A/N:This story would not exist without the assistance (and badgering) of the Celestial Forge Discord. They have helped with may detail of this fic, especially as pertaining to the lore of 40k in general, and Necromunda in particular. I would like to thank them for their assistance.

Please note that this story is a Crosspost from its original version on Questionable Questing. I may choose to post elsewhere as well. Time will tell.

Now then, onwards to my little project here, yes?


There is a universe, vastly different from our own, for all that it is shockingly similar. Within said universe, there are galaxies torn apart by strife, teetering on the brink of collapse into outright anarchy.

These galaxies are the lucky ones, for they have yet to meet the true horrors of this universe.

And yet, as it always does, Life Finds A Way. Creatures both vast and tiny have managed to eke out an existence amongst these lonely—perhaps even cursed—stars.

For some, it is a simple life, to live, feed, breed, and ultimately die, only to repeat the cycle again. For others, those who would be called "higher" lifeforms by those who would judge such things, there may be variations, little detours along the same path that is the cycle of life.

And then there's this shit over here…

This particular galaxy has...Issues. Some would go so far as to say it actually has Subscriptions, but those beings are (supposedly) above such petty and banal dialogue masking itself as humor.

This place, devoid of all but the very concept of hope, is effectively doomed, largely by the actions of its own inhabitants over the millennia, but mostly by the idiots that would see themselves as almighty, rulers over all...until they got ganked by their own creations and used as fuel for the ambitions of even smaller and pettier beings. That this would continue unabated until all was dust was blatantly apparent to even a casual observer with access to the full picture.

So imagine, then, the surprise of those same observers when a monkey wrench suddenly appeared in the gears of that elaborate construct of pain and despair with absolutely no reasoning, fanfare, or even notice.

And imagine further still the reaction to what happened afterwards…


I awoke to the sight of a darkened sky, filled with an endless expanse of stars the likes of which I had never before seen in my life. Sounds of industry and commerce rang out all around me as individuals moved about on their daily routines and tasks, seemingly completely oblivious to my presence.

Considering that I was currently prone in the middle of what looked to be a major thoroughfare, that was rather concerning…

Taking a moment to gather myself, I quickly stood from the hard surface of the…wait a minute…

How the hell did I end up outside? Fully dressed no less?

And what the hell is that SMELL?

Fortunately, my stomach is made of sterner stuff, and the downright rank odors coming from somewhere only irritated me as opposed to outright incapacitating me. That breeze blowing in kinda helped too, but it also added another odor to the mix while it was at it. Ugh.

Stop focusing on the smell. Figure out where you are.

Moving quickly out of the intersection of...foot paths? and into a small alcove, I took a moment to observe my surroundings. I was apparently in some kind of plaza or large alleyway, that from the looks of it was used as a type of bazaar, judging by the fact that there were no actual streets, only foot paths and shadowy alleyways that hinted at danger. Stalls of wares and other curios surrounded me, although it seemed that for whatever kind of market setup this was, it was a slow day, as upon further review there was not much in the way of foot traffic. The people around me were moving with a particular type of shuffle that immediately raised warning flags in my head from my time on the streets. Their clothing was mostly drab, utilitarian-type gear that looked to be chosen more for durability than comfort, if there was even anything resembling choice at all; there was more than one person walking around in what looked to be no better than rags. Soft lighting abounded in the area, casting flickering shadows as things passed by.

Looked like some kind of oddball fluorescent setup...but I've never seen a light like that before-

I jumped slightly as something brushed against my leg.

Glancing down, I beheld what looked like some kind of...cat? Certainly not a type ive ever seen in my life before. And didn't look like it had any kind of collar on it either. \

ushing the cat out of mind, I continued focusing on the area around me, further catching glimpses of a pair of what looked like some kind of maybe-maybe not police force loitering at the corners of the plaza proper, seemingly casual and relaxed, but with an alertness that I knew and understood all too well. Uniforms didn't seem like too much, mostly monotone utilities and what looked like a sidearm on belt holsters. It also looked like they might have had some kind of bludgeoning implement available as well, but I was making a point of not looking too closely at them lest I attract attention to myself.

