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Also, I want to point out that normal psykers have precog that allows them to realize the path to defeating an opponent before the battle has even started.
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Kriemhild Gretchen vs The Emperor of Mankind
- Thread starter Homu_Sweet_Homu
- Start date
- Status
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@Matt
And don't forget that aside from just resorting to punching each other, they punched each other across every plane of existence. Because screw it.
And don't forget that aside from just resorting to punching each other, they punched each other across every plane of existence. Because screw it.
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She has a resistance to power null, ignoring the fact that it would still badly cripple him (though I admit it would probably not kill him). And if he does it starting the second it affects him, would that not give UKG only more time to find another way to kill him. Though again, while he won't immediately start affected, he will be affected before he can think as it is a passive ability.
Hmmm, that begs the question, assuming what you said above is true, what can he do crippled?
Hmmm, that begs the question, assuming what you said above is true, what can he do crippled?
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What is UKG's best holy manip feat, by the way?
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@Azzy
According to the testimony of Jenetia Krole, the Knight Commander of the Sisters of Silence, Magnus and Russ were trading blows on every plane of reality and across countless parallel existences simulanteously, and were breaking the fabric of space-time apart due to the sheer potency of their fight.
Every bystander saw the last blow that Russ did against Magnus differently, as each bystander could only perceive a fraction of the battle.
According to the testimony of Jenetia Krole, the Knight Commander of the Sisters of Silence, Magnus and Russ were trading blows on every plane of reality and across countless parallel existences simulanteously, and were breaking the fabric of space-time apart due to the sheer potency of their fight.
Every bystander saw the last blow that Russ did against Magnus differently, as each bystander could only perceive a fraction of the battle.
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@SD
Does she have resistance to power null on his level, though? Because not all power null is the same. The passive ability will also have to go through his inherent defenses first, which I can assure you will not happen before he can think (especially if certain instances characters trying to interact with the Emperor at other points in time are taken into consideration).
Everything he can do as his consciousness. Or just heal himself up, assuming he doesn't have to stay on the Golden Throne for plot reasons (which he won't, in this fight).
Does she have resistance to power null on his level, though? Because not all power null is the same. The passive ability will also have to go through his inherent defenses first, which I can assure you will not happen before he can think (especially if certain instances characters trying to interact with the Emperor at other points in time are taken into consideration).
Everything he can do as his consciousness. Or just heal himself up, assuming he doesn't have to stay on the Golden Throne for plot reasons (which he won't, in this fight).
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@Kep scales from someone who should just generically defeat beings in PMMM with sins. Not that it matters tho, it gets upscaled via fate potential, and UKG's is literally that she is a threat to the multiverse.
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Here's what Emprah can do as a corpse:
Time twisted.
Time shifted.
Time was, and was not.
An eerie silver power flowed through Jaq, as though he had invoked it by those words. The power used his mind as its conductor. He sensed how the time stream itself was being negated and annulled.
Some psykers of the highest level could distort time thus. Not Jaq, hitherto.
Never Jaq.
Yet now...
Was he possessed?
By no daemon, certainly. But by the shining path itself. To his senses that path now appeared to be the track of a phosphorescent arrow through twisted geometries. The arrow had accumulated a charge at its point until that point could transfix the fabric of time itself, pinning time temporarily like a moth with a needle through its spine...
'Run, now!' cried Jaq.
Did he and his abnormal family flit like hummingbirds which seem to flicker directly from one point in space to another, passing in and out of existence? Afterwards Jaq believed they must have darted thus ― across the static, time-stopped Chamber of Glory, past the frozen Companions, and through the Titan Archway between the motionless menacing colossi. And still the lustrous arrow impaled the tissue of time.
THROBBING PIPES RIBBED the walls of the vast throne room beyond. The muscles of the room were thick power cables feeding stegosaurian engines. The air was spiked with crisp ozone and bitter myrrh, and ointmented with balmy, somewhat greasy fragrances. The holiest battle banners, icons and golden fetishes flanked the arena of dedication where psykers were soul-bound. Squads of Emperor's Companions who guarded that vast hall, a mob of tech-priests ministering to the machinery, a gaudy Cardinal Palatinate and his entourage, a red-robed High Lord of Terra and his staff ― not to mention great clusters of astropaths, chirurgeons, scholastics, battlemasters: all were motionless.
