Warhammer: Empire Reboot

"A total of 34,726 people died."

"The Empire will remember their sacrifice."

The next instant, the shadows at the top of the tower came to life.

Many nobles heard the same sound at the same time.

Like an iron chain dragging over bones.

It was as if someone was pressed against the wall, whispering blasphemous prayers in a cracked voice.

The first place to have an accident was the East Sky Garden.

A small family dinner is being held there.

Madame Palermo's nephew, Enoch, sat on the left side of the long table, twirling an ornate wine glass in his hand, telling jokes about the Vigilant Star Spire to a few young nobles.

Several young nobles laughed.

One of the women covered her mouth with a fan.

The fountain in the center of the garden suddenly turned red.

Crimson liquid gushed from the white stone sculpture, drenching the ornamental flowers that had been nourished by water from an entire block of the Nest.

The musician's playing went off-beat.

Immediately afterwards, the projection of the icon at the edge of the garden flickered, the double-headed eagle emblem was torn apart, and a stained eight-pointed star covered it.

A hoarse voice squeezed out from all the loudspeakers.

"The lamb of the false emperor."

"The War General remembers you."

The women screamed.

Enoch's guard commander was just about to order the garden sealed off.

But suddenly, a black iron hand emerged from the shadows behind him.

The hand gripped his helmet, its fingers tightening.

Click.

The helmet dented along with the skull.

Before the body even fell, a black-armored space soldier emerged from the shadows at the base of the wall.

His power armor was covered in charred battle marks, his shoulder armor was painted with chaotic eight-pointed stars that had been repainted in blood, he had broken iron chains dragging behind him, and several upside-down Imperial prayer plaques were nailed to his chest.

The prayer plaque was still burning, but the flames emitted a ghostly green light.

He took a step forward, crushing the white jade floor tiles, and then opened his arms.

Run!

"Scream!"

"Let your spires sing!"

Chainsaw sword activated.

Enoch finally drew his pistol and fired three shots into the black-armored warrior's chest.

The warhead exploded on the power armor, only shattering a few pieces of black ceramic steel.

The black-armored warrior looked down at the bullet wound on his chest, then looked up again.

"A noble brat."

"You hit me hard."

The next moment, he rushed in front of Enoch.

Instead of cleanly severing his neck, the chainsaw sword pressed down on his shoulder, its serrated edges biting through bone and muscle, slicing Enoch piece by piece.

The screams were shattered by the sound of chainsaws.

The young nobles at the table finally broke down.

More black-armored warriors emerged from the shadows.

Someone smashed through the stained glass and jumped from the second-floor walkway into the banquet crowd.

Someone grabbed the fleeing nobleman by the leg and dragged him back, shouting as they did so: "Dedicated to the warlord! Dedicated to the vengeful spirit!"

Private guards rushed up.

The guards formed a triangular firing formation, with plasma guns and thermal guns firing simultaneously.

A black-armored warrior was pierced through the abdomen by a jet of molten heat, and his armor plates and chunks of flesh melted together.

He looked down at the hole in his waist and suddenly burst into laughter.

Look!

I missed!

He reached into the wound and ripped out a clump of charred internal organs, then flung it at the nearest guard's mask.

The guards' view was obscured.

The next second, the black-armored warrior crashed into him, grabbed his shoulders with both hands, opened the jaws cracked beneath his helmet, and bit his throat like a mad beast.

Blood splattered on the dining table.

Another guard tried to retreat but had his knee shattered by a bomb.

The black-armored warrior grabbed the guard and slammed him down on the fleeing noblewoman.

The two collided and rolled into the bloody water beside the fountain.

The entire rooftop garden was transformed into a slaughterhouse in less than three minutes.

Flowers were trampled, wine glasses shattered, and skirts were set ablaze.

Those nobles who usually masked their rotten desires with perfume were left with nothing but screaming, pleading, and the instinct to hide behind others when faced with a truly chaotic performance.

The second outbreak occurred in a private chapel.

The deputy priest is discussing the wording of tomorrow's sermon with several diocesan agents.

The fable of the blacksmith and the battle axe has been written.

The words are gentle, but the knife is hidden.

He even prepared to add: The pillars of the empire should not be easily dismantled or altered because of a temporary victory.

This statement is both subtle and malicious.

Inside the chapel, several agents were arguing whether the word "beam" was too obvious.

Just then, black liquid flowed from the imperial statue on the altar.

A young monk was the first to see it.

He thought it was an oil leak from the pipeline and was about to go forward to check when the statue's chest suddenly exploded from the inside.

The molten beam burned through the statue, altar, and back wall.

Molten metal flowed down like tears.

Three black-armored space soldiers bent low as they entered the chapel through the burned-out hole.

They were adorned with chains, dominoes, and inverted holy symbols, their power armor covered in forged blasphemous inscriptions. The leader carried a still-dripping servo skull, from which a distorted prayer was repeatedly emanating from its megaphone.

"The emperor remained silent, while the war general whispered."

"The emperor remained silent, while the war general whispered."

The monks and their representatives in the chapel immediately erupted in anger.

The deputy high priest reacted the fastest.

He pressed the alarm under the table and simultaneously slipped a tiny data chip into his sleeve.

It contains records of accounts between the parish and various families.

He knew what to take with him.

They also knew what absolutely must not fall into the hands of others.

But as soon as he stood up, an iron hand grabbed his neck from the side.

The deputy high priest's pupils contracted.

He stared at the stained eight-pointed star on the other man's helmet and immediately began reciting an exorcism prayer.

As the first verse was uttered, the automatic holy oil spraying device on the top of the chapel was activated.

The holy oil sizzled as it was poured onto the black-armored warrior.

As the prayer reached its third verse, the black-armored warrior grabbed the deputy high priest by the neck and shoved his head into the holy water pool.

The pool water was churning.

The deputy priest gripped the edge of the pool with both hands, and mechanical scripture nails popped out of his scalp one by one.

Several cultivators rushed up from the side.

The lead black-armored warrior hurled the servo skull in his hand, which exploded in mid-air, sending bone fragments and metal shards knocking down a group of people.

Another black-armored warrior rushed between the benches, his chainsaw axe sweeping across, sending wood chips, flesh, and scrolls flying.

As he chopped, he played a distorted hymn through the megaphone in his helmet.

Several young monks collapsed on the spot.

The deputy high priest is still struggling.

After all, he had undergone soul-searching and training in resisting interrogation, making his will stronger than that of ordinary nobles.

The black-armored warrior didn't rush to kill him.

He pulled the deputy priest out of the holy water pool and brought him close to his face.

"Will you preach again tomorrow?"