Further glances about me to the surrounding architecture showed that the area was…old. Not just old as in "it's been there maybe fifty, sixty years, but nearly ancient, as in this place, whatever it was, had been here for millennia and would stay here for millennia more.

You do not GET that kind of old in the 'States. EVER.

Which meant that I was either somehow overseas without any prior knowledge, in a span of time that would frighten even the calmest of minds with the sheer implication…

Or, to put a fine point on it, I wasn't in Kansas anymore. Or possibly even Earth, for that matter.

Crap.

And now that the implications of THAT particular nugget of information had suitably woken my ass up, I REALLY started paying attention, knowing full well that my very life could depend upon it. I started glancing around for anything, anything at ALL that might give me a clue as to what might have happened, while also doing a quick and (hopefully) unnoticed check of my own person for anything usable.

Which is when I noticed some rather important details that I really should have seen earlier, but I'm an idiot and was half asleep, so yah.

Detail the first: I was decked out in a pair of actually really good, if plain, utility pants of a clearly military bent, complete with the multitude of pockets that soldiers the world over have come to rely on. More to the point, the pocket config was that of a pair of Airman Battle Uniform pants, as I saw the lower thigh pockets down below as well. Color wasn't anything to write home about, but not many people will complain about dark green, as opposed to army olive drab…

Upper body was in a similar shape, with a kind of long-sleeved shirt, black in color, that felt both durable and flexible where needed, with some small bits of reinforcing around the elbows. Ending my impromptu getup was a vest of some type, in the same color as the pants, complete with the requisite multitude of pockets on the front...(okay, there were only two plus the standard waist pockets,, but STILL) and what felt like a LOT more hidden inside.

The second detail was what caught my attention, as I pulled out what looked like pieces of plastic adorned with a symbol that I recognized all too well.

A golden, double-headed eagle.

Better known in certain circles as the Imperial Aquila.

Please, please God no. Come on, let this just be like some kind of alternate Rome or something. Please, for the love of God, do NOT be what I think this is...

A small snatch of conversation caught my attention as what looked like a couple walked nearby.

"-but they managed to get in and gut the bastards, they did. No losses, either, so big party for me an' the boys tonight. Sure enough that was a right bitch, clearin' out them damned culties. Bless the Emperor for heavy melta, amirite?"

And there they were. The dreaded words, which combined with now obvious portions of the architecture, confirmed the worst nightmare of anyone who had ever had the misfortune to end up on an Isekai.

I was in Warhammer 40,000.

FUCK.


Alright, now is not the time to panic. (I can do that later.) Right now I need to get my head in the game and figure out a plan of action. Anything else WILL get my black ass killed in short order.

So, think! THINK DAMMIT!

What do I know?

I'm in the original grim dark hellhole, one that Worm desperately WISHES that it was. There are multiple bad ends waiting around potentially every corner of the galaxy, and there are also four beings of incredible power going all out to kick the ass of the fifth, which is the last real hope for mankind…

In theory, anyway. If I was in the "early" timeline.

If I ended up at or near the End Times, then that was about to go kaput and have shit hitting the fan EVERYWHERE. Meaning I need a time hack. Hell, a DATE hack...and to know what freaking planet I was on, no less. Best chance is to ask a question, but will it cause people to become suspicious? Warp-fuckery is a known factor here….

...Hold on a second.

I woke up to seeing stars everywhere.

How did that happen when I'm in an enclosed space?

Because yes, I somehow managed to miss even THAT detail too. Real good observation skills there, Green. What next, you gonna forget about basic communication skills too?

I just taunted Murphy, didn't I?

Well, screw it. OWN the madness that is coming.

In any case, I need to calm the fuck down and get my bearings set before that karmic retribution I'm due comes forth. Because I know for a fact that it will.

So, enclosed space that looks like it's an impromptu habitation setup. There could be a great deal of these in any of a number of locations throughout the Imperium...but my inner nerd tells me that the most likely location for me to have ended up is a hive city. Now just to figure out which one…

I locate the closest individual who doesn't look like they're trying to scare off everyone around them by sheer force of will, and casually and non-threateningly walk towards them, giving a slight nod when the person, an older balding man with a slight limp, acknowledges my presence.