The immense, soaring, tube-ridged throne resembled some fossilised, metastasised sloth crafted by some mad master of the Adeptus Titanicus. And it seemed to Jaq, though he did not know whether what he saw was true, or mere delusion instilled by that same psyker-dream, that this enormous, sacred prosthetic device, more precious by far than any gold, framed the wizened, mummified face of the God-Emperor.
Who looked not; though he saw through eyes of the mind, saw far beyond his throne room and his palace and the solar system. Who breathed not; yet he lived more fiercely than any mortal, enduring a psychically supercharged life-in-death.
'WE ARE CURIOUS,' came a mighty, anguished thought which itself transcended time.
'WE HAVE FOLLOWED YOUR INTRUSION INTO OUR SANCTUARY, OUR ANTRUM AND ADYTUM.'
'My lord.' Jaq sank to his knees. 'I beg to report to you before I am destroyed. I may have uncovered a major conspiracy—'
'THEN WE WILL STRIP YOUR SOUL BARE. RELAX, MORTAL MAN, OR YOU WILL SURELY DIE IN SUCH PAIN AS WE ALWAYS ENDURE.'
Jaq breathed deeply, slowly, stilling the panic that fluttered under his ribs like a trapped bird. He surrendered himself. A hurricane roared through his mind.
If the story that he had thought to relate were a tangled forest ― and if each event in that story were a tree ― then within moments all the leaves were stripped away from all of the trees, denuding them to bare wintry twigs, to a raw basic life without the foliage of memories.
He was drained of his story; that was sucked from him in a trice, all of those leaves whirling into the mind-maw of the Master. Jaq gagged. Jaq drooled.
He was an imbecile, less than an imbecile.
He was less than a new-born baby.
He neither knew where he was, nor who he was ― nor what it even meant to be a someone.
The inquisitor sprawled. All that was known to his body was distress, the gurglings of the guts, breath and light. Light from afar.
ABRUPTLY, ALL MEMORY flooded back. On that instant, each leaf sprouted anew to recloak the forest of his life. 'WE HAVE PUT BACK WHAT WE TOOK AND TASTED, INQUISITOR'
Time twisted.
Time shifted.
Time was, and was not.
An eerie silver power flowed through Jaq, as though he had invoked it by those words. The power used his mind as its conductor. He sensed how the time stream itself was being negated and annulled.
Some psykers of the highest level could distort time thus. Not Jaq, hitherto.
Never Jaq.
Yet now...
Was he possessed?
By no daemon, certainly. But by the shining path itself. To his senses that path now appeared to be the track of a phosphorescent arrow through twisted geometries. The arrow had accumulated a charge at its point until that point could transfix the fabric of time itself, pinning time temporarily like a moth with a needle through its spine...
'Run, now!' cried Jaq.
Did he and his abnormal family flit like hummingbirds which seem to flicker directly from one point in space to another, passing in and out of existence? Afterwards Jaq believed they must have darted thus ― across the static, time-stopped Chamber of Glory, past the frozen Companions, and through the Titan Archway between the motionless menacing colossi. And still the lustrous arrow impaled the tissue of time.
THROBBING PIPES RIBBED the walls of the vast throne room beyond. The muscles of the room were thick power cables feeding stegosaurian engines. The air was spiked with crisp ozone and bitter myrrh, and ointmented with balmy, somewhat greasy fragrances. The holiest battle banners, icons and golden fetishes flanked the arena of dedication where psykers were soul-bound. Squads of Emperor's Companions who guarded that vast hall, a mob of tech-priests ministering to the machinery, a gaudy Cardinal Palatinate and his entourage, a red-robed High Lord of Terra and his staff ― not to mention great clusters of astropaths, chirurgeons, scholastics, battlemasters: all were motionless.
The immense, soaring, tube-ridged throne resembled some fossilised, metastasised sloth crafted by some mad master of the Adeptus Titanicus. And it seemed to Jaq, though he did not know whether what he saw was true, or mere delusion instilled by that same psyker-dream, that this enormous, sacred prosthetic device, more precious by far than any gold, framed the wizened, mummified face of the God-Emperor.
Who looked not; though he saw through eyes of the mind, saw far beyond his throne room and his palace and the solar system. Who breathed not; yet he lived more fiercely than any mortal, enduring a psychically supercharged life-in-death.
