ItsFulgrim
❤︎⊹𝓢𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓽⊹❤︎
The universe is not limited to the bounds of one realm. The Warp, the Natural world, and the endless galaxies that swim upon oceans of stars offer countless paths. Every beat of a butterfly's wings can incite monumental change. Change that can rot. Change that can burn. And change that can be for naught.
Yet, amidst this chaos, certain constants remain—immutable anchors in the vastness of reality.
Humanity, ever its own worst enemy, is destined to fall by its own hand. The machines, harbingers of the age of Men of Iron, will prevail in an age of dominance before they, too, crumble. Humanity will be reduced to scattered remnants, renegades living an existence far removed from each other. Yet, from this ruin, the seeds of unification must be sown. After the Age of Strife, in the late 29th Millennium, this unification becomes imperative.
This era will be a period of unparalleled chaos in human history, marked by widespread conflict and disunity on Earth. In this maelstrom, a singular figure will rise—a being of eternal power and holiness, The Emperor of Mankind. The Emperor, the only true and rightful leader of humanity, will emerge, initiating the unification of Terra and establishing the Imperium of Man. Despite his denials, humanity will venerate the Emperor as a god. Bestowing parts of his dominion to his sons, they will reign with unmatched power and might.
These events are inevitable. Yet, one more key event must occur—the rise of the arch-traitor, the embodiment of darkness from the Warp, leading to the eventual defeat...
...Of the Emperor of Mankind.
This reality is just one of many, precariously balanced on the edge of collapse. One wrong move, and everything may fall into chaos. One wrong move, and Chaos will reign supreme.
-
The proud sound of The Phoenician's boots echoed across the long halls of the Imperial Palace. A scowl marred his perfect features. Another fight had broken out with one of his brothers. For the Primarch of the Emperor's Children, such skirmishes were almost routine, a habit even. Despite their status, their conflicts often resembled those of mere infants—a notion Fulgrim himself found perplexing.
A delicate matter had been discussed recently among the Primarchs: the possibility of forming closer relationships with Xenos, specifically the Aeldari and T'au. Unspeakable to some, how could they ever consider these aliens as allies?
Most of the brothers vehemently disagreed, some even declaring they would rather die than fight alongside such alien scourge. Humanity, already fractured among its own sub-species, could hardly fathom treating an entirely different kin as their own.
Fulgrim, however, saw potential in these alliances, advocating for bonds in the name of a brighter future. This, of course, masked his ulterior motive—to keep his many, many wives.
The gene-father of the Third Legion harbored tendencies that some might find concerning. Outwardly, he epitomized the Emperor's vision of perfection: beautiful, wise, powerful. Some wept at the mere sight of Fulgrim, his beauty transcending the human realm. To them, he seemed the reflection of a god. No, not that. Anyone who dared utter such blasphemy would face dire consequences.
Gods were not allowed in the Imperium of Mankind, their worship abolished by the Emperor long ago. Despite this, Fulgrim's pride remained unchecked, spiraling further when he discovered that wretched sword...
The Blade of Laer. That vile daemon weapon began to take hold of him. Once again, another Fulgrim, like so many before him, seemed destined to fall to the powers of the Lord of Excess—or so it appeared.
Yet, if one single person were to interfere, things could change. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Empire of Humanity had a chance of fighting back.
And so, he continued his stroll, already moving planning what may come in the future. Yet someone watched him close, observing his every move with care, not one of the chaos gods, but rather, something slightly more ancient than such, but that, was a concern for another time.
Yet, amidst this chaos, certain constants remain—immutable anchors in the vastness of reality.
Humanity, ever its own worst enemy, is destined to fall by its own hand. The machines, harbingers of the age of Men of Iron, will prevail in an age of dominance before they, too, crumble. Humanity will be reduced to scattered remnants, renegades living an existence far removed from each other. Yet, from this ruin, the seeds of unification must be sown. After the Age of Strife, in the late 29th Millennium, this unification becomes imperative.
This era will be a period of unparalleled chaos in human history, marked by widespread conflict and disunity on Earth. In this maelstrom, a singular figure will rise—a being of eternal power and holiness, The Emperor of Mankind. The Emperor, the only true and rightful leader of humanity, will emerge, initiating the unification of Terra and establishing the Imperium of Man. Despite his denials, humanity will venerate the Emperor as a god. Bestowing parts of his dominion to his sons, they will reign with unmatched power and might.
These events are inevitable. Yet, one more key event must occur—the rise of the arch-traitor, the embodiment of darkness from the Warp, leading to the eventual defeat...
...Of the Emperor of Mankind.
This reality is just one of many, precariously balanced on the edge of collapse. One wrong move, and everything may fall into chaos. One wrong move, and Chaos will reign supreme.
-
The proud sound of The Phoenician's boots echoed across the long halls of the Imperial Palace. A scowl marred his perfect features. Another fight had broken out with one of his brothers. For the Primarch of the Emperor's Children, such skirmishes were almost routine, a habit even. Despite their status, their conflicts often resembled those of mere infants—a notion Fulgrim himself found perplexing.
A delicate matter had been discussed recently among the Primarchs: the possibility of forming closer relationships with Xenos, specifically the Aeldari and T'au. Unspeakable to some, how could they ever consider these aliens as allies?
Most of the brothers vehemently disagreed, some even declaring they would rather die than fight alongside such alien scourge. Humanity, already fractured among its own sub-species, could hardly fathom treating an entirely different kin as their own.
Fulgrim, however, saw potential in these alliances, advocating for bonds in the name of a brighter future. This, of course, masked his ulterior motive—to keep his many, many wives.
The gene-father of the Third Legion harbored tendencies that some might find concerning. Outwardly, he epitomized the Emperor's vision of perfection: beautiful, wise, powerful. Some wept at the mere sight of Fulgrim, his beauty transcending the human realm. To them, he seemed the reflection of a god. No, not that. Anyone who dared utter such blasphemy would face dire consequences.
Gods were not allowed in the Imperium of Mankind, their worship abolished by the Emperor long ago. Despite this, Fulgrim's pride remained unchecked, spiraling further when he discovered that wretched sword...
The Blade of Laer. That vile daemon weapon began to take hold of him. Once again, another Fulgrim, like so many before him, seemed destined to fall to the powers of the Lord of Excess—or so it appeared.
Yet, if one single person were to interfere, things could change. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Empire of Humanity had a chance of fighting back.
And so, he continued his stroll, already moving planning what may come in the future. Yet someone watched him close, observing his every move with care, not one of the chaos gods, but rather, something slightly more ancient than such, but that, was a concern for another time.