Unlucky isekai? (Warhammer 40000)

Decius Numenorius, Lord Constable of the Planetary Defense Force, paced nervously through the pure gold floors of the personal palace of the personal palace of the planetary governor of the Ixodus hive, and part-time ruler of the planet Antara.

The heavy cloak touched the floor a little with each step, but only a madman would think that even a little dust could have accumulated on the gold of the palace. If such a thing ever happened, punishment would follow immediately. Not only the servants, but also their superiors would be subjected to torture and subsequent servitization, or in other words, transformation into mindless, cybernetically-enhanced slaves.

Moreover, the terrible punishment would reach even the families of the unfortunate. Only small children and infants had a vague chance of surviving the punishment. However, sometimes death is much preferable to life, for these children would be sent to the most cruel and merciless educational institutions, where death in the classroom is quite a part of the acceptable statistics.

Needless to say, the Lord Constable of SPO, one of the first most influential men in the star system, was very afraid to go to the Governor with the news he was bringing? Especially now, since Francois Verdon had the pleasure of playing chess, an ancient game rumored to have come as far back as Holy Terra itself.

One thing Decius knew for sure, if their ancestors had played such games, they were truly scoundrels.

As he approached the heavy, diamond-encrusted and gem-encrusted doors, Decius sighed imperceptibly and fixed an arrogant glance at the guards standing at the door. The guards, much to the Lord Constable's annoyance, were in no hurry to open the doors and begin the inspection process.

Decius had always been annoyed by these insolent bastards, who were outside his chain of command and only listed as SPOs.

Finally finishing the inspection, which was actually done back at the entrance of the palace, the guards didn't bow deeply enough and slowly opened the doors.

"Bzzz!" - At the sound of the laser shot, Decius almost took a step back, but still overcame a momentary weakness. He had to break the bad news now, for later, when the situation finally got out of control, it would be too late.

The hall in front of Numenorius was neatly drawn and divided into black and white squares, on which dozens of people dressed in various props of armor were frozen in regular order.

Yes, yes, Fransau Verdon was playing chess, using real people instead of pieces. The governor himself was lazily reclining on a box-clinion, eating grapes with one hand and waving a laz-pistol carelessly with the other. A little aside, on the field, lay a dead man, from whose back a light smoke was rising - a pawn had been eaten by another player.

François's opponent looked like an ornate servitor, whose head was replaced by a wide holoprojector showing the face of another planetary governor, of a neighboring star system.

The Lord Constable was afraid to even imagine how much money had gone into assembling such a stable link between the two star systems.

Decius gloomily looked away from the terror-filled eyes of the young girl standing next to him, playing the role of rook. One glance at Numenorius was enough to suggest that the rook would be sacrificed in three moves.

The man doubted very much that a single "figure" would voluntarily participate in this perverse game, but no one even tried to escape, realizing that in such a case their fate would be so terrible that they would not be able to realize even a part of the future pain and suffering.

- Oh, my dear Decius, don't you know that I am receiving no one this day, as I have a scheduled round with my longtime rival Quintus Bender? - The governor's voice was both whimsical and warning. This powerful man was not at all happy about the sudden meeting.

Numenorius felt sweat dripping down his tense back and forehead, but as he stretched into a front, he didn't even make the instinctive movement to wipe it away.

It was necessary to say something as quickly as possible while there was still some chance.

- Mr. Governor! - Decius bowed gracefully, at exactly the angle set by etiquette. - I have news of incredible importance!

- So important that you think it could be more important than my party with Quintus? - The governor grimaced a little, putting his perfumed handkerchief to his nose in disgust.

- Oh, François, you can see how nervous and afraid this soldier is," Bender's mannered voice came from the servitor's speakers. - Obviously, if it weren't so important, he'd never dare to disrupt our game. Besides," the hologram smiled mockingly. - Talking to him will allow you to delay your defeat a little longer.

François's body shuddered perceptibly at those words.

- We'll see about that," the governor's benevolent tone finally died and his demanding gaze settled on his Lord Constable. - So? What was the urgent matter that made you think my chess game wasn't important enough? Perhaps there's an invasion in orbit by a pirate fleet of ruthless Dark Eldar? Or mysterious Necrons crawling out of the ground? Why don't you say something, my dove? I'm beginning to think that the position of Lord Constable is too big for you, but the role of a servant will be just right for you....

- Sir! - Decius fell to his knees in panic and bowed his head as much as he could to show the full extent of his remorse. - I dared to disturb you because of the threat of rebellion! The lower levels of the hive have risen and are now making their way to the top!