'WE ARE CURIOUS,' came a mighty, anguished thought which itself transcended time.
'WE HAVE FOLLOWED YOUR INTRUSION INTO OUR SANCTUARY, OUR ANTRUM AND ADYTUM.'
'My lord.' Jaq sank to his knees. 'I beg to report to you before I am destroyed. I may have uncovered a major conspiracy—'
'THEN WE WILL STRIP YOUR SOUL BARE. RELAX, MORTAL MAN, OR YOU WILL SURELY DIE IN SUCH PAIN AS WE ALWAYS ENDURE.'
Jaq breathed deeply, slowly, stilling the panic that fluttered under his ribs like a trapped bird. He surrendered himself. A hurricane roared through his mind.
If the story that he had thought to relate were a tangled forest ― and if each event in that story were a tree ― then within moments all the leaves were stripped away from all of the trees, denuding them to bare wintry twigs, to a raw basic life without the foliage of memories.
He was drained of his story; that was sucked from him in a trice, all of those leaves whirling into the mind-maw of the Master. Jaq gagged. Jaq drooled.
He was an imbecile, less than an imbecile.
He was less than a new-born baby.
He neither knew where he was, nor who he was ― nor what it even meant to be a someone.
The inquisitor sprawled. All that was known to his body was distress, the gurglings of the guts, breath and light. Light from afar.
ABRUPTLY, ALL MEMORY flooded back. On that instant, each leaf sprouted anew to recloak the forest of his life. 'WE HAVE PUT BACK WHAT WE TOOK AND TASTED, INQUISITOR'
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Leaning towards Emprah here.
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@Matt
"Top 10 Literal Corpses in Anime"
"Top 10 Literal Corpses in Anime"
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@Azzy should be upscaled and, if we're going by the same reasoning behind EOM's Power Null resistance, would scale from Ultimate Madoka. Can you explain these defenses?
I think it might be hard if he is that badly burned. Which reminds me, you said the "destoying evil intent" ability wouldn't work because you assumed he wanting to kill UKG =/= evil intent right? Well, it doesn't just target evil intent, it can target the whole spectrum, at times even on accident.
I think it might be hard if he is that badly burned. Which reminds me, you said the "destoying evil intent" ability wouldn't work because you assumed he wanting to kill UKG =/= evil intent right? Well, it doesn't just target evil intent, it can target the whole spectrum, at times even on accident.
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By the way, Emprah's defenses can casually contain Magnus's attacks for entire months.
The same attacks that were annihilating the fabric of reality.
The same attacks that were annihilating the fabric of reality.
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@Matt that surely isn't the best he can do as a corpse can he? I'mma just assume Azzy had other info putting him as haxxed as he is.
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Another example of the Emperor's psychic consciousness. This is about its effect in the Material Universe, mind you:
'Father,' he mouthed. Poisoned blood frothed at the gash in his neck. 'Father, who will guide them now?'
'What is he saying?' cried an anguished voice. 'What does he say?'
Father, thought Guilliman. Save me.
His hearts quivered one last time, drawing themselves in for a further beat that would not come. The voices of his sons sounded far away.
Darkness enveloped him.
His hearts relaxed.
The flow of blood ceased.
He stood upon a precipice. A roaring, terrifying sea of souls haunted by the laughing of mad gods churned all around, red and ugly.
'Father!' Guilliman shouted, his voice free from the prison of his flesh. His sons could not hear him now, but he was heard.
There was a cold, golden light, and an end to pain. The roaring sea vanished. Sorrow engulfed his soul.
Roboute Guilliman was no more.
The immensity of the void is impossible to understand; the layered infinities of the empyrean even more so.
Only death can encompass them both.
'Father,' he mouthed. Poisoned blood frothed at the gash in his neck. 'Father, who will guide them now?'
'What is he saying?' cried an anguished voice. 'What does he say?'
Father, thought Guilliman. Save me.
His hearts quivered one last time, drawing themselves in for a further beat that would not come. The voices of his sons sounded far away.
Darkness enveloped him.
His hearts relaxed.
The flow of blood ceased.
He stood upon a precipice. A roaring, terrifying sea of souls haunted by the laughing of mad gods churned all around, red and ugly.
