Bonus
~~~
Time seemed to stop.
The headless Helbrute, a corrupted war machine, collapsed into the scorched earth. Blood still spurted from its neck stump. I Am Not God knelt in the pooling gore, his left arm severed, his body on the verge of collapse. His right hand gripped his chainsword, using it like a crutch to stay upright.
His cry of "In death... atonement" still echoed through the ruins. The silent Krieg soldiers watched. Gunsmoke drifted. Fires burned in the distance. For a moment, everything held perfectly still, beautiful and terrible at once.
Then something changed.
Hummmm!!!
A resonance erupted deep in his mind. Not a sound exactly, but a vibration that shook his very soul. It felt like the passing of some vast, supreme will.
His vision shifted. The game interface, health bars, ammunition counters, map, communication channels, all dissolved like ice in sunlight. They vanished completely.
What replaced them was impossible to ignore.
Gold.
Pure golden light flooded his vision, brilliant and overwhelming. It wasn't chaotic. The light condensed rapidly, forming a massive framework that filled his entire field of view. The design was geometric and sacred, decorated in Imperial Gothic style. Every line seemed forged from pure radiance.
The framework itself radiated warmth and undeniable majesty.
At the center, text appeared. The words were written in the same blazing gold, appearing one line at a time like divine proclamations:
[Your will shines among the stars.]
[Your loyalty is your answer.]
[Mortal flesh... your deeds are beheld by the Golden Throne.]
The Golden Throne. Those words hit him like lightning. In the game's lore, the Throne was the mysterious heart of humanity's empire, a symbol of eternal suffering and sacrifice. And now it had noticed him? An insignificant player?
More text appeared, grander and more glorious:
[The great Master of Mankind, embodiment of glory and sanctity, dazzling and radiant as the golden sun, has cast upon you... an approving gaze.]
At the center of the interface, a complex emblem took shape. It resembled both a holy symbol and a burning gear. Beneath it, a new quest title formed with thunderous weight:
[Legendary Quest Activated: Thirteenfold Holy Destructions]
[Quest Objective: In the remainder of this campaign, with your mortal body (current state), successfully eliminate a total of 13 'Chaos Elite Units'.]
[Current Progress: 1/13 (Helbrute counted)]
[Quest Declaration: Your determination to defend humanity has been witnessed by the Emperor. Now prove through your actions that you are worthy of the Master of Mankind's blessing. Through glorious battle, through sacred will, pave the path to the Golden Throne and fulfill the name of 'Guardian of Humanity'. There is no turning back, only victory or death.]
Thirteenfold Holy Destructions.
Thirteen Chaos elites. With his current body, missing an arm and nearly spent. It sounded impossible. It sounded like a death sentence wrapped in glory.
Before he could process this, warmth flooded through him. Power poured from somewhere beyond, flowing into his broken body like an invisible river.
[Temporary Blessing Descended: Living Saint]
[Blessing Effects:
1. Sacred Bane: Your attacks against all Chaos-aligned units ignore their armor, energy shields, and damage reduction. You strike at their very essence.
2. Lesser Purification: Lesser daemon units you eliminate are banished from the Warp. They cannot be resummoned or reappear for the rest of this campaign.
3. Faith's Inspiration: All Imperial allies within range of you gain significant morale boosts. They fight with greater resolve, resist fear and psychic attacks more effectively, and perform better in combat. You are the banner. You are the beacon.]
Power surged through his shattered body. The soul-burning agony of his severed arm faded, not healed, but suppressed by a warm current of faith-fueled energy.
His exhaustion receded. The urge to collapse vanished. In its place came a strange clarity, a sense of spiritual and physical fullness. The chainsword in his hand felt lighter yet somehow heavier. He carried more now. Responsibility.
He looked down at himself. There were no dramatic changes, no glowing wings, no halo of light. But he could feel that he'd become something different. In this Chaos-tainted wasteland, he was now a source of purification. A small but unshakable anchor of order.
The golden interface contracted, condensing into a quest tracker and a faintly glowing [Living Saint] status icon. Both settled into a corner of his vision.
At the bottom of the interface, the quest rewards appeared. Brief, but heavy with meaning:
[Quest Rewards:
· The Emperor's Earthly Regent (Unique Permanent Title)
· Extension of the Golden Throne's Will (Identity Unlock)
· Chosen of the Warp's Eternally Burning Sun (Special Growth Path Activated)
· And... certain blessings from the Master of Mankind (Unknown)]
The Emperor's Regent. The Golden Throne's will. The Warp's burning sun.
These weren't titles from some dark god trading power for corruption. This was different. He'd been chosen by humanity's collective will to become an executor of its highest ideals.
I Am Not God, Daniel, a student from the Utopian world who'd once just been drawn to an interesting game, now stood in a sea of blood and ash. One arm severed, gripping a chainsword. And he'd been given a mission that would drive any believer in this universe to madness or trembling devotion.
Slowly, using the chainsword for support, he stood fully upright.
He raised his head. His gaze cut through the gunsmoke toward the deeper reaches of Heralius Hive City. Chaos's corruption remained thick there. More enemies gathered. More Chaos elites prepared to counterattack.
His eyes had changed. Gone were the confusion and shock. Gone was the desperate fury of a cornered animal fighting back. Instead, there was calm. Restrained firmness. Steel that had been tested and tempered.
Thirteenfold Holy Destructions.
With mortal flesh, perform sacred deeds.
He raised his remaining right arm. The blood-stained chainsword roared to life again, its blade no longer pointed at the sky but toward those dark ruins where more Chaos enemies bred.
"For the Emperor," he said softly.
This time it wasn't just a slogan. It was a declaration carrying true weight. A promise from the heart.
Then he stepped forward. Not charging. Not running. Just walking steadily and resolutely toward the battlefield's depths.
Behind him, the surviving Krieg soldiers adjusted their formation silently and followed. They too seemed to sense the change. Their steps became more powerful. Their silence now carried a faint fervor that hadn't been there before.