The starry sky is endless, and so is our desire for it. Peace will never belong to people like us. From the moment we made the oath, only endless war awaits us.
---------------------------------This sentence is recorded in the history books of the Empire. It was said by Sigismund, the captain of the First Company of the Imperial Fists during the Great Crusade.
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"A ruthless offspring born in the last days of the Age of Ignorance, you will serve the Lord of Terra, become a dark creature that prays to the living, and killing will be your life's mission. You will have a heart of steel, you will be fearless, you will sweep across the land, and you will become the most outstanding warrior."
An old woman from the Lunar Gene Church stood in front of a boy with terrified eyes.
"He is classified as Category 7, with psychological and physical characteristics of Category 12 and Category 16. Everything is within the tolerable range."
The boy was fixed on the operating table, and the glaring light made it impossible for him to open his eyes.
"Sigismund, we have all sworn an oath to fight wherever the sword points to, never stop, and be loyal forever."
The sturdy war angel wearing yellow power armor knelt on one knee and took the long sword handed over by an old soldier.
"We are true brothers, Kahn and Sigismund. The friendship and oath between us are countless times stronger than the chains on our hands."
A sturdy man with a body covered with hideous scars like a giant centipede slapped another sturdy man on the shoulder.
"It is a fateful choice, Sigismund. Die in the flames, or stand upon Terra."
The woman stood before a war angel in yellow armor.
"You are no longer my son, and whatever your future holds, it will never be again. Pride has blinded you, Sigismund, and it is to that power that Horus fell."
A face that was too noble to be described in words was now distorted with anger.
"Sigismund's abilities sometimes fail to keep up with his abilities."
A giant in yellow armor fought against a purple, half-human, half-snake monster wearing an armor full of blasphemy.
The battle between the two was earth-shattering and shocking.
"Defend the sanctuary and never retreat."
Roaring monsters and traitors came like a tide, and the lonely warriors stood in blood.
"The Legion will be split, and you are the First Chapter Master of the Black Templars."
A curtain falls, and a lonely voice rings out, filled with sorrow.
"The battle never stops, and the expedition never ends."
A fleet of warships crossed the sky and roamed in the starry sky.
"I have sworn an oath, Abaddon, that one day I will kill you all."
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Fragmented memories keep emerging from my mind.
The shouting rang in his ears.
It was like a seal had been opened.
Ancient memories poured out like a tide.
"Innonus." Tears welled up in the man's eyes as he uttered his first word.
That is where I was born.
Countless terrible memories show that it was a horrible place.
In the ancient long night, it was occupied by the lost ones.
Dry riverbeds and desolate mountains lie there.
At that time, Terra was like this everywhere.
Humanity huddles and lingers in the ruins left by the wars of its ancestors.
Ghosts of the dead haunt the shadows and night of Innonus.
Thousands of people gathered from all directions to that place where there was no order, only chaos.
The camp of debris and rags stretched to the end of the horizon and touched the edge of the world.
Chaos, betrayal and death.
All the despicable human nature has the opportunity to be performed in the chaotic land of Innonus.
Perpetual chaos is the norm in Innonus.
Even for a tyrant who longs to rule, Innonus is a place that cannot be avoided.
Those monarchs who buried their palaces and tombs deep in the mountains left their mark on this land.
They are the witch kings of stories, legends of ghostly laughter in ruined palaces.
Killer gangs would roam the streets at night with sharp knives and crown blades.
The cries of the dead will become part of the dark chorus like the roars of wild beasts.
In the spring, strong winds would bring fresh, slightly cold air from the north, blowing the stench of corpses off the land.
In summer, the furnace-like sun scorches the earth, steals saliva from people's mouths, and tempts madmen to bite travelers' throats in order to get precious water.
In the fall, the smell of carcasses wafts through the mountains, attracting scavenging birds.
In winter, frozen corpses lie on the snowy ground, waiting to be eaten by hungry people.
Innonus is a hopeless place.
Men are born and grow from there.
His mind was filled with fragments of memory, and he had to work hard to sort them out.
"The gods of death are coming, they come to choose, they will make us immortal."
A figure with a skull mask on his face and various horrific tattoos on his body jumped out from the dusty memory.
His body was genetically enhanced and abnormally strong, like the monsters created by the devil in those horror stories.
The slightly smaller head mounted on the huge body gave a weird feeling of disharmony.
A boy who looked a little thin held a sharp piece of iron and stabbed it into the opponent's chest.
If you look closely, you can see that one of the boy's hands has a broken bone.
There was also a big cut on his forehead, and blood was flowing down his cheek, mixing with the dust.
The boy's eyes were full of determination.
The veins on the hand that grasped the iron sheet bulged, and he used all his strength to slash the target's chest.
The masked man screamed.
The boy cut a hole in his sturdy chest.
Blood spurted out and the beating heart was faintly visible.
A low, painful roar was heard, and the boy was thrown away by the other party's hand.
After rolling on the ground for several times, it finally stopped and lay there motionless.
The man whose chest was cut open put his hand over his chest, trying to stop the bleeding.