'Father!' Guilliman shouted, his voice free from the prison of his flesh. His sons could not hear him now, but he was heard.
There was a cold, golden light, and an end to pain. The roaring sea vanished. Sorrow engulfed his soul.
Roboute Guilliman was no more.
The immensity of the void is impossible to understand; the layered infinities of the empyrean even more so.
Only death can encompass them both.
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@Kep by fabric of reality are you refering to 1-B reality or?... It doesn't help that it isn't being really specific.
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@SD
Upscaled to High 1-B? Because if it isn't, you aren't auto-bypassing his defenses. There's a reason the Chaos Gods resorted to stuff like, "Just have his son punch him in the face across all levels of existence. Whatever, man."
Which part of his defenses do you want to know about?
I don't know if being badly burned is going to stop him if he could still function as a corpse after being repeatedly throat punched in the soul.
The main point about it not working is that you're not trying to change the intent/mind of a regular person. You're doing it to a timeless metaphysical entity whose intent is part of its very being. I posted a related Dark Imperium quote, a while back.
Upscaled to High 1-B? Because if it isn't, you aren't auto-bypassing his defenses. There's a reason the Chaos Gods resorted to stuff like, "Just have his son punch him in the face across all levels of existence. Whatever, man."
Which part of his defenses do you want to know about?
I don't know if being badly burned is going to stop him if he could still function as a corpse after being repeatedly throat punched in the soul.
The main point about it not working is that you're not trying to change the intent/mind of a regular person. You're doing it to a timeless metaphysical entity whose intent is part of its very being. I posted a related Dark Imperium quote, a while back.
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@SD
All worlds and universes.
All worlds and universes.
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Nullifying and erasing the existence of the timestream with a thought and transcending time with your voice is a hell of a feat, as well as the shit he did to that guy's mind.SomebodyData said:
But no, he also maintains an astro-telepathic psychic beacon 70,000 lightyears across 24/7, alongside with keeping Earth (and probably the Solar System) from being consumed in a giant Warp Storm. And he has done this for over 11,000 years.
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Pretty sure Matt is just showing you that even as an actual corpse forced to expend most of his power to constantly guide humanity through the Warp and stop the immaterium from breaking through to realspace, he's doing stuff like nullifying the time stream with a consciousness that is beyond time.SomebodyData said:
This is of course also ignoring that many of his abilities function on a High 1-B level.
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At this point it's gonna be good to relax and enjoy a healthy dose of spectating a heated debate.
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@SD
I hardly think time itself being virtually irrelevant to him, to the point where his presence destroys it and his voice is described as being above it is a "is that the best he can do?" situation.
It's a ridiculously impressive feat for how casual it was.
By a dead~~body.
I hardly think time itself being virtually irrelevant to him, to the point where his presence destroys it and his voice is described as being above it is a "is that the best he can do?" situation.
It's a ridiculously impressive feat for how casual it was.
By a dead~~body.
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Don't forget this is also while almost all of his power is being used for other things.Kepekley23 said:
Which won't be the case, here.
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@Azzy
Would it not be a NLF to assume his defenses also cover an ability he hasn't dealed with? Not to mention, wouldn't that make him 1-B in durability as well?
The part that covers sin based holy manip.
Well isn't that because his consciousness is not limited to his death? The same may not apply when he is crippled that badly?
Like I said, it should be upscaled, and given we talking about another metaphysical entity doing this to him...
Would it not be a NLF to assume his defenses also cover an ability he hasn't dealed with? Not to mention, wouldn't that make him 1-B in durability as well?
The part that covers sin based holy manip.
Well isn't that because his consciousness is not limited to his death? The same may not apply when he is crippled that badly?
Like I said, it should be upscaled, and given we talking about another metaphysical entity doing this to him...
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That's not how NLFs work.
If he has dealt with abilities on the same level and some which could be said to be far more haxxed, it's just fair to say his defenses easily cover it. Heck, it's a low-end.
For an entire month, the Emperor contained Magnus's physic powers. The same powers that were casually destroying reality, space and time across the WH40K multiverse.
If he has dealt with abilities on the same level and some which could be said to be far more haxxed, it's just fair to say his defenses easily cover it. Heck, it's a low-end.
For an entire month, the Emperor contained Magnus's physic powers. The same powers that were casually destroying reality, space and time across the WH40K multiverse.
