Ascended Steroid Planet

According to unofficial historical records, the Emperor sat on Golden Throne, while Khorne sat on Brass Throne. Beneath these thrones, a terrifying behemoth was being repeatedly pulled by the two Chaos God.

To protect the Imperium of Man, the Holy Emperor did not hesitate to sit on this instrument of torture, using his powerful, cold hooks to engage in a tug-of-war with the Blood God.

This process took a full 10,000 years!

If the tug-of-war fails, countless Daemons will emerge from the human Webway beneath the throne; conversely, if the Emperor wins, countless Khorne's Daemon World will spring forth from the Khorne Realm.

Damn, putting aside who wrote this anecdote, what kind of terrifying behemoth could withstand the pull of two giants for 10,000 years? Slaanesh?

If true, then Tzeentch's move was truly ruthless, not only harming three wise men with one scheme but also allowing Slaanesh to die of pleasure.

This is no longer just ordinary blasphemy; it must Strike Hard severely!

Because this account was too far-fetched, the Grey Knights, having reached their limit, went through countless hardships to banish the Tzeentch Greater Daemon who compiled it, and consequently, the entire planet was subjected to Exterminatus.

Unfortunately, Daemon cannot die. The Greater Daemon who returned to the Warp did not give up, but he was then captured by a group of Bloodthirsty Demon who stormed into the Crystal Maze, and his whereabouts remain unknown to this day.

Previously, Magmus had dismissed these rumors as mere whispers, but now he genuinely believed them; otherwise, there was no way to explain why Guilliman had a dog's head.

"You despicable bastard, you actually went to such lengths to help Guilliman! Why didn't you plead for me back then? Father! Am I really that worthless to you?"

Upon hearing this, Rambo immediately cursed, "What bad luck! It's been ten thousand years, and Horus is still chasing me! Compared to him, my boss is the best. My master loves me, and I love my master!"

Rambo, now acting as a support character, barked loudly. Drawn by the Fel Energy resonance, a wooden biplane fixed-wing aircraft located deep within the Imperial Palace, firmly sealed by Stasis Field, began to roar.

Its unusual movement instantly attracted the Black Adeptus Custodes to investigate, but a golden light immediately pulled them back, along with a tattered message:

"Friends, delicious food, flames, three thousand."

This fragmented message gave the Adeptus Custodes a headache. Looking at the Emperor on the Golden Throne, the then-commander of the Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes, Little Cat, knelt on one knee and muttered to himself:

"My Lord, could you explain more clearly? You're even less fleshy than that Mechanicus, and you can barely drink water. I'm worried you'll have indigestion!"

As the Little Cat uttered these heartfelt words, the Emperor suddenly emitted a brilliant golden light, a phenomenon that greatly excited the Canned One of Corn.

Before they could even step forward to pay their respects, a Golden Psychic Brawl came hurtling through the air, slapping the Little Cat hard across the face and sending it flying three and a half times.

"My Lord, my understanding is so brilliant, why are you hitting me?"

Are you really hungry? But right now, besides using Psyker as firewood, you can't even drink water without getting a draft.

By the way, Your His Majesty, while consulting ancient texts, I found a method called enema therapy. Even without a mouth, one can still absorb nutrients, so perhaps...

Snap!

The familiar Psychic Power battle is about to begin, Little Cat takes to the air once again. However, this time the message it sends contains three more words. "Psychic Power, burn!"

Although he was subjected to two brutal beatings for no reason, and even had his helmet knocked off, in the eyes of others, this was divine revelation!

Now that things had come to this, everyone roughly understood the Emperor's meaning: 3000 it is, burn them quickly.

Contrary to rumors that the Emperor ate 1,000 Psyker as snacks every day, his main purpose was to maintain the Astronomican and, incidentally, stabilize the broken Webway beneath the Imperial Palace.

After all, even if they were unwilling to admit it, the Adeptus Custodes knew that the current Emperor was a ticking time bomb, and they were too busy deflating the pressure to add fuel to the fire.

With firewood added at twice the allotted quota, within the Emperor's body, on that chaotic battlefield composed of countless fragments of personality, a figure dressed in a long black dress with a gold necklace hanging from her chest raised her head.

If any Thunder Warriors still survive, they will recognize this place as Holy Terra, but the former tech warlords have all been replaced by the Emperor.

You are the Emperor, I am the Emperor, everyone is the Emperor. The endless Unification Wars has lasted for ten thousand years, and the Holy Terra beneath our feet is a super Golden Giant that is half-dead, an endless cage.

The endless killing had gradually numbed Makara, but she still remembered those 13 wonderful years of travel. "Damn Neos, you even lied to yourself, you despicable bastard!"

Despite the criticism, Makara, being part of the same Emperor group, still transferred her power, channeling it into the relic aircraft named Gatanothor.

