"What happened?"
Arthur rushed over at once. The stray psychic lightning did nothing to him.
He grabbed Ramesses and looked at his face, but all he could see was a vast expanse of blank nothingness.
Don't tell me some Chaos God got hold of him.
Facing Arthur's worried gaze, the Thousand Son's chaotic eyes focused. Then Ramesses opened his mouth.
He stretched out a hand, and his voice echoed through the Sanctum—a tone that had been ringing in everyone's ears since ancient times.
"Send me fifty."
"..."
Arthur withdrew his hand expressionlessly. Romulus resisted the urge to blow his head apart with a Melta, while Karna put away the Power Spear he had been ready to throw, wearing an expression that said he had known it. Then they all transferred their points over.
"Ah—back from the dead."
Having accepted these quantified souls, Ramesses let out a long breath. He spun his staff and lightly tapped the hull. An unnamed pulse spread outward through the metal, and the flesh on the ground began turning into scattered dust that vanished into the air.
At the same time, Arthur and the others sensed a mysterious connection dragging them out of the Warp and into another realm.
Then a sensation of weightlessness rose from beneath their feet. Everything inside the Navigator Sanctum began floating, before falling to the floor all at once as it was caught by the ship's gravity.
Arthur rolled his ankles. His connection to the Safe House did not seem to have weakened at all.
Bang!
The armour covering the Navigator Sanctum split open at that moment. Through the glass, the view outside was no longer the bizarre chaos of the Warp, but a silent, profound starfield.
Then the Thousand Sons Librarian, clad in Mk II Crusade Armour from 30k, landed steadily on the ground.
"What's going on?"
Arthur stepped forward with his fists clenched. If this bastard could not give him a proper explanation, he was going to punch him in the forehead.
"Hey, hey, don't rush. Don't rush."
Ramesses hurriedly raised his hands in surrender.
"If I hadn't reacted, we probably wouldn't have gotten out of the Warp before the battleship broke apart. A Void Whale passed in front of us just now. If I hadn't burned souls at the last second to put up a thicker shield, we could really be the dungeon bosses of a Space Hulk by now."
"...So what were you screaming about just now?"
Arthur released him as well, raising a hand to rub his forehead in irritation.
Anyone who did not know better would have thought Ramesses had been possessed by something filthy. He had scared the life out of them.
"I got flashbanged."
Ramesses awkwardly wiped his faceplate.
"That Void Whale was pretty big. It blocked the Astronomican's light, and I accidentally mistook the Emperor himself for the Astronomican's glow. Nearly gave my eyes astigmatism."
The facts proved it had merely been a false alarm.
"...Looks like you're doing fine if you can still joke around."
Romulus pulled over a chair and sat down.
"What, you took fifty from us and you're not treating everyone to Crazy Thursday?"
His buttocks, wrapped in electronic muscle bundles, snapped the armrests right off. The contrast between the tiny chair and his enormous body was rather comical.
No one paid it any mind, though. They all found the most comfortable positions they could and formed a circle.
In theory, Realspace in the 40k era was not much better than the Warp, but it was relatively safe. At least they did not have to worry about the road beneath their feet suddenly growing a mouth and taking a bite out of them.
"Oh, right, right. Crazy Thursday. Eat up, eat whatever you want."
A lavish spread of cola and fried chicken appeared on the open ground between the four of them at his command.
Taking off his wizard mask, Ramesses gulped down some cola. Looking at these three familiar yet unfamiliar companions beside him, he let out a hearty laugh brimming with enthusiasm.
"At least there are still people in this world who get that reference."
"Oh, that poor bastard on the Golden Throne probably gets it too. Shame he can't come down. Past, present, future—he has to stay welded to that thing, watching this shithole rot worse and worse."
Ramesses seemed to be laughing mockingly, but as he laughed, he began to cry.
"Fuck, living alone in a shithole like this... Did you see those Mutants? They aren't even fucking human. And those Servitors—I want to puke just looking at them."
"Everyone in the Navigator Sanctum had their tongues cut out. They were all just expendable materials. Did you see that pile of minced flesh? Before I could even react, they were all killed and sacrificed. And they said it was for the Emperor. What kind of cult is this? Those goddamn things—I can burn Demons, why would I need them?"
"It's already the four-hundredth millennium. How could humanity sink to such depths?"
Everyone knew games were games. Whatever you did in a game was fake, and every action existed to provide emotional value for you personally. You did not need to care about morality or reality.
But reality was reality. It was something else entirely.
Even when driving through the city, they were careful to yield to pedestrians. Before getting married and having children, they would wonder whether they could provide their children with enough. What everyone yearned for was order and beauty. How could they possibly endure life in a place like the Warhammer World?
Yet ever since they had awakened, everything they saw had been violating their values every second of every day.
Earlier, among the Astra Militarum forces, Arthur and Romulus had both deliberately ignored the Servitors chanting beside the Sisters and helping the Astra Militarum transport logistical supplies.
They respected the Sisters' faith and admired the Astra Militarum's courage, but they really could not stomach those things with half-human faces, things they could not even tell were human or not.
"Thank goodness. Thank goodness I have you guys. I'm not alone."
Ramesses hooked Arthur and Karna under his arms, one on each side, and bawled his eyes out.
Unlike the others, whose past lives had been relatively ordinary and comfortable, Ramesses was the kind of super-rich second-generation heir who could afford physical tabletop miniatures. Though they had not met offline many times, their everyday chats had made it clear just how carefree and exciting his life was.
Even Arthur dearly missed his warm little home. The moment he had arrived here, he had fallen into a berserk state where he did not want to think about anything. Ramesses was even worse.
For a person like that to be thrown overnight into a shithole like the Warhammer World, the psychological gap was easy to imagine.
Arthur forcefully patted Ramesses on the shoulder, sighed, and casually grabbed a box of chicken nuggets.
Staring at the packaging, Arthur activated his air circulation system and gave it a light sniff.
His mind analyzed the complex scents contained within. After that unfamiliar sensation came an inexplicable feeling of familiarity.
Other than the companions at his side, this table of fast food was the only thing Arthur had encountered since crossing over that felt familiar.
But...
"Ha..."
Arthur put down the chicken nuggets.
Even this familiar creation had been made moments ago through some power they did not know the source of.
He raised his head and looked around.
The profound starfield beyond the porthole, the luxurious yet unfamiliar decor, and the four of them encased in iron armour, already nothing like they had been in his memories...
Everything around them constantly reminded them of one fact.
This was no longer the world they loved.
Before you continue