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Another example of what the Emperor really is, from The Master of Mankind (Amazing book, btw):
Ra opened his eyes to absolute blackness. A darkness deep enough to penetrate the senses, filling his eye sockets like pools of spilled oil. He waited for his perceptions to align. There was no fear. He knew the sensation of his master's summons.
Remorse sat within his heart, this time. The ambush at the Ossuary still tore at him, its questions presenting no easy answers.
We were so close.
No answer came from the Emperor ― if his king had even heard.
Soon, there was light. Faint. Fractured. Tormentingly distant. Light manifesting in pinpricks, the iota-eyes of faraway suns. They speckled the void in a milky rash, glinting, winking, each one staring with a light that took a brief eternity to reach Ra's senses.
He was without form and shape. He merely existed in the void, a presence above a world cradled in the infinite black, a war-eaten planet bathed by the fusion glare of its insignificant yellow sun.
'Terra,' he said, without mouth, breath, teeth or tongue.
+Terra.+ The Emperor's voice thrummed through his skull. Disembodied, as eternal as any star. +Mere centuries ago, in the thrall of the Unification Wars. Warlords and archpriestesses and magician-kings and clan chiefs fight over the harrowed territory of a broken world. My Thunder Legion marches to war against them. Against all of them.+''
'It grieves me not to have fought at your side in those days, my king.'
+Your loyalty is noted, yet your grief is irrelevant.+
'Why am I here?' Ra thought and spoke at once. No discernible separation existed between what was in his mind and what he vocalised into the void.
+Because I will it.+
It was the only answer he required, but he had hoped for more. Whatever purpose this illumination served was, so far, beyond Ra's guesswork.
Ra opened his eyes to absolute blackness. A darkness deep enough to penetrate the senses, filling his eye sockets like pools of spilled oil. He waited for his perceptions to align. There was no fear. He knew the sensation of his master's summons.
Remorse sat within his heart, this time. The ambush at the Ossuary still tore at him, its questions presenting no easy answers.
We were so close.
No answer came from the Emperor ― if his king had even heard.
Soon, there was light. Faint. Fractured. Tormentingly distant. Light manifesting in pinpricks, the iota-eyes of faraway suns. They speckled the void in a milky rash, glinting, winking, each one staring with a light that took a brief eternity to reach Ra's senses.
He was without form and shape. He merely existed in the void, a presence above a world cradled in the infinite black, a war-eaten planet bathed by the fusion glare of its insignificant yellow sun.
'Terra,' he said, without mouth, breath, teeth or tongue.
+Terra.+ The Emperor's voice thrummed through his skull. Disembodied, as eternal as any star. +Mere centuries ago, in the thrall of the Unification Wars. Warlords and archpriestesses and magician-kings and clan chiefs fight over the harrowed territory of a broken world. My Thunder Legion marches to war against them. Against all of them.+''
'It grieves me not to have fought at your side in those days, my king.'
+Your loyalty is noted, yet your grief is irrelevant.+
'Why am I here?' Ra thought and spoke at once. No discernible separation existed between what was in his mind and what he vocalised into the void.
+Because I will it.+
It was the only answer he required, but he had hoped for more. Whatever purpose this illumination served was, so far, beyond Ra's guesswork.
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@SD
Considering all psykers have generalized power null and the Emperor is the best of them? Alongside the fact this ability's scale is infinitely below what he has dealt with? No, probably not.
"wouldn't that make him 1-B in durability as well?"
No. Just through his defenses against metaphysical abilities. Horus could still punch him in the face.
I'm not sure what you mean by that. He still killed Horus when he was crippled, and his consciousness as a corpse still has to deal with mankind across the galaxy and in their travels though the Warp.
Yes but how upscaled?
Considering all psykers have generalized power null and the Emperor is the best of them? Alongside the fact this ability's scale is infinitely below what he has dealt with? No, probably not.
"wouldn't that make him 1-B in durability as well?"
No. Just through his defenses against metaphysical abilities. Horus could still punch him in the face.
I'm not sure what you mean by that. He still killed Horus when he was crippled, and his consciousness as a corpse still has to deal with mankind across the galaxy and in their travels though the Warp.
Yes but how upscaled?
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Hmmm, then I guess I cave in, going for the Emperor.
