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AS A GOD IN WARHAMMER 40,000

THETRUEMAGICMAN
7
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The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
"Praise the Emperor!" Cassian—a shut-in who is very good at video games, and someone without a social life other than enraging other losers in the Internet—dies and finds himself stranded in the grimdark universe of WH40K. A Universe filled with Factions all fighting for power: The Imperium of Man, the Chaos God, the Necrons, the Tyranids, the Aeldari, the Orks, and other more groups of interest. All equally dangerous, all equally terrifying, and all equally powerful to the point that death is never really a respite even to someone like Cassian, no matter what group he stands with. Horrified about the thought of dying, again. Cassian's worries was solved by a machine that only he could see, his cheat code, a golden finger that he recognizes from novels and manhwas that he read from time to time when bored—the System. And with it he was able to occupy one body after another, with each death bringing in a new body for him to occupy. Until finally, he was able to satisfy the System and unlocked the basic functions of it. In which he found out step-by-step the nature of his System, and the possibilities and abilities it possess. To the point that he became a new type of God in the neverending game of WH40K. [ CONGRATULATIONS PLAYER FOR UNLOCKING THE GOD OF DEATH SYSTEM! ]
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Chapter 1 - [ PROLOGUE ]

[ PROLOGUE: "CASSIAN GREY" ]

In the battlefield of Tempest IV, a renowned Hive World with the estimated population of hundreds of billions, on the outskirts of it and all-around the planet. Blood could be seen painting the ground.

Which and who's blood? The Loyalists, the Heretics, and even the malnourished citizens stuck in-between the struggle as thousands upon thousands of small skirmishes could be seen happening all-around.

Loyalists. Malnourished men and women in tatters, wearing scrambled green-painted armors that only cover some parts, could be seen either rushing enemies, holding their ground, or even retreating—

In the case of the last ones though; the unfortunate and cowardly, the people who cannot fathom war and decide to run, they get rewarded with a shot in the back of their heads by people in coats.

An outsider would see this and think that the stern faced, yelling men, who blatantly shoot others without care in the world would be the enemy. Yes? The Heretics, or so what the people kept screaming.

But no. To any fan who knows a little bit about Warhammer 40,000 through the Internet, Fan Fictions, and even through the source materials itself—from the Black Library; those black-colored greatcoat-wearing men are not the enemy.

But are instead the Commissars, dressed in intricate, fashionable clothing plus a hat. Like certain evil officers in the times of WW2. And yes, they are one of the good guys, or so what most people think.

They are the motivation for soldiers to not retreat and get branded as a coward, thus shot. But instead hold ground and rush forward, dying instead through a random hail of bullets or by mad-Chaos Cultists.

And in the cesspool of war and pain, also known by people as Warhammer 40,000—or WH40K for short—those are considered tame deaths, and non-painful in comparison to the thousands of other ways.

Well, any casual fan of WH40K could at least think of hundreds of much more painful deaths than that. For example: infection by Nurgle's Plague, tortured to death by hungry Dark Eldars, krumped by Orks, or even disintegrated by a stray Necrons' shot.

And surprisingly, those are only the tip of the iceberg per say, as there are even more outrageous ways to die. No matter what walks of life one may be in: Xenos, Heretic, or Loyalist—plus the numerous subdivided factions inside all of those groups.

In the Universe where planets have billions and even trillions of lives in it in some cases, lives are the most common currency there is. In the case of the Imperium of Man that is, the Human Faction.

And no, unlike what humanitarians believe, human lives are not equal—at least in this cesspool of pain and suffering. For example: a Noble to a Hive Citizen, an Astropath to an Ogryn, an Custodes to an Astartes.

"I do-don't want to die!" And even now, in the case of a brave soldier to a cowardly one. On the left side, huddled and shivering in fear is a Planetary Defense Force (PDF) Soldier, young and green.

Scrawny and afraid, hiding in one of the many trenches scattered about in the hellhole they called the battlefield. Afraid to even touch a gun, a shovel, or anything to defend himself; a low-value human.

