Resurrection Coin!!
Datch's eyes sparkled in an instant. He'd heard that Sanguinius's remains were now buried in Baal's underground cathedral. If you placed a resurrection coin upon Sanguinius's body... Wouldn't you get a lively, superficially serious and distant but in fact, thoroughly rotten, dark, and interesting archangel? Realizing this, Datch got so excited that he immediately threw a punch towards the sky.
A beautiful archangel, an archangel, an archangel loved by everyone. If only he could find another Lion together with Guilliman and the Archangel...
Wait, there's something wrong with this setting.
"For the Second Imperium, loyalty in orange."
Datch silently shouted in his heart, raising a sword with forty-five blades in salute.
There's no time to lament the failure of the First Empire—the great Second Empire is about to rise.
Logan stared at Datch with an expression of shock and unease.
Why on earth did this man gesticulate so fiercely, and sometimes show such a perverted grin?
The Emperor turned his head, face vanishing from sight, mind receding as well.
He could easily read the thoughts of the Nameless One—though not very deeply. He could discern the emotions and pick up only the strongest surface thoughts.
And right now, what this person was thinking was: how to restore the Second Empire and place Sanguinius on the throne.
Damn it, I'm not even dead yet, and someone's already thinking of a successor.
Ah, Malcador, ever since you disappeared, everyone's started bullying me...
Lieutenant Castaller and Custodian Vychellan were also completely unable to comprehend what the Nameless One was up to, utterly bewildered.
"Are you all right?" Logan asked in a startled tone.
Datch snapped out of his daydream, nodded to the NPC in front of him.
"Don't worry, Logan Grimnar, I'll take care of this mission."
"These mere green vehicles are nothing to fear."
Logan frowned slightly, feeling that something was off about the man before him, but couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. Still, as long as the guest wasn't a nuisance, he didn't care. He had more pressing plans: to throw a lavish banquet for the Emperor.
Logan's plan was sound—but in the next instant, Datch dragged the Emperor towards the transport ship.
"Come, let us purify the Orks together. For the Empire!"
Logan watched wide-eyed in disbelief.
Why take the Emperor along with you? Is that even yours? You're just picking things up at random, aren't you?
The feast isn't even started and the big ceremony hasn't been held yet!
Dragged away just like that—what are we supposed to do now?
Silent all the while, the Emperor simply allowed Datch to push him towards the gunship.
Seeing this, Custodian Vychellan and Lieutenant Castaller turned to leave as well, quickly following the pair.
The transport ship's engines roared as it took off for the outer orbital lane, swapping over to a battleship and hurtling towards the debris field of the Orks's ship.
…
"What should we do?" Ulrik asked, approaching Logan.
Suppressing a deep sense of helplessness, Logan took a deep breath.
"Assemble the wolf pack at once. Together, we'll cleanse the Orks. On this occasion, we must show the Emperor the power of the wolf pack."
…
When the departure bells rang, the majestic Imperial fleet fired its thrusters and departed from Fenrisian orbit.
Taking advantage of free time, Datch claimed his rewards for the mission to persuade the Space Wolves to accept Primaris Space Marines: 2,000 points, reputation +200, five Pan Flute.
Datch took out the Pan Flutes; they were exactly the same as those from the world of Don't Starve.
He gave them a try, and the sound was surprisingly good.
Clicking the item brought up a detailed explanation:
Pan Flutes can be used for hypnotism. The more people targeted at once, the weaker the hypnotic effect.
Both indiscriminate and targeted attacks are possible. For best results, only use hypnotism on one person at a time, even if the group is listening.
"With this, I'm now the strongest support character in the Warhammer world."
"Guilliman no longer has to worry about being beaten into intensive care by his brother."
"Whenever a Primarch gets into a fight, I'll play the Pan Flute and hypnotize the opponent."
Of course, if that still doesn't work—
Actually, Datch had suggested to Guilliman that he could just sell the Macragge's Honour and hide out in the Palace back on Terra.
If you can't win even with that, what's the point in even playing?
…
Twelve hours later, a gigantic starship—the size of a hive city—entered Datch's view.
"This is the Eternal Dusk? So huge, so incredible… the design is just unbelievable."
"Isn't it, though?"
The Eternal Dusk is an enormous nest and fortress, built from the brutally fused wrecks of thousands of ships from many races and eras.
Its hull is coated in thick layers of space dust and ice, highly resilient against impacts.
Some areas are marked with vast crude murals, proudly declaring this as an Ork stronghold.
As the Imperial fleet approached, the Orks aboard the Eternal Dusk responded instantly.
Dozens of oddly-shaped Ork warships poured out, opening fire at the Imperial fleet.
These Ork warships looked so dilapidated they might fall apart at any moment.
There was no formation; as if a pack of sharks drawn by the scent of blood, they recklessly charged at their prey.
Their orbits twisted unpredictably, colliding without warning, sending showers of sparks and debris everywhere.
But the Orks cared nothing for such blunders, yelling all the louder as if it were entertainment.
The fleets clashed violently. High-density energy beams and physical munitions crossed paths in a deadly ballet.
