A Miserable Start

In the low-lying White Corn fields of Barbarus,

a sturdy little boy with a pale face was laboriously hoeing the soil.

His name was Hades. In his previous life, he had been an Earth-dwelling shut-in named He Shi. While painting a GW Death Guard Plague Marine miniature, he had suddenly blacked out. When he opened and closed his eyes again, he had become a newborn on the Death World of Barbarus.

At first, he had known nothing. He only knew he had been reborn into a world deeply hostile to humanity. It was not until his haggard parents taught him to speak and told him that the land beneath his feet was called Barbarus that he understood.

Emperor above!!! Fucking Barbarus??

This was the fucking world of Warhammer!!!

Hades felt like he could cough up blood on the spot.

Barbarus—what kind of place was that?

Barbarus was a famous Death World in the Warhammer universe, the homeland of the Primarch Mortarion. The entire planet was blanketed in poisonous miasma capable of killing people. Humanity could only survive in low-lying regions where the toxic gas concentration was relatively low, while the true Alien Lords of the planet lived in mountain fortresses shrouded by the densest poison clouds.

Humans had never been the masters of this planet. They were merely livestock being raised.

Whenever the planet's brief daylight ended, the poisonous gas slowly seeped into the lowlands. Strange pale creatures laughed as they frolicked through the toxic fog, leisurely surrounding villages and choosing their future slaves.

There was no resistance. Humanity had long been frightened out of its wits. They hid in their villages and prayed they would not be chosen.

Some of those selected were killed on the spot. Others were dragged to the fortresses in the mountains, where countless spells and experiments awaited these little white mice. Humans were materials to be cut apart, then grotesquely stitched back together and granted new life through Witchcraft, becoming the lords' eternal slaves.

The humans here had no hope. Just like the world of Warhammer itself, there was only eternal darkness.

Hades really wanted to smash his head against something and start over. He had already been very restrained, forcing himself not to cry like a Gretchin that had had its toes stepped on.

He might have been a transmigrator, but he did not have a single cheat ability! Where was the promised slaughter spree for transmigrators?!

With his current tiny body, even the weakest Xenos could crush him to death.

As a transmigrator, Hades knew where this world was headed, but that was not a good thing.

The reason was simple: this was a world where thoughts themselves possessed power.

This world consisted of the physical realm and the Warp. As humans, their flesh existed in the physical realm, while their souls cast flame-like reflections in the Warp.

Among humans, those more closely connected to the Warp were called Psykers. Psykers could wield the power of the Warp—Psychic Power. They could create energy with their bare hands that clearly defied the laws of physics. The powerful Alpha-level Psykers could even destroy planets with a single hand.

But becoming a Psyker was not necessarily a good thing.

Because their connection to the Warp was closer, the spark of their souls shone brighter and appeared more enticing, drawing the attention of the creatures within the Warp.

Those malicious beings would whisper to Psykers through the Warp, driving them insane, twisting their thoughts, and turning them into eternal slaves. And the more frequently they used Psychic Power, the brighter their little flame became, the more easily Warp Entities noticed them, and the more easily they were corrupted.

Hades had tested himself. He discovered he had no talent for Psychic Power and could not even produce a tiny spark. Though disappointed, he also felt increasingly fortunate—

A person's soul and thoughts truly did create ripples in the Warp, and as a transmigrator, Hades knew knowledge that was obviously forbidden.

If someone's thoughts caught the interest of a powerful Warp Entity, then the consequences... Hades did not even dare think about them.

In fact, from the moment Hades realized he was in the world of Warhammer, he had immediately forced himself to control his thoughts and never think about the gods of the Warp.

The moment he thought of knowledge related to them, he would probably be noticed by those four Chaos Gods at once!

But what Hades did not know was that his so-called "transmigrator" constitution, along with the planet he had descended upon, had barely allowed him to escape the gods' gaze.

.

So, for now, Hades could only recall and contemplate knowledge about the early days of the Imperium of Man.

Humanity in this world had once flourished through technological development and colonized countless planets throughout the galaxy. However, after experiencing the Iron Men Rebellion—namely, the AI rebellion—and ■■■■, human civilization had shattered and was on the verge of extinction.

Turbulent times produced great men. Just as humanity was about to perish, a man named the Emperor stepped forward!!!

