I am Rogal Dorn

Clad in steel, heart like stone! Even if the mountains crumble and the rivers break, even if the galaxy falls into Silence, some things can never change.

In the wondrous Warp, time can no longer serve as an anchor to measure things; only a truly powerful will can be your sole reliance against any corruption.

"Waaagh! For Ork Brother Dorn, krump those wretched greenskin scum!"

Watching the swarming Orks before him, Malphite, Warmaster of the Evil Orcs, felt not a shred of pity. Even after ten thousand years, he strictly followed the teachings of Hogg: never show mercy to xenos, for the only good xeno is a dead xeno.

Moreover, if he could not wipe out these Warbosses, the Phalanx would never reach Gork and Mork to break this Great Krumpin that had lasted for ten millennia.

Seeing Malphite imitating Magnus by brooding at the window again, Rogal Dorn felt a sense of strangeness despite having spent ten thousand years together. It was impossible that Hogg had added his brother's genes when creating them, right? Otherwise, why were they all red?

Like a Reef, Dorn stood by the window in his golden armor, pondering this ultimate question he might never solve in his lifetime.

Red, green, and the tides of death-beasts collided. In this vast, boundless Warp, thunderous roars echoed everywhere, and two colossal phantoms stood in the firmament, watching the spectacular performance of the countless boyz below.

Whenever the toughest, meanest, and most Waaagh-filled boy became a boss, whether he was red or green, the brutal Gork would bestow his blessing, and the cunning Mork would seek out an equally tough opponent for him.

And when this battle-hardened boss defeated his foe, memories from the depths of the species' collective consciousness would compel Gork and Mork to grant the