Cold, trembling...
With a strange sensation of vibration, Hogg opened his eyes. Then he heard a voice beside him:
"Not bad. You're the most talented one in this batch, much better than that red-skinned brute from before. Get up and go collect your gear from the quartermaster, rookies."
Looking at the big dog in front of him, who was talking to himself and wearing blood-red Power Armour, and the dog Servitor beside him with its distinctly Imperial look, Hogg had no idea what was going on. Wasn't he supposed to be inside a transit capsule? How had he ended up in this godforsaken place?
But Hogg didn't make a fuss. He obediently followed the Dog-man soldier's orders, and under the red laser scan from the dog Servitor's eyes, received an identity QR code: number 2234.
The moment he came to his senses, Hogg also noticed something strange about his body—especially his short, thick, unusually powerful arm. It was nothing like the dog paw he was used to.
As the bizarre creatures around him gradually woke up, Hogg finally learned where he was: a recruitment world called Gors III. They were all subject races under the Dog-man Empire, being conscripted as part of the local tax levy.
Hogg's head was throbbing. Ever since he'd woken up, he'd felt terribly weak, as if sealed away. He couldn't use Psionic Energy at all, and even the C'tan Power that had once shown some promise seemed to have vanished completely.
Thanks to his higher-dimensional nature, Hogg couldn't die. But as he'd left the spacetime tunnel, he really had heard a consciousness chuckle in his ear.
Setting that useless Tzeentch aside—even as a Chaos God, he couldn't distort himself—there was only one possible answer: the Warp Entity, which had it in for him.
Perhaps noticing