The Emperor, the most badass Perpetual in human history, the strongest Psyker—strong enough to instantly kill Warp Entities—the ruler of Terra, the commander-in-chief of the expeditionary forces...

This great man, who had always concealed his identity, unified Terra, divided among warlords, with lightning speed. He then created the Space Marines, allied with Mars, and launched the Great Crusade to reclaim human planets that had lost contact because of ■■■■, as well as seize planets occupied by Xenos.

To ensure the success of the Great Crusade, the Emperor personally used his own genes as a template to create twenty-one Primarchs. Every one of those Primarchs possessed wisdom, strength, and talent beyond the reach of ordinary mortals. Some could see through the essence of every physical and mathematical formula at a glance, some could split a Warhound-class Titan in half with one sword strike, and some could handle the governmental affairs of hundreds of planets at once.

Well, in fact, most of the Primarchs could do all of the above. They simply specialized in different areas.

The twenty Astartes Legions created using their genes as templates were the main force of the Great Crusade.

These hulking giants, around two to three meters tall, each possessed hidden talents and boundless charisma. Ordinary mortals would be profoundly shaken just by seeing them!

Without exaggeration, someone at that level would be an invincible chosen hero in any other setting. Yet in the world of Warhammer, even Primarchs, even the Emperor, ultimately...

He could not think any further in that direction!

Hades abruptly stopped himself.

Anyway, in the end, half the Primarchs rebelled and became neither human nor monster, while the Emperor was trapped on Terra...

After the Crusade, humanity's brilliant destiny became bleak once again—

—but none of that had anything to do with Hades, who was currently digging through the dirt for food.

.

Among the memories from his previous life, the most useful ones at present were those related to Mortarion, Primarch of the Fourteenth Legion Death Guard.

The twenty-one Primarchs had been scattered throughout the universe by a Warp storm in the Emperor's laboratory. The planet where Primarch Mortarion landed was Barbarus.

In the original lore, Mortarion had been adopted by the strongest Alien Lord living in the mountains. He was treated as the lord's war machine, abused throughout his childhood. Before he could even stand, he had been thrown into beast pits; he had been cast into Barbarus's lethal acid rain; he had been made to fight other Alien Lords...

Even as a Primarch, he had not been so powerful in childhood. Moreover, his alien foster father was the strongest Psyker on the planet. Thus, Mortarion spent a miserable childhood in this manner.

Such a tragic childhood had shaped Mortarion's twisted and conflicted personality—laying the groundwork for his eventual betrayal of the Emperor after the Emperor found him.

Of course, Mortarion's final betrayal... also involved the methods of ■■■■ in the Warp.

But that was far in the future. The nearest event for Hades should be Mortarion escaping his foster father's control, leading the people of Barbarus to form a resistance army, and overthrowing alien oppression.

Then, at the final moment, when he faced his foster father, the Emperor stole his kill, planting the seeds of hatred between them...

But for a long time afterward, Mortarion merely quietly took command of the Fourteenth Legion and silently led the 14th Legion through the Great Crusade.

The people of Barbarus, meanwhile, gained the right to become members of the Fourteenth Legion Death Guard.

Based on memories from his previous life, Hades set himself a medium-term goal: survive until Mortarion was found by the Emperor, then become a Death Guard.

The additional mission, naturally, was to spend his time on Barbarus raising Mortarion's favorability or something.

Plan complete.

However... becoming a Death Guard was not necessarily a good thing. After all, they were on the rebel side... and their later fate was miserable. He did not want to become...

But that was too far in the future. Hades thought about it and decided there was no need to consider things so far ahead.

Considering that he might currently be nothing more than cannon fodder, becoming a Space Marine would already mean his ancestors' graves were smoking.

Damn it, why did he have to transmigrate somewhere so miserable?!

His short-term goal was naturally to survive. Life on Barbarus could claim a person's life at any moment. Before Mortarion led the rebels against the Xenos, people's average lifespan was thirty years.

At present, Hades lived in a relatively small village called Heller Pass. His parents had been killed by Xenos when he was three or four. Hades did not have much attachment to them and could only vaguely remember their pale faces, corroded by poisonous fog.