"You mind answering me a few quick questions? Trying to get my bearings here."

The man gives me a very odd look, and responds in some kind of gibberish that might have been english at one point or another. I caught maybe half a word, at best.

Oh CRAP.

The Imperium's official language is High Gothic, which I'd surmised to have been based off of latin. The actually used language by the people, though, was Low Gothic, which if I remember it right was a hodgepodge mix of various local dialects and cants mixed and blended together until nothing looked the same ever again.

Both of which are A.) very much not english and B.) NOT a language that I know. At all. And this of course most certainly did NOT just paint me as an outsider, someone to not be trusted, and potentially get the "official" authorities involved in.

Not. At. All. No Siree.

Oddly enough, the old guy somehow figured out what the holdup was, and managed to get my attention. He started speaking while making certain gestures, attempting to convey simple meaning to me. I quickly took the idea as my own and attempted the same.

Somehow, this worked.

Apparently there was a setup of sorts for those like me who were...er, displaced without their prior knowledge, and scrambled brain wasn't uncommon, or at least that's what I think that weird gesture meant. That or he thought I had a screw loose, and that is possibly as good as it is bad, depending on who you ask.

In any case, he seemed amicable enough to act as a guide to a place where I could find more information. Feeling somewhat hopeful with this turn of events, I decided to do the polite thing and ask him his name, forgetting for a moment that we lacked a common language.

"Harrisyn Cain, So then, you ready to move?"

Wait. I Understood him.

I UNDERSTOOD HIM.

Now that I think about it, I understood the two from earlier as well…

Just what is going on here?

"Yeah, just gimme a second. And the name's Green."

Another one of those looks followed by gibberish.

Maybe it's a differing language?

"...seem...getting your head back on straight. What,….caught in….cultists?"

Okay, Huh?

Seems like whatever is allowing me to understand the language here is transitory...and one-way.

Instead of confusing Harrisyn even more, I give him a curt nod, and we begin our trek towards knowledge, and hopefully, some answers for me.

And seriously, I needed them. That was the second time that Cultists had been brought up since I awakened here, and it hasn't even been ten minutes.

Here's hoping that doesn't find a way to rub off on me…

In any case, this communication issue needs to be resolved ASAP. I can't have my one actual contact here not being able to understand what the hell I need to make it...and I'll need to be able to figure out who the players in this place are so I can pick a side.

Because like it or not, I was going to be forced to pick, eventually. These kinds of places tended to disfavor those who attempted to remain unaffiliated, with varying levels of severity based on exactly where you were. Nothing different from the streets, but far more dangerous all the same.

Harrisyn and I eventually arrived at the location, a run down, if serviceable, dwelling next to what looked like a series of distribution pipes. There wasn't anything looking like actual security nearby, but I remained on guard all the same. You never knew what someone who was determined and crafty enough could come up with in a pinch, and this place had far too much that could be used as an impromptu IED or other such magnet of "fun".

Harrisyn waved me inside as after he opened the unsurprisingly sturdy door. Moving in, I noted that there were some small lights placed around what looked like the main room of the abode, with an alcove for what appeared to be a basic kitchenette and two doors leading further in along a back wall. I assumed that at least one of these was a toilet of some form or fashion.

He chose that moment to try to communicate again. "This….where….until we...you..straight."

Seemed like more was getting through that time, but it also came with an increasingly severe headache. I winced as a lance of pain shot through my skull, a hand going to my forehead automatically in a vain effort to reduce the effect somehow.

Harrisyn said something again, but all I got was completely unintelligible gibberish as another spike was jammed into my skull. It was getting difficult to even think, let alone pay attention, and I couldn't allow even a moment of inattention to be had, lest-

A third, and fourth spike of pain completely floored me, and I lost all situational awareness as my whole conscious mind was wracked by PAIN.

