Blades, spears, swords, staves…
In this strange, half-mystical universe, such cold weapons still carried prestige. Wielded by the strong, they retained relevance even in the age of interstellar war.
But even so—no matter how refined your high-frequency blade, you cannot expect it to duel a ship cannon firing at near-lightspeed.
For most, attempting such a feat would only mean dying miserably, without even ashes left behind.
Especially when the enemy's numbers reached astronomical proportions, or when the front lines stretched across entire star systems—then, mass destruction weapons became the true foundation of battle.
This was doubly true for the Fallen Machines, devoted as they were to pure technological warfare.
Yes, a combat-model mech capable of sprinting at a thousand times the speed of sound was useful. But a single antimatter warhead—capable of cracking a planet in an instant—was cheaper, more efficient, and far more decisive.
Thus, when faced with assaults from every direction, the Fallen Machines did not hesitate.
They unveiled weapons never before deployed.
The most infamous among them was the Spatial Revision Device.
Powered by colossal antimatter reactors, it could twist reality itself:
cutting swathes of space and hurling them into the Warp,
or collapsing entire regions into flat, two-dimensional sheets—turning its victims into dead "paper people."
Under its influence, the battlefield fractured like shredded cloth, riddled with spatial fissures.
Entire fleets vanished without resistance, erased outright.
For the weaker races, this was wholesale slaughter. They could neither resist nor flee.
For the Human Federation and civilizations of similar level, such attacks were not unsurvivable, but still maddening—wasting precious time and resources to recover.
The Aeldari, however, were different.
Born attuned to the Warp, their seers sensed distortions long before they struck. Fleets slipped aside with effortless grace, dodging dangers that would have annihilated lesser races.
Yet, after observing the Machines' repeated attempts, Commander Kody Kosler felt a stirring of unease.
His gaze lingered on the strategic star map, watching the chaotic zones of warped space begin to connect, forming a deliberate lattice.
"…They're not wasting effort. They're shaping the battlefield," he realized.
"Either to divide us, or to sweep away the weaker vermin first."
Though obsessed with his grotesque "flesh art" for millennia, Kody's strategic mind remained razor-sharp. Freed, at least partially, from Slaanesh's stupor-inducing haze, he could still see clearly.
He did not dismiss the enemy's ploy with arrogance.
Instead, he triggered the command console with one of his extra hands, inputting swift directives.
Countermeasures were transmitted fleet-wide.
The Aeldari ships would remain poised, prepared to exploit every shift, never ceding control of the battle.
---
Earth.
In his hidden laboratory, Ra watched grimly.
On the screens, he saw nearly all allied fleets—human or alien—being butchered by the Fallen Machines. Only the Aeldari, aloof in the quarantined sector, stood unscathed, calmly observing.
Ra's brow furrowed. He had no solution.
Rampaging Fallen Machines. Aloof Aeldari. Bitter, resentful alien powers circling like wolves.
Even with his strength far beyond mortals, Ra could not alter the tides of such vast events.
Long ago, when he approved the creation of cyborgs and later strong AI, he had foreseen this in his visions.
Yet there had been no other path.
Without cyborgs, humanity would have been enslaved millennia earlier, too weak to defend itself.
Without AI, the Federation would have collapsed outright before reaching its current height.
Every glimpse of the future had shown him only two options: bad, or worse.
He had chosen the path that at least allowed survival.
And now, he wrestled with what came next.
It was then a voice reached his ears—familiar, yet long-forgotten.
"Looks like things are getting messy."
Even after thousands of years, Ra recognized it instantly.
That insufferable tone, dripping with 'I am the center of the universe' arrogance…
Only one being could speak that way.
Orsaga.
No one else could imitate it.
Ra turned sharply. There, seated casually in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, was Orsaga himself.
"…What are you doing here?" Ra asked coldly, wary.
His defenses had not even stirred. That fact alone unsettled him.
For all the Federation's vast intelligence networks, neither he nor his people truly understood what "Chaos God" meant. Their grasp was still far too shallow.
He knew only this: when Orsaga entered the Warp, he ascended—becoming one of those dreaded beings.
Otherwise, Ra would not have wasted thought on why his protections had failed. Against a Chaos God, such barriers were as paper before fire.
Orsaga glanced idly at the lab's equipment, then smiled faintly.
"I need you to do something for me."
Ra's wariness deepened. Even with limited knowledge, he understood one truth: when gods asked favors, the price was never small.
"What is it?" he asked slowly. "And what do you offer in return?"
Orsaga's smile widened.
"I need you, at the right time… to die willingly."
The words had barely left his lips before Ra's fury exploded.
Vast psychic power surged, enough to shatter continental plates, lashing straight toward the intruder.
..
New fic is out. Douluo dalu: Ascension To Godhood