Hades had no brothers or sisters. Fortunately, in Barbarus's villages, food was distributed according to need. He holed up in the mud house his parents had left him, collected his small share of food each time, and struggled to survive.

There was no helping it. He was too weak right now. Hades was only seven years old and had no strength capable of rivaling Xenos.

Every day, he followed the villagers into the fields during the brief daylight to work. At night, he curled up at home and tinkered with tools and weapons on his own.

His most satisfying creation so far was a small crossbow, modified by himself. Its materials had all been treated with medicine and could resist corrosion from poison gas.

Although it was much more troublesome to draw, its power was considerable.

He had secretly gone to find the corpses of Xenos left behind in the toxic fog. Aside from those Xenos famous for their thick hides, his crossbow could shoot through their skin, sometimes even piercing straight through them.

He had once considered making a gun, but he discovered he lacked the ability to forge iron tools. The only iron weapon he owned was the dagger his father had left behind.

In addition, he had been continuously studying gas mask designs and the formulation of their chemical materials—everyone on Barbarus had a crude gas mask to ward off the poisonous gas.

To be honest, there had been progress, but not much.

After all, his range of activity was only the village and the nearby fields, and the medicinal herbs he could gather were limited.

Hades was confident that if he could obtain other medicinal ingredients, he could improve the current gas mask.

The village bell rang. Work was over. Hades carried his hoe over his shoulder and looked with satisfaction at the ground he had just raked. It was quite a sizable patch—though still young, he was excellent at farm work.

He followed the villagers as they hurried back to the village in short, quick steps. At a shout, the village gates were pulled shut.

Hades returned to his mud house by familiar routes, wiped his hands simply with a cloth, then began boiling water for porridge.

After eating, Hades picked up the draft paper for the repeating crossbow he had designed earlier and studied it—single-shot crossbows were still not very practical in real combat.

If he truly encountered battle, the enemy would not give Hades time to reload. This crossbow could only grant him an opening advantage.

Just as he was immersed in thought, waves of screams rang out.

Damn it! The Xenos had chosen to attack their village tonight?!

Hades quickly extinguished the lamp, put on his gas mask, dressed in as much corrosion-resistant clothing as possible, then grabbed his crossbow and bolts, tucked his dagger at his waist, and crouched behind the door.

There was no helping it. Aside from a large earthen kang bed, his home had no furniture that could provide anywhere to hide.

The Xenos known as Pale Laughers crawled slowly along the village paths. Their faces were pale, twisted smiles split across them, and their excessively long limbs rested eerily against the walls of the houses.

They reminded Hades of those spiders with human faces and especially long legs.

Only these were enormous versions, just a little smaller than a single-room mud house.

Yellow-green poisonous gas was restrained by their Psychic Power and wrapped around their slender bodies.

Hades's pupils suddenly contracted.

He saw it—the poisonous gas slowly seeping in through the crack beneath the door—

He had been chosen.

Hades gritted his teeth and aimed the crossbow at the door, smiling bitterly at his miserable fate.

It looked like he had to fight.

He hoped he could survive.

Today, Hades was still trying his best not to cry like a Gretchin that had had its toes stepped on.

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Post-launch warning:

Readers have said this story has angst. At present, there is one painful twist!

Warning: there is angst. Different tastes may also find certain parts unpleasant.

Chapters containing angst will have warnings. Please choose whether to read them accordingly.

Remember, there is angst!

I also tried changing the tags to add an angst tag, but it still has not been approved.

Group number: 287540541. Feel free to join.

I am a casual Warhammer fan. I have read the original works, but not all of them—there are too many, and I do not have the money to buy them.

Those who like the authentic Warhammer flavor can probably steer clear. This story merely borrows the Warhammer 40k setting. Fundamentally, it still has the feel of an online light novel. The original works are too hardcore, and my writing ability is too poor for that.

Those who simply enjoy the setting can keep reading. The protagonist currently has two cheat abilities, similar to a Blank and exceptional scientific reasoning, but since this is the early stage, he is still at rookie level.

Basically, it is a story about one person fighting Chaos.

I am an amateur writer, writing for fun. Everyone, please read it for fun too.

Corrections and lore explanations are welcome.

The first chapter is the Barbarus arc: the protagonist's interactions with Mortarion, as well as the process of establishing the resistance army.