I don't know if Harrisyn tried to help me. I don't know if he pulled out a gun of some kind, a knife, or even if he just ran away. All I knew was pain the likes of which I had never felt before as seemingly massive spikes were driven into my brain, without any form of remorse or mercy, as I gripped my head in agony.

I don't even know if I had screamed out from the sheer intensity. All there was, was PAIN.

And the pain was spreading. Moving rapidly down my spine and throughout my body with the speed of crackling electricity, until every nerve was flaring up in suffering. I couldn't think, couldn't even BREATHE, as it kept spreading, through my bones, to the muscles, skin, to my heart, and seemingly even into my very soul.

Fortunately my mind had the decency to finally shut down from overload at tha\is point as I blacked out.


I awoke again in a place that could not have been any more different from toe sprawling enclosed mega-city that was wherever I had ended up in. Instead I beheld the same endless field of stars that I first remembered, only this time with even MORE.

It seemed entire galaxies were here, presented in their full glory, all for my sole viewing pleasure. Nebulae laced through multiple galaxies, the sheer majesty of a supermassive Black hole, even the rare and, If I remembered correctly, only theorized to exist White holes spread out in seemingly equal numbers. Comets danced to the strings of cosmic forces both simple and somehow vast beyond the comprehension of all but a pale few. What looked like glittering stardust twinkled in seeming delight as I beheld the impossible, an entire universe.-no, multiple universes, sprawled before me both in miniature and exacting, 1:1 detail...and somehow I could see it all.

Or was it?

Was I seeing entire universes given shape and form, or was it nothing more than the dance of a cluster of cells? Atoms, perhaps? Or even that strangest form of matter, the Quarks and all of the quantum underpinnings of the universe? It seemed to shift from one form to another, even as I looked at it and SAW.

And before the sheer enormity of that fact, of the fact that I somehow was included in the ranks of those who not only knew and understood but were meant to SHAPE those vast and yet paradoxically tiny cosmic forces, I heard a sound, echoing throughout the entirety of this strange place as it was a small shack.

**clang**

**clang**

**clang**

It sounded like...a hammer?

Curious, I moved towards this sound, completely unthinking of exactly how I actually performed such an action.

**clang**

**clang**

Closer still, and all I heard was an increase in volume...and what my limited knowledge told me was something non-metallic, but ringing out as such anyway. Odd.

**clang**

**clang**

I soon came to the source of the unusual racket, and what I saw there would have taken my breath away, if I had not somehow subconsciously expected it (and there is ANOTHER question for the day…)

A figure stood there, veiled by the expanse of starstuff that swirled around him as if an elaborate cloak, twisting and pulsing with the energies of the very cosmos. In his hands, was what looked to be a smith's hammer, seemingly made of the very stars themselves. And what lay before him, the project that seemed to consume all of his attention, was…was…

Oh my god.

I would have accepted a galaxy. Hell, a galaxy cluster. This place seems to be very accommodating of things like that. Even an entire universe, while stretching things, would have been believable, to a degree. Hell, given the way this space works, I would have accepted literally ANYTHING else.

Oh no.

What Stretched before me in all of it's transcendent glory was nothing less than the sum totality of an entire multiverse, still in embryo, awaiting the moment that the fires of creation were instilled within and the various bing bangs, temporal paradoxes, and other such higher-dimensional phenomena required for something to truly come to life were initiated. It sat there, the very seed of creation itself, waiting for the final breath of life to be infused within.

It was only now that I realized that the clanging, what I now knew to be the literal forging of stars, had ceased.

I looked up from this strange majesty, this utter masterpiece awaiting its finishing touch, and into the face of its creator-

I know you.

I KNOW YOU.

Somehow, I knew who this was, and had known them for literally my entire life. Which was absolutely impossible, as I had never seen them before. Ever. And then more discrepancies came to my mind.

How did I know he was male? That veil covers everything.

How did I know what everything back there was? Those endless expanses of stars, spread out, I knew them like I had made them myself.

How do I know that he Knows that I know him, and that this was totally expected?

How the hell am I suddenly filled with the sense that this was supposed to happen, all of it? That we were meant to meet?

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!

A simple gesture from the figure and suddenly I was calm, and everything made sense.