[ BANG! ] In direct comparison, the soldier wearing the same exact attire as him, thin and with green-eyes—the one besides him. Is a high-value human, someone who actively fights and kills.

Or so what the higher ups, Generals, and the Commissars believe. Other people believe otherwise, but in a war; the opinion of others other than the combat oriented people are meaningless.

The green-eyed soldier, steadying his breathing, directing his focus, and targeting the enemy; which are Cultists charging at the frontlines while wearing tattered clothes and armors with huge gaps—overall, the same situation with most of the PDF soldiers.

And perhaps due to a combination of luck and skill, the said soldier prayed silently in his head and pulled the trigger of the funny-looking, long barreled, mismatched gun that he was holding; [ BANG! ]

[ +1 CULTIST KILLED ]

And surprisingly or unsurprisingly, it hit. A blood-red Cultist in the head, who was about to slash a downed teammate with a giant knife, killing it and saving another in the process. "I'm actually good at this."

The young soldier, who seems to be decentised on what he did—the act of taking another person's life—was happy even. His stoic expression immediately turned into a massive shit-eating grin as he searched for another unlucky living target, another Cultist.

Don't be fooled by the way he acts, or by the way he speaks. Cassian wasn't born a killer, or someone who was trained since birth to kill; the only thing unique about him is that he loves arcades and online games.

Which should be unique here, as those don't exist, or have been extinct. Because he doesn't belong in that time period or Universe—as he is from the year 2023, also known as the 3K era here.

And from what he knows, his original Earth doesn't have an overlapping reality with straight up Hell, or anyone bearing the title Emperor of Mankind. That is, unless you talk about the tabletop game, which expanded to books and video games.

Then yes, the Emperor of Mankind exists, albeit only as a fictional character created by a real person. Which would be a writer, or a collective of writers inside the Games Workshop. Pick your pick.

And Cassian, as a gamer and avid reader to some of the books about the WH40K Universe, knows quite a bit. Though not everything, and sadly has the tendency to mix-up and outright forget some information—key, life-saving information.

Though unlucky in the memory remembering department, he at least unlocked a System when he was suddenly pulled out of his original universe via death. And yes, that'll make him a Transmigrator.

Someone who takes over the body of someone else after death, like possession. And luckily, he could do this indefinitely thanks to the System; though like a game of roulette, he doesn't know what kind of body.

He could be transmigrated as a lowly, starving Underhive Citizen citizen today, an Agri-World Citizen the next, and as a PDF Soldier fighting an ongoing battle against cultists the next. Total randomness.

Though with the numerous amount of body possession he had experienced, Cassian could at least confirm that there are indeed limitations and prerequisites that his ability has.

First, he must die to change bodies—unsurprising, unless he wants to stay in that path, he must live. Secondly, he could only possess humans and not xenos species, or even daemons.

Oh, wait. The closest he has with daemons is that one time when he had the unfortunate luck of possessing a Cultist, which he forgot the name of, but he seemed to have been a Slaanesh Cultist.

But unfortunately, while running away from the other sick creeps, he had the luck of encountering a Brother Astartes that immediately shredded him before he could even explain, or plead his case.

Touché. The hatred of Astartes really does run deep, especially to traitors, which the Astartes thought included Cassian. Sadly, he didn't see the emblem or color of the Astartes, as he immediately got murdered.

And lastly, to fully unlock the System of his and make use of it, he must complete the mission given to him once he spawned; and unless he kills himself or dies, that mission wouldn't change.

For example: farming in an Agri-World, surviving in a Hive World, purging mutated monsters in the lowest deck of some ship, and now, as a PDF Soldier fighting against Cultists—Khorne Cultists to be precise.

Which was a great thing, as the Blood God's servants are pretty straight forward. Rush, hack, and kill. Unlike the trickster Tzeench, perverted Slaanesh, or even the dirty, plague monster Nurgle.

Plague God Nurgle to be precise, as he doesn't want to experience the excruciating pain of being a zombie while still being conscious; Throne knows what'll happen to him, maybe even the System wouldn't be able to help if that were to happen.