Warships exploded in succession, brilliant fireballs illuminating the dim void.
The Empire soon gained the upper hand with discipline and firepower.
From the prows and sterns of its cruisers, searing lances of white destruction tore through the ranks, precisely piercing the largest Ork warships charging the vanguard.
Every time an Ork ship was hit, it was engulfed in a silent yet furious explosion.
The macro-cannon barrages became rivers of ruin, mowing down massed Orks in droves.
High-density explosions erupted like fireworks.
But in this war, the battlefield itself was not the deciding factor.
Victory would depend not on whether they could destroy the Eternal Dusk—but whether they could slay the Ork warlord hiding behind the scenes.
Otherwise, even wiping out the Ork fleet would be mere stopgap; the threat would one day return, even more dangerous, and threaten Terra itself.
Under Logan's command, the Imperial fleet blasted a path through the Orks' chaotic defense—opening a route for boarding.
When Datch and the Emperor's battleship entered the teleportation range of Orks, the Emperor turned and headed to the teleportation deck.
Vychellan immediately understood his intention and gathered the elite. They leapt after the Emperor.
Logan and his Space Wolves joined in—the highest honor for a Wolf is to fight at the Father's side.
Datch tagged along with the group as well.
He could have used Sadako's videotape to access Orks, but with him around, how could they lose?
What kind of cosmic joke is this, anyway?
When teamed up with the Emperor, there's only one thing to consider: how to win.
Datch chose to breeze through the game, win with the Emperor's backing!
Ridiculous! Even sitting on the Golden Throne, surely one should get a bit of exercise now and then.
The teleportation device's roar reached its peak, and a sudden flash lit the room.
Datch felt the space around him warp, his vision becoming blurry as if he were falling into a subspace abyss. Strange whispers brushed at his ears.
But this only lasted an instant—then everything returned to normal.
Datch blinked as his boots struck the ground, his vision clearing.
He stood in a broad metallic corridor, reeking of blood, engine oil, and animal flesh.
Beneath his feet, the deck was caked with grime and roughly welded steel plates.
Exposed pipes lined the walls, spitting suspicious steam and sparks, like writhing intestines.
Standing at his side: the Emperor, Custodian Vychellan, a hand-picked group of Space Wolves, and some Primaris Space Marines.
The Orks stationed there were caught completely off-guard by Datch's sudden appearance.
The Emperor wasted no time. With the flick of a wrist, his longsword blazed with golden flame, lighting the dark hallway.
The sword swept up and down, fire surging out to fill the air.
The Orks screamed sharply, enveloped by deadly fire—disintegrating to ash in an instant.
"Protect His Majesty!" Vychellan shouted, urging the Space Wolves and Primaris Space Marines forward to fight the Orks and relieve the Emperor's burden.
"Fire!" Great Wolf Logan roared.
Instantly, a rain of explosives covered the corridor; the tide of greenskins became a bloody massacre.
"For Russ, and for the Emperor!"
Krom bellowed the Emperor's name and charged at the nearest Ork, his axe cleaving a huge one in an instant.
The other Space Wolves were not to be outdone, careening into the foe with wild swings.
Datch's style, however, was very different.
He whistled and casually tossed out a Poke Ball containing a corn snake.
"Rooooar!!!"
With an infinite rage, the titanic form of Skarbrand, wreathed in blood-red flame, appeared, mighty axes swinging through the Orks.
With every sweep, dozens of Orks and thick bulkheads were shredded—flesh and steel raining down in a grotesque torrent.
The stench of blood rapidly became unbearable.
Then, Datch tossed another Pokeball.
The Changeling materialized like a ghost, cackling as it hurled ever-changing magical fireballs, blowing apart swathes of Orks.
The Emperor, with just a sweep of his sword, erased any that stood before him. The two daemons, aware of their place, kept themselves quiet and avoided catching the Emperor's eye.
Logan, Ulrik, Nigel, and the other Wolves stood in shock; looking from Datch to the two demons, expressions of disbelief.
Since when had Warp Daemons become so obedient as to help the Emperor fight Orks?
Why did the universe suddenly feel so insane?
The boarding party advanced at a stunning pace, carving a path through the wreckage, venturing deeper.
They crossed jungles of rusted pipes, skirted pits of toxic sludge, cut down hordes of frenzied Orks wherever they went.
Corpses littered the deck, blood streaming in rivers.
Finally, Datch and the group smashed through a crude titanic gateway sealed with scrap iron and Ork tech, stepping into a truly vast open space.
This was the heart of the greenskins, the core of their WAAAGH energy.
The hall was the size of a small city square; the dome soared high overhead, drowned in swirling energetic vapor.
At its center, a throbbing, ever-expanding and contracting WAAAGH energy core boiled.
It never stilled—its surface seethed like boiling asphalt.
Thick bolts of green lightning repeatedly lashed out, blackening the surrounding structures.
Every pulse of this core made the structure of the entire wreck moan, and far-off Orks echoed with mindless battle cries.