Yes, I was supposed to be here, and all is as was intended...although there was a hiccup in the process that complicated things, which will be explained presently.

Yes, you do know me, as thoroughly and intimately as I know you, as we have always known each other, form that first day that we knew of the struggle that was life. Though the reason why will surprise you.

Yes, this place was incredible, and yes, those countless stars and planets and galaxies should be familiar to you...although for now I cannot tell you why.

That being said, there is one more task that I have need of you for.

The figure lifted up his hammer of stars, a massive thing that seemed to dwarf even him, and that was paradoxically as tiny as a toothpick (Concepts, they were concepts of building, of Creation)...and turned the hammer, handle first, towards me, offering it.

I stood there, dumbfounded. He wanted me, ME, to finish that masterpiece of a multiverse? To wield the vast powers of creation and somehow, breathe life into countless worlds?

To, in all seriousness, effectively become a GOD?

The sense I got then was oddly complex, but completely valid nonetheless: the process could not be completed without me. For whatever reason, and he wasn't spilling the beans (Not yet.), I had to be the one to deliver the final blow, and complete the work. It didn't make sense to me, but he insisted that it HAD to be me, and no other.

And besides, this was one of your greatest fantasies anyway. To be able to create something so grand, so vast? Would you ever even entertain the thought of NOT being a part of this?

And he was right.

This WAS one of my greatest fantasies, to be able to create the infinite, to create anything that I fancied just because I COULD. To have no real restriction but my heart and my imagination as I created something new and interesting just to see if I could. It's why I loved Legos as a kid.

So there wasn't really a choice here, was there?

I reached out and grabbed the hammer...and was surprised that it fit my hand like it was meant to be there. Like it wanted to be there. Like a piece of myself had finally come home.

And I understood. About this place, about why I was "chosen", everything.

And there was no more time for words.

I lifted the hammer, as sure of its operation as I was of my own body, and sighted where and what I wanted to do. With a grunt of effort, I imbued this tool, MY tool, with the essence of life itself.

And I swung-


I awoke on a small, ratty couch with a clear head, feeling somehow refreshed. The previous pain that I had experienced was nowhere to be found. In its place, however, was a piece of knowledge, a surety that my life would never be the same.

But then again, I knew that already, considering where I was.

Getting up was easy, and I finally noticed my footwear, that I had forgotten about in the dustup of before. A simple pair of good-quality combat boots, with (from the feel) a reinforced heel plate and a type of steel—or maybe composite, they're somewhat interchangeable—toe. Looking around revealed that The lights were dimmed, the cracked walls showing their age, and the minimal carpeting (which I was shocked existed at all) clearly on its last legs.

Of Harrisyn there was no sign.

Ah well, that gives me time to test this out.

I moved towards the doors in the back, examining each as I approached. They were simple affairs, a handle on each, with an equally simple locking mechanism installed above the furthest one. I assumed that was a bedroom of sorts, or maybe a closet, so I checked the other door first, confirming that the room beyond was a wash chamber and toilet setup, and very compact from the looks of things.

Now for that other door. I headed there next, and beyond it turned out to be a small sleeping area with a small integrated closet on a sliding door setup. Both were empty of anything but a simple, if comfortable looking, bedroll, and what looked like a space for personal items and effects.

Suited me just fine, really.

Now that I had confirmed my environment, I double-checked to make sure I wasn't under any overt observation ( I wasn't, there weren't any windows and the place was locked tight), I pulled out the thing that I brought back with me: a simple, old-fashioned key. With a smirk, I placed it into the key slot of the sleeping area, noting with no surprise at all that it slid home easily despite not being even remotely shaped for the door in question, and turned the knob.

What awaited me on the other side was most definitely not a small cubbyhole of a sleeping area, but a semi-largish hallway, with a set of lockers on one side and a plain-looking door on the other.

If I remembered correctly, that door should lead to...and yes, there it is.

