"How long are they going to keep fighting? Just give up already!"
Kaiser Weinstein muttered at his monitor, eyes half-lidded as another enemy fleet got wiped out.
The room around him was dark and cramped, lit almost entirely by the screen in front of him.
The curtains were closed, the air felt stale, and there were empty cans and snack wrappers everywhere. It was the kind of place you ended up with when you stopped caring about things like sleep schedules.
The game he was playing was Interstellar Nations. If someone had to describe it quickly, they'd probably just say, "It's just Stellaris."
You picked a civilization—or created it—chose its ethics, managed planets, raised an army, built fleets, and tried not to get wiped out by something ancient and angry hiding at the edge of the galaxy. Most people quit halfway through a campaign.
But Kaiser didn't.
Right now, the galaxy map was almost completely filled with his nation's color. The Germania Reich had swallowed nearly everything. Only a few minor factions were still resisting, and even they were clearly running on borrowed time.
He leaned back and stretched, joints cracking. At the beginning, he'd made the Germania Reich as a joke—just to make fun of the weird-shaped mustache lad.
In the game's lore, humanity was initially ruled by the United Nations of Earth as one giant fragmented federation that was slow, idealistic, and obsessed with compromise. So Kaiser had split off a rebel consisted of a German faction that believed humanity needed a single direction. Less arguing, more action.
From there, things escalated.
The Germania Reich became a feudal-authoritarian empire. Noble houses ruled sectors, governors answered to lords, and everyone answered to the Führer; Kaiser, Himself. It sounded inefficient on paper, but in practice it worked way too well. Stability stayed high, production kept climbing, and the fleet power numbers were honestly ridiculous.
Kaiser lost track of how many nights he'd stayed up. One more decision turned into another more war, which turned into another long bloody conquest. Eventually, he stumbled onto something big.
The Path of Ascension.
This mechanism unlocked a late-game path that most players never reached. It let a civilization draw energy directly from living beings. With enough energy, the picked species could become immortal and ascend into a higher being. Permanently.
Kaiser stared at the confirmation screen longer than he expected.
Then he clicked yes.
The ascension process started. The progress bar filled slowly, accompanied by ominous messages about consequences and irreversible choices.
Kaiser ignored them.
When the bar was just about to hit one hundred percent, he let out a tired laugh and leaned back in his chair.
That was when his vision blurred.
His chest tightened, like someone had suddenly turned gravity up inside him. Kaiser tried to stand, but he failed, and tipped sideways with his chair.
The last thing he saw was the screen flashing before everything went black.
---
When Kaiser regained his consciousness again, the first thing he noticed was that he didn't feel anything.
No pain. No weight. No body.
He was floating in a white space that didn't really feel like a room. It had no walls, no floor, no ceiling. It was just... there.
"Am I dead?" he wondered.
Something answered, but not with words.
'Second'
'Leader'
'Warrior'
'Savior'
'Son'
'Human'
Thoughts flooded in Kaiser's mind all at once, overlapping and messy.
The space twisted as a presence tried to take shape. It didn't settle on a form. Instead, it felt like a mind that had been broken and glued back together badly.
Kaiser somehow knew what it was.
The God-Emperor of Mankind.
The sole ruler to the Imperium and master of all humankind. He was an immortal psyker—the strongest there is. When the galaxy engulfed in darkness, He alone radiates the world using his light.
However, what appears before Kaiser was different.
Not the confident, holy golden figure from stories, but something exhausted and fractured. His thoughts pressed into Kaiser's awareness, heavy and unfocused.
Then, without warning, part of that presence peeled away and merged with him.
Kaiser felt his awareness sharpen, like someone had suddenly turned the lights on. The pressure eased, and the chaos made a little more sense.
"You are not the Second."
Kaiser did not understand what He meant.
"Your soul," the Emperor said. "It does not resemble His."
"What?" Kaiser is utterly confused. "Am I supposed to be somebody else?"
The pressures suddenly intensified.
"How? You once ruled mankind; like I did. You crushed superstition, unified orders, and possessed unyielding will."
Vision suddenly flickered, revealing a journey of conquest from the Germania Reich.
"Is that..."
"Yes. It was your legacy," He answered.
Kaiser nearly laughed. That was not his legacy. It was save files. Mouse clicks. Game campaign that was played too late at night.
However, the Emperor did not know it. "I have decided. You will rule the Imperium in my absence. You will be the Second that has long vanished. Above all, you will be my tool to avenge the pain mankind endured for all this time."
Kaiser flinched as he realized what was about to happen.
"Wait— No! Dear Emperor!"
But it was all too late. The Emperor could no longer maintain His awareness. However, just before the connection terminated, He left a trace of His fragmented psychic core into Kaiser's.
What happened next changed how Kaiser saw the world forever.
---
Kaiser woke up sitting down.
That alone was strange, because the seat felt enormous.
He opened his eyes and found himself in a massive throne room. The architecture was odd—ornate, old-fashioned designs mixed with clean, glowing technology. It looked like someone had mashed the Buckingham Palace and a sci-fi command center altogether.
The throne he sat on was oversized, adorned in black and gold materials, clearly built for someone much larger than average.
"Right," Kaiser said slowly. "Where am I?"
"Mein Führer!" A feminine voice reached to him.
Kaiser turned, looking at the woman stood before him, calm and composed; quite tall for a mere mortal lady.
She had long dark-brown hair and wore a formal uniform that felt both noble and military. When she dropped to one knee, it was obvious she'd done it many times before.
"I am your loyal servant, Claudia von Falkenhause," she said. "I have awaited your return."
Kaiser stared at her, then down at himself.
His hands were enormously huge. His body felt powerful, unreal. When he stood, he realized he was well over three meters tall. Short black hair fell above his cheeks, and his reflection in the polished floor showed a face that looked more like a statue than a human.
He wore a white robe from waist down; bare-chested revealing dense muscles which sculpted proportionally.
Memory finally caught up to him: The Germania Reich; The Emperor.
Kaiser let out a long breath and sank back into the throne.
"So," he muttered, rubbing his face, "Was I reborn as the Second Primarch?"
After a pause, he added quietly:
"...This is too much."