The Imperium Teems with Talented Individuals

Dust and cobwebs swirled. Karras raised his foot, a light layer of grey ash settling upon his armored boot.

The long-dormant engines began to spin once more, their hum like that of an ancient leviathan. Layers of white mist rolled across the giant vessel.

Beneath the behemoth's feet, dead trees accumulated over the years were snapped like twigs. Upon the decks, warriors clad in armor either bloated like rot or emaciated as bone hurried back and forth, taking the place of long-dead crewmen to fire up this warship.

"Wooo—"

The Indomitable, grounded in the sludge of the garden, began to slowly move.

Karras let out a long breath. Within the astrovarium, the star-calculating dais designed and forged by the Pale Lord himself shifted into motion. The course was correct; the time was correct.

A lingering sob echoed in his ears, though Karras had no desire to sort out whether it belonged to Nurgle or to Isha.

Aside from the Pale Lord, they were all far too cowardly.

Karras thought this, feeling only a sense of profound relief. The delicate balance of a millennium had finally been shattered by the two alien deities, and Nurgle could no longer imprison His self-proclaimed beloved son.

"Fire!!!"

Karras roared. The Death Guard's final reserve of black missiles was launched—a parting gift to this ruined garden. Smoke and dust rose not far from the giant vessel, and the edges of the garden grew dimmer.

The white mist washed over the hull as The Indomitable slowly sailed away from that place.

It was over...

Karras took another deep breath. From start to finish, across nearly four hundred and ninety thousand troops, billions of auxilia, and embedded magos, the meager survivors numbering barely a single ship's complement were now just seventy thousand... and the majority of them