Inside was a simple workshop, set up to be able to handle most any needs that the aspiring craftsman—or simple handyman, really—would need. The place was set up very much like the workshops and tool rooms that I'd frequented before, in my earlier years as an Air Force mechanic, and was laid out in a similar manner, complete with the shadow boards and foam cutouts for tools to ensure that not one thing was out of place. Bins with various screws, nuts, bolts, and other such detritus of the common mechanic were laid out in an easy-to-use manner, each separated by both size and apparent function, with room for more as needed. Situated towards the back wall were the setups where power tools of various makes and purposes lay, along with the necessary attachments for any job. Of note was a large multi-storage bin on that same wall with some rather high-grade electrical components, suitable for repairing most simple electronics if needed.

Huh, seems that I got that upgrade after all…

Even though I had lost the strange knowledge of...everything that I had whilst in that place, the core nugget of the truth remained.

This room, in a way, WAS that hammer. MY hammer, meant to forge wonders like the universe had never seen...and eventually entire universes itself, it seemed. This place was meant to be the core of my forge, that would one day shape the stars.

A fragment of that knowledge came to me now, remembered from a moment both infinite in scope and oddly fleeting.

This place, this power, was always meant to be yours...was always yours to begin with. This is nothing more than you awakening to your birthright.

Yeah. A birthright. Doesn't matter for now, but in the short term it may have just saved my bacon, as if the extra tools were here…

I rushed out to the lockers, opening the first one to find exactly what I was looking for. A set of well-used armor, a small arm-mounted device, and a pistol.

Specifically, A highly customized N7 Eagle Heavy Pistol, complete with an extended magazine capacity and a heavy barrel attachment for extra firepower.

I picked up my new weapon and gave it a quick once over, looking for anything amiss. Seeing nothing, I quickly stashed it inside my vest, which had an unusually convenient pocket just for it.

...Not going to argue that one, at all.

The armor was too obvious for what I was going to be doing right now, but would be nice for when shit hit the fan...and it wasn't a matter of if, but when; my own experience on the streets, the basic knowledge of this being 40k, and both sets of military experience told me as much outright.

Final checks. Everything looks good? Clothes alright, weapon stashed and ready?

Oh yeah, need to get the omnitool…

Grabbing the small bracer that was the omnitool hardware, I quickly powered it up and ran it through its diagnostic and self-test routines. So far, looking good...and my, oh my was that a jackpot.

You see, normally, with my mechanic specialization, I would have access to top-end hacking tools, some drones for ranged work and harassment, a deployable sentry turret for static defense when needed, and various methods of disabling people via incendiaries and cryo, as well as disruption tools for electronics. (The personal tweaks for draining energy from a target and a programmable holographic decoy were really just useful extras for intense situations...and the defensive field booster required the armor.)

The N7 Demolisher mods didn't change this, but instead added on to the kit with explosives. Grenades, in standard, incendiary, cryo and EMP varieties (and all of them with limited active homing capability), as well as an option to make my omnitool strikes be explosive (which was overkill, really).

The Ammo pylon, on the other hand, was less useful to anyone that wasn't me, for reasons of thermal clip, but the grenades were a plus in a pinch. That being said, if I had to get that loud things were in the shitter.

The REAL plus, though, was that the omnitool had the appropriate modifications to deploy not only an omni-blade, but an omni-shield, too. Omni-shields were normally only carried by N7 Paladins, and had some very useful properties outside of being a portable shield system. For one, they could be enhanced similarly to the grenades, adding both intense heat and extreme cold into the main body of the shield proper for devastating shield bash attacks as needed. That I could potentially modify this to add to the omni-blade was a plus, but it was also a non-standard setup for a reason. I would have to research this carefully.

Finally fully kitted out, I stepped out of my entry hall and quickly secured the door. All in all, the whole operation took less than 30 seconds.

Apparently this was just in time, as Harrisyn decided to make a reappearance.

"Ah, Finally awake, are ya? You were out for quite a bit there, son. Was getting...concerned that you might be having...issues, if you catch my drift?"

Huh. So he was being cautious about my involvement, potential or otherwise, with that small band of cultists that just got put to the flames earlier. Smart man.