After a moment, the man's groaning disappeared.
He just died with his eyes wide open.
The boy felt as if his internal organs had shifted out of place and unimaginable pain was emanating from his body.
puff!
He spat out a mouthful of blood.
He raised his head when he heard heavy footsteps.
A giant in iron armor stood before him.
The giant's body was gray like a dark cloud, covered in curved plate armor.
The raised respirator and grille give the whole head a bit of a locomotive look.
There is a red light where the eyes should be.
He wore a gun of astonishing caliber and a giant serrated sword on his waist.
The boy opened his mouth.
Fear took over his mind, squeezing his rationality into an invisible corner.
"The target is qualified."
The giant's voice was extremely cold, as if it came from hell.
The boy raised his crude weapon and slashed it toward the opponent just above the knee.
That is one of the most vulnerable parts of the human body. A slight cut can sever the nerves, damage the muscle groups, and make it impossible for the person to run.
The boy underestimated the thickness of the opponent's armor, and after a series of sparks, he only scraped off the paint on the opponent's armor.
His movement caused the giant to tilt his head, and a strange sound came from under the barred respirator.
After a while, the boy realized that it was the other person's laughter.
The giant easily grabbed the boy, immobilizing him, stuffed him into a huge aircraft, and took him to a giant genetic modification facility.
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That was the beginning of his birth.
Countless fragments of memory were pieced together.
More and more images appeared in his mind.
Classify, evaluate, screen, and identify.
Experiments and surgeries.
Many people died, but some lucky ones survived the most difficult times.
He put on the giant-like armor, entered the Seventh Legion, and started one extremely brutal battle after another.
There were many times when he almost died at the hands of the enemy, but he managed to survive again.
His face was covered with scars and he no longer looked like he used to.
After the victory at Ullanor, he and the Primarch Dorn returned to Terra.
The Horus Heresy broke out on Yinstavan.
During the Horus War.
Sigismund remained in the solar system.
After a major rebellion broke out on Mars, he led four companies to Mars to quell the rebellion.
However, enemy resistance was too strong and the fighters were unable to maintain control of the objective.
Sigismund's mission then became "to evacuate as many supplies and personnel as possible."
Bad news came from Instavan V, the Punishment Fleet was massacred by traitors, with only a few survivors.
Originally, Sigismund was supposed to lead the Punishment Fleet to Instavan, but because of the words of the first living saint, Euphrates Keele, he gave up going to Instavan and stayed with Dorne.
The Punishment Fleet was defeated at Instavan V, and the battle-brother who succeeded him in command ultimately died there.
When he confessed, Dorn was furious.
When anyone thinks that the world cannot function without him, he has fallen.
Because arrogance is the root of downfall.
Shameful, Sigismund asked the Primarch to take his life as punishment for his mistakes.
Dorn refused.
The Primarch continued to keep him in his original position to avoid affecting the morale of the Solar System defenders.
But he no longer recognized Sigismund as his own son.
He was appointed commander of the outermost defense of the solar system.
While the rebels and the loyalists were engaged in a bloody battle in the Beta-Galmon galaxy, the Alpha Legion, under the orders of the Warmaster, carried out sabotage and infiltration into the solar system.
With the Emperor and the Custodes mired in the Webway War and Prime Minister Malcador busy with deployments for the Shadow War, the burden of the defense of the Solar System fell on the shoulders of the VII Legion.
Sigismund led his fleet and the Alpha Legion in the Battle of Pluto.
Horus marched to Terra, seeking to take the Emperor's place.
Sigismund first led the defense of Pluto, then retreated to Terra and joined the Siege of Terra.
He slit Kahn's throat and spat on his former brother in chains.
He challenged the ascended demon Fulgrim, but was defeated and almost killed. He was finally saved by Dorn.
When the last wall was broken, he and the other warriors retreated to the sanctuary.
He was ordered to hold the Sanctuary while the Emperor and Dorn made their way to Horus' flagship.
After the Horus Heresy, an enraged Sigismund sought to hunt down Abaddon, the Captain of the First Company of the Sons of Horus, but was always stopped by others.
After the Horus Heresy, the Legion was split.
Sigismund formed the Black Templars with the most fanatical Imperial Fists warriors and served as the first Grand Marshal, or chapter leader.
He then launched a Great Crusade of the Highest Faith, building unity within the Chapter and bringing unrest to the enemies of the Imperium.
Sigismund firmly believed that Abaddon's traitors would return one day.
So he took a Black Templar fleet to keep watch near the Cadia Gate.
When Abaddon launched his first Black Crusade.
The duel between the two that spanned centuries broke out again.
Unfortunately, Sigismund was already old at the time.
He has lived for a thousand years and is no longer in his prime.
After severely wounding Abaddon, Sigismund was eventually cut in two.
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"My name is Sigismund." The man whispered his name.
As his voice rang out, lightning and thunder flashed in the sky and wolves howled in the wilderness.
He looked at the old man in ragged robes and searched his memory for everything about him.
The Prime Minister of the Empire, the Emperor's right-hand man, an old man with countless secrets, the Magic Mark - Malcador.
