tendrils of partially rotten flesh erupted out of the moon. They were easily Kilometers in girth and hundreds of them in length. They slowly unfurled towards the world below which burned from disaster and anarchy caused by the planetoids arrival. Like a wretched egg, more and more chunks of the Moon's mantle shattered and ripped off. Revealing a massive continent sized maw. Its tendrils Smashed into the world below it. Some just burrowed into it like worms in rotten flesh, engorging on molten metal while others made huge sweeps across the world. Scooping up entire ecosystems and cities with giant towering maws that gulped down anything they came close too with toothed feelers and snatching tentacles.

Once thoroughly anchored by its tendrils, dust seemed to pour off of the Moon. Telescopic scans showed they were creatures, armies of undulating constantly shifting life forms that tumbled through the atmosphere. Billions of Wretched abominations landed on Fodder III and devoured all in their wake. All of this was carefully watched by the distant Chaos Fleet. Multiple onboard minor insurrections had to be put down due, these were caused by Psykers going insane from the psychic backlash of a world being eaten, and the primal fear so many on the vessels felt from watching such a display.

It took mere months for all life on the planet to be consumed. The once agri-world was reduced to a scarred husk. The eater-forms that had descended soon began to mass directly beneath the Maw and Eyes of the Devouring World. The Forms ate each other in a colossal feat of carnage with each victim adding to the victors mass. Soon an entire planet's worth of biomass had to become a colossal necrotic mountain that continuously crushed itself under its own weight while mutating ever higher into the sky.

As a sickening crescendo to this travesty, The tendrils of the Moon pulled it out of orbit, and crashing into the doomed world. Its Continent sized maw opened wide and devoured the grizzly offering that was its children had become. The Planet and moon smashed into each other with a shockwave that sent mountains into orbit. One of Limax's Escorts barely avoided one of these newly formed Asteroids. The Moon Enjoyed its feast of flesh and stone and eventually detached its tendrils. Retracting its limbs and maw it allowed the exposed molten core of what was Fodder III to smear over the cracks and wounds on its crust. Filling in the gaps on its murderer's mantle and appearing to those who did not know the wretched truth to be just another lifeless rock. Limax gave a single order to his still horrified and entranced crew. "Prepare for Warp-Jump, by the Fell-Gods we must tell the Warmaster for only he so blessed may stand against this...this… Devouring World"