Also, it seemed my translator implants were working as intended. A good thing to hear, all things considered...now lets see if I can make this-

A light bloomed in my head, and my attention was drawn away for a moment as I once again beheld that place of endless wonder and magic. The baby multiiverse that had once lain dormant upon the anvil of the forge was now shining, completed by my very hands, and had risen to the "sky" above me. Within seemed to bloom countless stars, possibly universes in miniature, that shone with a dull light, all arranged in a pattern reminiscent of a constellation of stars. There were a few of these smaller points of light, however, that shone brighter than the others...and as I watched, once more another activated itself using the essence of my very own lifeforce that I had instilled within it. The Power within flowed freely through it, and then echoed, tracing a path back through the entire arrangement as if to announce its presence, before settling in on a brightly shining central spark of unimaginable strength.

That, spark, as I had learned before, was a metaphysical representation of myself. Everything I am, was, and could be, all wrapped up in a single point of light and combined with something...more. What that something was still confused me (and my erstwhile associate; he refused to be called a patron, citing a technicality that he refused to elaborate on further. I chose to call him Watts), but was determined to be relatively benign in nature, even possibly beneficial, as supposedly there had already been more than one attempt to glean insights into my being by the "locals", as it were. Those headaches might have been a form of backlash from that, but neither I nor Watts were certain if that was true.

Oh wait, there's a note attached to this little glowball here for some reason:

Apologies. I was supposed to have had this ready for you before you "left" this place, but other matters required my attention. In any case, this should grant to you the local language, or a form thereof, as a side benefit. I am looking into the anomalies that we discussed, although you may not remember them all until the right time. I apologize for the secrecy, but all will be made apparent in time.

-"Watts"

So he knew my personal nickname for him as well, then. Alright, no big deal. He was already in a position to royally screw me over, and instead handed me phenomenal cosmic power. Even the agents of chaos, in that situation, would have just ganked my soul and been done with it, so he got that much, at least. Now then, need to get back to-

Harrisyn was staring at me slightly, having noticed me be a bit distracted after his question. I chose to head him off..verbally anyway.

"I've been better, really," I stated neutrally. "Thanks for the...accommodations. Now then, if you don't mind, I have a few questions I'd like answers to. As you can see, I'm in something of a state here…" I allowed myself to trail off, hoping to get at least a little info from the exchange.

"Now, now, none of that," Harrisyn replied, in a tone that was both knowing and lightly chiding. Seems he saw through my little verbal gambit. "I'm more than willing to answer whatever questions you may have. No fee, either. So ask away, son, and let's see where we stand, eh?"

Well shit. He was some kinda info broker? Or maybe something else… "so, where am I, exactly? I got a little...displaced from my usual haunts. Need to get my bearings back, yeah?"

"That, my friend is a simple answer. You currently stand in the area known as the drips, home of many of the feeder pipes for the upper areas of the hive. As you can probably tell from the name, there are some...issues with the containment." He gave a small chuckle as he said this. " but you are probably looking for a more broad sense, arentcha? This is Hive Primus, on the planet of Necromunda. Welcome, welcome, and please enjoy your stay." He laughed outright, this time.

I, however, was Very Impressed. And more than a little concerned, if I stood out so much as to immediately be considered an offworlder. Granted, being a six-foot plus black guy tends to be noticeable in most areas, from my personal experience, but still…I would need to be careful in my dealings going forward.

I also very carefully did not reach for my weapon, a fact that was both noticed and appreciated.

"Good, good. You know not to draw down on just anyone." Harrisyn seemed to be ever more adept at weaseling out things that he hadn't been told. Was it something on my face? "That will help you going forward. Now then, friend, since we have the time, let's talk, shall we?"

He gestured to the couch, and chairs that were sitting around the room that I hadn't really paid attention to before.

"Yes, let's talk...about our future "


It is the 41st Millennium.

For more than a hundred centuries The Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the Master of Mankind by the will of the gods, and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truly die.

Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from aliens, heretics, mutants - and worse.

To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.

And yet, for one, brief moment, the laughter ceased. The Immaterium stood silent.

And instead of the laughter of thirsting gods, there was but one, single, tune.

The Ringing of a Forge of Stars.