If this WAAAGH energy core were destroyed, the Orks garrisoned here would collapse and become sheep for the slaughter.
But here too stood the strongest Ork guardian.
"GRRRRAAAHH!!!"
A roar even deeper and more brutal than Skarbrand's shook the ground; dust fell in thick clumps as massive footsteps thundered.
Flames of paranormal power burned in his eyes; a giant, burly Ork warlord appeared, facing Datch's party.
The Ork warlord's left hand was a massive Power Klaw, spitting green arcs of electricity. His right gripped a heavy war axe, which hissed menacingly when swung. From his body radiated a powerful WAAAGH psychic field, bending light and space.
This was no mere brute—a rare psychic tyrant among Orks.
Bloodthirsty Skarbrand locked on first, bellowing as he leapt with his axe raised.
But the Ork warlord only raised his Power Klaw and squeezed at the daemon—
"GWAAAARGGGH!!"
A surging wave of green supernatural energy exploded outwards like a visible tsunami.
Taken by surprise, Skarbrand was flung through the air, smashing into distant machinery in a chain of collapses and explosions.
The Changeling's magic failed as well, unable to harm the Ork warlord protected by the WAAAGH field.
Clearly, the task of defeating this Ork fell to the Emperor.
No more words were needed. The battle erupted in an eye-blink, too fast for the naked eye to catch.
The Ork warlord bellowed, surging forward with Power Klaw and axe.
The Emperor released his strength to match.
The clash of their weapons unleashed reverberations beyond imagining, annihilating everything caught in their path.
Golden psychic fire and green WAAAGH clashed and dissolved repeatedly, filling the central hall with bursts of light.
The Ork warlord's power was terrifying, his psychic ability beyond anything Logan or the other Wolves could have dreamed.
But he could not defeat the Emperor.
The Emperor seized a brief opening presented by the warlord's smallest mistake—a flash of swordplay, and the thick neck of the Ork was lopped off in a single blow.
For a split second, time seemed to stop.
The Ork's charge froze, his little eyes of supernatural fire filled with disbelief.
Then, his head slowly slid from his neck, thudding heavily to the ground.
The headless titan's body stood for a moment, then crashed down in a cloud of dust.
With the warlord's death, an invisible shockwave pulsed through all of Orks.
Outside, Orks still attacked mercilessly, but suddenly, all movement ceased.
The fervor faded from their eyes, replaced by bewilderment and confusion.
The WAAAGH unity began to collapse like an avalanche.
Many Orkish tech devices, barely held together by the field, immediately fell silent or exploded.
The Ork fleet's advance collapsed instantly, devolved into individual firefights, with mobs firing at each other, quickly becoming easy prey for the Imperial fleet's slaughter.
The Emperor gazed at the pulsing WAAAGH core in the hall's center, which was now growing unstable, threatening to explode at any moment.
He reached out, seizing the air—green light roiled as the core warped the space around it.
A portal opened, revealing the dread abyss of the Warp.
With immense force, the Emperor pushed the WAAAGH energy through the tear, averting an uncontrollable explosion.
With the wayward WAAAGH now contained, the Emperor slammed his sword into the ground.
Golden flame erupted outward, soon flooding the whole Orks, purging devils in the shadows, rotting meat in hidden rooms, and all—everything was consumed into ash.
The derelict ship was purged, demons banished.
Once all was done, the time for the Rat Talisman ended.
Under the eyes of Vychellan, Great Wolf Logan, and other Imperial heroes,
The Emperor's glowing form faded swiftly, and he resumed his statue-like state.
"Your Majesty!"
They ran to the statue, shouting over and over, trying to revive it—but it remained a statue, still and unresponsive.
Logan carried on slaughtering fleeing Orks, and went searching for the mysterious Nameless One.
Perhaps only he could provide answers to what had just happened.
But as Datch received his mission hint and the reward for clearing the cosmic wreckage,
Drew out Rick's portal gun, and opened a green portal on the floor.
Seeing this, Logan yelled in alarm.
"Wait—!"
But Datch ignored him and stepped straight into the portal.
A moment later, he was back in the strategy chamber of the Macragge's Honour.
By the time Logan and the Space Wolves rushed in, everything had reset—only a cold floor remained.
At that moment, Guilliman was speaking to several Astartes.
Datch's sudden appearance shocked the Astartes.
He glanced around, spotting a green exclamation mark above their helmets.
That meant—side quests!
He approached and opened the info panel for the squad leader.
[Kor'sarro Khan, Captain of the White Scars' 3rd Company and Huntmaster of the 51st Hunt, accompanied by a giant eagle. Why not invite him to a thrilling race?]
If you manage to defeat all the White Scars in a high-speed race, you'll receive the title: Human Speed King.
Defeat Jaghatai Khan to earn the title: Fastest Human Racer.
[Win every race in the galaxy, and the reward is: Fastest Racer in the Galaxy.]
"Hey! There's a title side quest. Fantastic."
Datch's tone brimmed with excitement. Finally, his lightweight bike had found purpose.
It was time to show off his prowess—
I will become the fastest racing king in the galaxy!
…