"It seems that I am dead too." Sigismund looked around, gazing at the wasteland in the distance and the approaching storm.
The howling of wolves could be heard in the distance.
Ferocious laughter and angry shouts mixed in with the hot wind.
Malcador smiled.
"Perhaps, but this is not the end."
"Does the ending and the non-ending still have any meaning to us dead people? We are all dead. I finally saw the beast Abaddon. He came back with hatred."
Malcador nodded, walked over to a boulder, and leaned against it, giving his old body some time to rest.
"You are full of pessimism, just as you were before. During the Great Crusade, you felt that it would never end, that the galaxy would forever be shrouded in war."
"But I was right in the end, even if it was not what I expected," Sigismund said. "The flames of war will always burn, and human desires will never be satisfied. Now, with the greed of the gods and the hatred of the traitors, the war will continue to burn until everything is reduced to ruins."
"It is true, then and now," Malcador said in a voice full of age. "The flames of war will never cease, from a past too distant to be recorded to a future too distant to be imagined. The only difference is who wins. The gods won briefly, and now they must pay their due."
"I don't understand," Sigismund whispered.
"You don't need to understand. You just need to swing your sword as before and fulfill your unfinished mission."
"But I no longer have a chance. Life and death are the laws of the universe. If I die, can I still interfere in the kingdom of the living?" Sigismund looked towards the terrible storm.
There were flashes of lightning and thunder, and the dark clouds were so heavy that they seemed to be falling to the ground.
That terrifying outline was like an abyss that swallowed the soul.
Malcador stroked the scepter in his hand. "It depends on your will. It was a very difficult thing to do before, but now it is not difficult. As long as you are willing, you can return to the real world. It's like the rebirth of a demon."
"What you said is a bit metaphorical. Have humans also become demons?" Sigismund's face was full of traces left by the vicissitudes of life.
Malcador shrugged. "That's about right. In the Warp, humans' reputation is no better than that of the minions of the Four Gods."
"What does this mean?" Sigismund frowned slightly.
"You have to find the answers to many things yourself."
Malcador pointed in a direction.
A new road appeared in the wasteland that was originally burned by high temperatures and shrouded by storms, leading to a more distant place.
"If you want to return to the real universe, just follow this road. They are all waiting for you to return."
"who are they?"
"Why not find the answer yourself? It's at the end of the road, in the real universe. Those who left will come back and continue to fight in the never-ending war."
Sigismund looked toward the newly appeared road.
It stretches all the way to the end of the horizon, with no end in sight.
After hesitating for a moment, Sigismund made a decision and set out on that path.
"Please wait." Malcador's voice came.
Sigismund turned his head and looked over.
Malcador came over with a water bag. "You look thirsty. Perhaps you should drink some water before you go on. Those guys won't let you go back so easily. You may have to fight."
Sigismund licked his cracked lips with his dry tongue. He had forgotten how long it had been since he had a drink of water.
He nodded, bent his knees slightly and crouched down, so that his head was slightly lower than Makado's hand.
He was wearing armor and had no way of picking up the water bag.
Malcador poured water into Sigismund's mouth.
First small sips, then continuous gulps.
Sigismund felt that his body was getting better. His thirsty cells greedily absorbed the water and regained their activity.
When he stood up again, he felt much better.
The mind is no longer muddled.
"Go, Sigismund," said Malcador.
"What about you?"
"You are not the only one who is lost. I have to act as a guide for them."
Sigismund nodded, gave Malcador one last look, and turned on his way.
When he walked some distance away and looked back, everything had disappeared.
The road behind him, Malcador, and the huge rock that the other party was leaning on had disappeared.
The howling of wolves came from afar, and Sigismund could hear their anger.
He realized something, turned around and started running.
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"By signing this contract, you will be able to break free from Nurgle's control, gain greater power, and escape your current torment."
"Nurgle is no longer able to protect its domain. The great Emperor of the Empire is the future of the Warp. Recognize the truth and give up that damned blind loyalty."
Vashtor said temptingly as he looked at the struggling demon.
Some demons followed Corax to participate in the war against Nurgle's realm.
Battles broke out between the two sides in both the physical universe and the warp realm.
The Empire would drag some demons from the Warp into the physical universe, then capture them and force them to serve the Empire.
The means are extremely cruel.
Vashtor, however, enjoyed doing this and stuffed large numbers of demons into his latest engine, building a mechanical demon army of his own.
A Nurgle demon with a rotten body, covered with pus and tumors and a single horn spat out a mouthful of thick phlegm.
"You can destroy our defenses, but you can never defeat us, you cowards who surrendered to humanity. Those damned bastards will be expelled from the Great Father, and you will suffer, and live in eternal torment."
"Put it into the disposable demon engine. If it doesn't want to surrender, we will help it surrender." Vashtor said coldly: "I hope I admire your courage as much as your mouth."
With a wave of Vashtor's hand, several demons with the Sky Eagle Curse on their bodies came up, dragged the unicorn demon down, and threw it into the furnace.