That said though, this seems kinda like a waste of time. I already pointed out earlier in the thread even if UKG or the Emperor won, it couldn't be added as not only is UKG under revisions, but the Emperor, in your group's own words, needed work and lacks some of the abilities and resistances stated here.
That said though, this seems kinda like a waste of time. I already pointed out earlier in the thread even if UKG or the Emperor won, it couldn't be added as not only is UKG under revisions, but the Emperor, in your group's own words, needed work and lacks some of the abilities and resistances stated here.
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Almost all psyker abilites scale to him, both in resistance and in use. Just the implications of that tell me he can negg something as comparatively low as her Holy Manip.
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@SD
Have you seen the quote for the Emperor's EE, just out of curiosity?
Have you seen the quote for the Emperor's EE, just out of curiosity?
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Also, because Matt posted a The Master of Mankind quote, it's also worth noting that the materium Emperor fought this thing without any ill effects aside from going, "Oh ****, it's that guy". Even after it impaled him.
"Behind the veil, the scream takes a carnival of forms, riotous and infinite in variety. The frail laws of physics that so coldly govern the material universe have no power ― here, those binding codes fracture into their separate fictions. Here, time itself goes to die.
On and on it plunges, crashing and dissolving and reforming in the endless storm. It ruptures a cloud-burst of other screams that haven't yet been cried aloud. It punctures the fire-flesh of shrieking ghosts, adding to the torment of those lost and forsaken souls. It knifes through a disease that was rendered extinct by man-made cures twenty-six thousand years before.
And on. And on. And on. Clashing with moments that haven't yet happened, that won't happen for half an eternity. Grinding against events that took place back when the earliest Terran creatures exhaled water and ― for the very first time ― raked in lungfuls of air.
Behind the veil, there is no when and then. Everything is now. Always and eternally now, in the shifting tides of an infinite malignance.
Lights shine in that malignant black: the lights of sentience that draw the darkness closer. The same lights flare and shriek and dissolve at the merest touch from the forces around them. Dreams and memories take shape only to shatter amidst the claws and jaws manifesting within the nothingness.
The scream plunges on through every whisper of hatred that will ever be spoken by a human mouth or thought by a human mind. It cracks like lightning above the sky of a dying civilisation that will expire before ever grasping the wonder of space flight. It breaks the stone city-bones of a culture gone to dust thousands of years ago.
From its genesis in breath and sound the scream becomes acidic nothingness, then fury and fire. It becomes a memory that burns, a whisper that rends and a prophecy that bleeds.
And it becomes a name. A name that means nothing in any language spoken by any species, living or dead. A name that carries meaning only in the strangled, misfiring thoughts of humans breathing their last breaths, in that precious and terrifying moment when their spirits are caught between one realm and the next.
The name of a creature, a daemon born from the cold rage of one traitorous soul in one treacherous second. Its name is the deed itself, the first murder and the death rattle that followed.
In the creature's shrieking journey across the warp, it touches the minds of every human who ever was and will ever be, from the long dead to those yet to be born. The daemon is tied to the species with such primal intimacy that every man, woman and child knows its caress ― deep in their blood and bones ― even if they know nothing of its name.
Billions of them stir in their sleep across the many ages of man, writhing against the unwanted touch of the creature's birth back in the mists of time.
Millions of them wake, staring into the darkness of mud huts, palatial bedchambers, housing complexes and any one of the countless other structures that humans build for themselves across a million worlds and thousands of years." - The Master of Mankind
"Behind the veil, the scream takes a carnival of forms, riotous and infinite in variety. The frail laws of physics that so coldly govern the material universe have no power ― here, those binding codes fracture into their separate fictions. Here, time itself goes to die.
On and on it plunges, crashing and dissolving and reforming in the endless storm. It ruptures a cloud-burst of other screams that haven't yet been cried aloud. It punctures the fire-flesh of shrieking ghosts, adding to the torment of those lost and forsaken souls. It knifes through a disease that was rendered extinct by man-made cures twenty-six thousand years before.
And on. And on. And on. Clashing with moments that haven't yet happened, that won't happen for half an eternity. Grinding against events that took place back when the earliest Terran creatures exhaled water and ― for the very first time ― raked in lungfuls of air.
Behind the veil, there is no when and then. Everything is now. Always and eternally now, in the shifting tides of an infinite malignance.