Current Perks:

START|-Workshop (Personal Reality Supplement v1.3) (100CP)

Each purchase of this adds to your Personal Reality, a Workshop needed to perform a specific type of craft, which is to be specified when purchase is made. It comes with a basic set of tools and supplies. Good for fixing or creating all sorts of things, although any complex parts or nonstandard supplies will have to be brought in from outside.

Additional purchases can add different types of Workshops to your Personal Reality or expand existing ones. Anything built in one of those workshops is fiat backed to be restored to its original condition within 48 hours if damaged or destroyed

* Grants fiat backing to anything constructed within

START|-Inertia of Self II (Essential Body Modification Supplement) (200CP)

You are protected against effects that would affect your mind and existence.

I: You are immune to any effect that would affect your memories. If someone turns back time, alters reality, or attempts to directly alter your memories, you retain both the 'original' and 'new' memories, instinctively knowing which set is which. Other than your two sets of memories, this perk does nothing to tell you who changed things or even what they specifically changed if it isn't otherwise obvious.

II: You are immune to any effect that would alter or outright destroy your body or existence. This protection extends to conceptual, temporal, and reality warping effects that work either directly or indirectly to destroy or alter you. This would prevent a time traveler from killing you as a baby or causing an accident that would leave present-you paralyzed. It would not protect you from a fireball created through temporal manipulation or having a time traveler frame you for a crime that lands you in prison.

START|-Not a Stupid Grunt (Mass Effect) (100CP)

That you are not. You are smart enough to be the foremost scientist in your field. This doesn't make you so, but you could get there on your own with not a terrible amount of effort. Still not as smart as a drell, but hey, who is?

-Class and Specialization

-Engineer (Focus: Tech): Engineers are pure technology specialists. Although they lack the implants that most other classes wield, they make up for it with their high-spec military grade omni-tools, capable of bypassing shields and armor or incapacitating robotic targets and some synthetics. They can deploy combat drones to harass enemies.

-Mechanic – A more purely focus Engineer. From fighters and frigates to Mass Effect fields and automated machines, you know your way around and are aside fairly versed in mechanical theory. You might not know how to build something, but you can almost certainly figure it out with time.

-N7 Demolisher (Restricted: Human) – Alliance special forces. The Demolisher uses grenades to attack at range and to terrorize the battlefield. Demolishers can also create a supply pylon that stocks allies and yourself with a seemingly unending reserve of grenades and thermal reloads. You can cause your grenades to hone and or electrify them with an EMP. Your omni-tool optionally has an explosive effect on impact.

-Sub-Dermal Translator Implants (Free: All Origins) – The ever-present and rarely spoken of most common personal technology in this world. Implanted into your head, presumably ears, and allows you to understand nearly all common and almost all rare spoken languages in the form of English. Can be updated with new software via wifi.

START|-Scavenger (Ravenwood) (100CP)

Sometimes, you do not have the luxury of top of the line equipment and need to rely on what scraps you can salvage. You, however, have an advantage, being able to cobble together scavenged bits into functional equipment that work as well as the real deal. This talent will also inherently improve the durability of such improvised equipment to function even when such materials should not feasible hold up under the strains of use.

CH.001|-Rites of Maintenance (Warhammer 40k - Adeptus Mechanicus) (100CP)

While already designed to be incredibly robust, Imperial equipment inevitably requires maintenance. You can locate and identify problems within a machine in a fraction of the time it would take other adepts. Not knowing how a machine functions does not make fixing it any more difficult so long as you have the proper parts, tools, and rituals to guide your hands.

-(Freebie) Lingua-Technis

Known only to the devotees of the Machine God despite the best efforts of outsiders over millennia,the adepts of Mars speak to each other in bursts of binaric code. This allows for a great deal of information to be communicated quickly and discreetly. Even if somehow translated, it is a complex language thick with ancient and arcane terminology that few outsiders could ever hope to make any sense of. This language and your implants allow you to communicate quickly with other adepts, transferring messages and code many times faster than ordinary speech.

-**Also comes with High and Low Gothic, Per Author**