Holy Terra has no shortage of souls—souls of criminals, nobles, saints, Xenos, and even a considerable number of Daemon.

The situation is chaotic and difficult to resolve. To put it bluntly, given the efficiency of human officials, the empire would have collapsed long ago. As for why it hasn't collapsed yet, that's a question for the hardworking and dedicated Daemon lurking within the government system.

Even in the Tzeentch, the most terrifying punishment was sending Daemon to serve as officials in the empire. It's fair to say that the empire's rubbish-like code is still functioning because it's entirely composed of bugs.

The Daemon souls who died from overwork have been imprisoned by Holy Terra and tormented repeatedly until now. Now they finally have a chance to be free, and they will not hesitate to die if necessary.

"Goodbye, cage, frog!"

The Fel Energy engine Roared, and even though it wasn't the real thing, the undead pilot named Makara instinctively gripped the control stick.

The proud silver wolf and the short-legged dog reappeared, just like that afternoon 40,000 years ago, still by her side.

Looking at the panting Guilliman before him, the more skilled Magnus smugly mocked:

"Guilliman, I admit you scared me, but the path of Psychic Power is not something a crude brute like you can handle."

Look at yourself now. Even if you attract Daemon to possess you, you'll just be a black Khorne.

Sigh, fine, since you've realized your mistake, I'll spare your life.

"You may escape the death penalty, but you won't escape punishment. Once I beat you to your knees, I'll capture you and take you to Planet of the Sorcerers for a good lesson."

But Guilliman, the Trinity, was not about to back down. He immediately retorted with a foul mouth, "Bah! You barking idiot, do you think you've won?"

You're nothing but a spineless dog.

I wonder who it was that had their back broken by Russ's kick. It couldn't have been you, could it? You one-eyed Sunburned Ogryn!

"You're asking for it!"

Magnus hated nothing more than hearing that Sunburned Ogryn his one eye, and secondly, being mentioned in front of him by that bastard Russ. Enraged, he spread his wings wide, unleashing his powerful Psychic Power to tear Guilliman to shreds.

However, at that very moment, despite the thin air on the Luna, a sharp roar echoed through the sky, and an old, dilapidated wooden airplane was wobbling as it flew from Terra toward the Luna.

This indescribable scene stunned everyone. Even the Daemon instinctively looked at the plane, especially the military Mechanicus, who let out sharp, explosive noises.

"Hey hey hey, I'm here!"

As soon as the words were spoken, the two dogs perched on the wings shot out, and the silver-white giant wolf grew larger and larger, eventually transforming into the Moon Wolves, which was comparable in size to the Vengeful Spirit, and began to tear apart the rebels and Daemon.

The little dog, however, had a cunning glint in its eyes, as if assessing a high-value target on the battlefield, before finally locking onto the large, red Magnus.

"Huh? Why is he looking at me! Don't come any closer!"

Even Daemon Primarch who had ascended to demonic status couldn't withstand the crushing force of a behemoth comparable to the Gloriana-class Battleship. If word got out that he had been crushed to death by a dog, Magnus would never be able to show his face again.

In the blink of an eye, the dog that had locked onto its target teleported behind Magnus and bit down on his gluteus maximus.

Then it transformed into Emerald Lightning and burrowed into the Daemon Primarch's body, giving Magnus no time to react.

The battlefield froze instantly, as if it had never existed. The silver-white giant wolf vanished, and the wooden airplane disappeared without a trace.

Magnus was puzzled. So all that cool entrance was just to bite my butt?

However, just as Magnus was about to kill Guilliman in one fell swoop, he suddenly heard Ahriman's exclamation:

"Father, your wings!"

"Wing?"

Magnus looked behind him and saw that his wings were shedding feathers rapidly. An indescribable soreness surged through his body, and perfectly sculpted muscles were rapidly emerging, bursting through his sorcerer's armor.

Nine seconds later, the original sorcerer vanished, leaving only a muscular, overweight man dressed in very little clothing.

With the powerful magical energy gone, no matter how much Magnus tried to channel his Psychic Power, it was ineffective, only causing his massive muscles to bulge wildly.

With his red skin, he was practically a second Angron. "No, Lord of Change, save me!"

Unfortunately, Magnus's mournful cry did not attract the Lord of Change. Instead, a crimson dog's head emerged from the void, stared at him for a full eight seconds, and after confirming that it was not Angron, a pair of large hands descended from the sky and directly abducted him.

This sudden turn of events startled everyone, and they surrounded Ahriman, who was still standing there. He cried out in alarm, "Wait for me, Father! I haven't gotten on the bus yet!"

Meanwhile, a thousand years ago aboard the Abomination, Mordred, watching Magnus's muscles shrink drastically and he become as skinny as Mortarion, finally realized one thing:

"Little Horse, you're deflated!"