Lights shine in that malignant black: the lights of sentience that draw the darkness closer. The same lights flare and shriek and dissolve at the merest touch from the forces around them. Dreams and memories take shape only to shatter amidst the claws and jaws manifesting within the nothingness.
The scream plunges on through every whisper of hatred that will ever be spoken by a human mouth or thought by a human mind. It cracks like lightning above the sky of a dying civilisation that will expire before ever grasping the wonder of space flight. It breaks the stone city-bones of a culture gone to dust thousands of years ago.
From its genesis in breath and sound the scream becomes acidic nothingness, then fury and fire. It becomes a memory that burns, a whisper that rends and a prophecy that bleeds.
And it becomes a name. A name that means nothing in any language spoken by any species, living or dead. A name that carries meaning only in the strangled, misfiring thoughts of humans breathing their last breaths, in that precious and terrifying moment when their spirits are caught between one realm and the next.
The name of a creature, a daemon born from the cold rage of one traitorous soul in one treacherous second. Its name is the deed itself, the first murder and the death rattle that followed.
In the creature's shrieking journey across the warp, it touches the minds of every human who ever was and will ever be, from the long dead to those yet to be born. The daemon is tied to the species with such primal intimacy that every man, woman and child knows its caress ― deep in their blood and bones ― even if they know nothing of its name.
Billions of them stir in their sleep across the many ages of man, writhing against the unwanted touch of the creature's birth back in the mists of time.
Millions of them wake, staring into the darkness of mud huts, palatial bedchambers, housing complexes and any one of the countless other structures that humans build for themselves across a million worlds and thousands of years." - The Master of Mankind
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I am just gonna save this thread for future purposes
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Now you die,' said the Emperor, and ripped his blade up.
It was an awful, agonising, mortal wound. Electrical fire vented from hideous metal organs within the wreckage of the greenskin's body. It was a murderous wound that not even a beast of such unimaginable proportions could take and live.
Yet that was not the worst of it.
Horus felt the build up of colossal psychic energies and shielded his eyes as a furious light built within the Emperor. Power like nothing he had ever seen his father wield, or even suspected he possessed. All consuming, all powerful, it was the power to extinguish life in every sphere of its existence. Physical flesh turned to ash before it and what ancient faiths had once called a soul was burned out of existence, never to cohere again.
Nothing would ever remain of he who suffered such a fate. Their body and soul would pass from the finite energy of the universe, to fade into memory and have all that they were wiped from the canvas of existence. This was as complete a death as it was possible to suffer.
It was an awful, agonising, mortal wound. Electrical fire vented from hideous metal organs within the wreckage of the greenskin's body. It was a murderous wound that not even a beast of such unimaginable proportions could take and live.
Yet that was not the worst of it.
Horus felt the build up of colossal psychic energies and shielded his eyes as a furious light built within the Emperor. Power like nothing he had ever seen his father wield, or even suspected he possessed. All consuming, all powerful, it was the power to extinguish life in every sphere of its existence. Physical flesh turned to ash before it and what ancient faiths had once called a soul was burned out of existence, never to cohere again.
Nothing would ever remain of he who suffered such a fate. Their body and soul would pass from the finite energy of the universe, to fade into memory and have all that they were wiped from the canvas of existence. This was as complete a death as it was possible to suffer.
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I said he mainly needs clarification. The bones of what he can do are present, but it's a good idea to expand upon it so it doesn't need to be constantly explained.SomebodyData said:
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No actually, mind posting it on my wall? (we did kinda derail it honestly) @Matt
Before this thread my only non-profile based knowledge about 40K was that Metroid references 40K and 40K referenced it back lol
Before this thread my only non-profile based knowledge about 40K was that Metroid references 40K and 40K referenced it back lol
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Not even PMMM can resist the sheer ridiculousness that is Warhammer 40k.
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@Azzy don't forget a resistance to all of the abilities used by the 1-B guys.
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In the grim dark future of the 41st millennium there is only resistancesHolyhotsauce said:
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If it helps, Kep just posted one of them, and I posted one earlier in regards to Vulkan using something the Emperor had him subconsciously forge.SomebodyData said:
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Warhammer 40k: The place where spam characters go to die.Thatoneguy78 said:
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Warhammer 40k: proving too you that the 41st millennium is really OP
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