"Emperor, guide my hand." Silencing his thoughts, his surroundings, and zeroing his attention to the closest cultist he could find; and before he could even realize it, his finger squeezed the trigger.

[ BANG! ]

Another dead, straight to the heart. And due to the unique buff that the Blood God gave, which is reckless courage and unfeeling body, the devoted Cultists don't feel pain, needing to be shot in their vital organs to die—heart and brain for example.

[ +1 CULTIST KILLED ]

[ +1 CULTIST KILLED ]

[ +1 CULTIST KILLED ]

Shot after shot, like a zealot—or a very skilled gamer who doesn't have a social life—Cassian kept firing, muttering small prayers under his breath directed to the God-Emperor; who very much exists.

Someone that even the Four Chaos Gods fear. And just so happens to be the patron God of Humanity—turned into one after suffering fatal damages in the Horus Heresy, confined in the Golden Throne of Terra, and mainly due to the subsequent faith of the masses.

Someone who slumbers and exists as a spiritual being, like the Chaos Gods. And like the Chaos Gods, able to bless devoted believers and guide their hand. To what extent? Cassian doesn't know.

And to be honest, he isn't completely sure that the Emperor is indeed guiding his hand, or watching him. But the more and more he believes, the steadier his shooting, the steadier his breathing, and the more deadly the bullets are to the cultists.

That, or Cassian is thinking too much about it. And the real reason why his bullets are so effective, is because of his experience in videogames, and because he doesn't fear death; really, he doesn't.

It'll just be a reset, and he could go on and on again, until he completes a single mission. And subsequently treat the WH40K Universe, everything in it, and even his own life as a game.

A twisted game of sorts, in which when he dies he'll merely start another map. And other than the sickening toxic air that he inhales, and the fact that he could still feel pain, then it would have been no different to a 3D virtual reality game.

"Death to the Heretics..." Opening his eyes, Cassian pulled the trigger, ready to kill another cultist, but to his dismay... he seems to realize that he had no bullet—the Slugthrower that he stole along the way from a dead PDF soldier.

From what he knows through the lore, PDF Soldiers are armbed by their respective Planetary Governors. And with the depressing look of Tempest IV, it ought to not have that many resources—or it does, but the local nobles and capitalists hoard it for themselves.

And due to that, personnel are forced to either be armed with low grade, scrap-made guns called Slugthrowers that rarely have a uniform look, or Autoguns to the high enough ranked soldiers.

Unlike the well equipped Astra Militarum soldiers, the Planetary Defense Force soldiers which are composed of local people, wearing civilian clothes with plates of armor over it, they are unequipped for warfare, and are mostly fodder to hold lines.

In realizing that he doesn't have any ammo, and that his position is soon-to-be compromised with the neverending hoard of cultists, Cassian couldn't just leave and go; the nearest Commissar would shoot him in the head if he sees any trace of cowardice.

"You, stay right there alright, don't move. And oh, stop screaming for godsake. I can't hear myself think properly, or even think at all!"

Pointing at the crying teammate of his, he warned, which the other probably didn't hear or understand due to the constant screaming, bombardment, and shooting happening all-around them.

But either way, don't say he didn't warn him. And in seeing that there's no weapons in sight, he ran to the other side of the trench, careful as to not peek his head and get accidentally shot, as he tries to salvage the nearest body and find a weapon.

In dodging gunfire and musing to himself, Cassian thought about his mission for the day, which activated his System, as he used the only usable function of the System; showing him his mission.

[ MISSION: KILL 25 KORNE CULTIST IN THE BATTLE FOR TEMPEST IV ]

[ OBJECTIVE: 14/25 CULTIST KILLED ]

[ ---------- ] [ ---------- ] [ ---------- ] [ ---------- ]

[ FUN FACT: "Warhammer 40,000 (WH40K) is a dark, sprawling science-fantasy universe created by Games Workshop. Set in the 41st and 42nd millennia, it spans tabletop miniature wargaming, hundreds of novels, and hit video games like Space Marine 2." ]

[ 11/14/2026 ]

[ 11/15/2026 ]