- You distracted us for this? - Verdon shook his head disappointedly. - The filth from the bottom of Ixodus are always rebelling from time to time, trying to get some pathetic rights. These fools can't realize that their only right is to die and be processed into corpse bars so that the loyal citizens of the Imperium can have enough to work for the good of mankind. Nothing more!

- Of course not, sir! - Decius was quick to reply. - This rebellion is much larger and more dangerous than the previous ones. There are several times more rebels this time than in the previous uprising. They have already taken over all levels from the four hundred and twenty-sixth through the three hundredth!

- And what have you, my loyal PDF forces, been doing in the meantime? - The Governor was indignant. - Just stand by and watch them raze the property entrusted to me by the Lords of Terra?

- What a fascinating sight," came a cheerful voice from the servitor. - I always knew that you, my opponent, were not an important chess player, but your skills in selecting people for high office leave much to be desired!

- A single failure means nothing, Burden. Now I will take care to find a worthy performer who understands that I do not care much about the issues of some niggers....

Francois' gaze flashed with rage mixed with humiliation, and Númenorius suddenly realized that he had only a few seconds before total, catastrophic failure was imminent.

- According to reports from the Adeptus Arbiteres, they are being led by a Saint! - Decius exhaled in a single sentence, fearing he would be interrupted before he did.

- What?" There was an uncomfortable silence in the hall, and both planetary governors looked at the speaker with different eyes. - Repeat the last part. And it is in your interest to be as accurate as possible.

- The Adeptus Arbiteres report that they are being led by a very real Saint of the Emperor himself. Every member of the rebellion believes the will of the Emperor God is behind them.

- And what does the Ecclesiarchy say? - François clarified after a short pause. His lazy look had gone somewhere and now the governor was as serious as possible. - Are they sure it's a real Saint?

- We have only recently received reports of this," Decius said, quickly shifting some of the responsibility to the Saints. - They are still only looking into the matter, but according to them it is very difficult to get any accurate data in the mishmash that is the rebellion. However, if I may offer my personal opinion.....

- Speak. - François ordered sharply, and even from Bender no sarcastic comment was heard.

- This rebellion is too strange and suspicious. According to intelligence reports there is a frightening and almost mystical discipline in their ranks. Whereas before waves of rebels burned and destroyed everything in their path, now they touch almost no one. Moreover, their troops hardly loot at all. Either the Saint is involved or... it's a continuation of the Chaos attack.

- Damn it!" François closed his eyes irritably and fired his las-gun at the ceiling. - That's all I need! Although..." He suddenly wondered. - How is that visiting inquisitor doing? She hadn't found the cause of the uprising at the factory, had she?

- No," Decius answered clearly, exhaling mentally. The first anger seemed to have passed him by. - She's still looking for the leaders of that cult.

- Then please inform her of our unexpected problem. I'm sure the appearance of a self-appointed Saint will surely interest her. And then, you know how to proceed..." The governor lost interest in the conversation.

- I will prepare the troops, my lord! - Numenorius began to chant with inspiration, retreating with his back to the door. - We will meet them and defeat them as we should. I will not fail you again!

- Yes, yes, of course you won't. - Nodded the governor, returning his attention to the chess game.

Decius was relieved that he was out of trouble, but the Lord Constable should have remembered long ago that François Verdon never forgave mistakes.

*****

Last time, it had taken Stas more than two months to get from the middle of the hive to almost the lowest levels, and now, given the mass of troops following him, that time was even longer.

Of course, Stanislav could simply abandon the bulk of the horde and rush forward with a small group. But in such a case Stas would not be able to control the thugs following him.

Why would he control them if his goal was death? It's complicated.

Finding himself in this world, Stanislav was not interested in anything but the desire to quickly end the surrounding farce. That is why he did not regret in the slightest all those victims that happened after his performance at the factory.

When Stas went down to the lowest point, he again didn't give a damn about those murderers and bastards who had sworn allegiance to him. The man was not fooled by their sweet speeches, realizing perfectly well what rot and abomination now followed him.

He knew for a fact that there were several cannibal gangs under his command, then there were slave-trading syndicates, and the cherry on the cake was child rapists. In the latter case, the criminals did it not so much for pleasure, but to offend their enemies. For such "habits" they received an indelible stigma, excessive even for these dark places. Stas had pre-positioned the Rapists at the very front of the offensive, throwing them in the most desperate directions.

However, as strange as it may sound, he felt sorry for the inhabitants of the higher levels of the hive.

Naturally, it wasn't about aristocrats and their lackeys, but about the ordinary citizens of Ixodus, whose lives were already a veritable darkness. And Stas didn't want to be the one to make their existence even more unbearable.

That was why he had to keep a close eye on his army, so that it would not rob, rape, kill and devour anyone.

Stas wanted to pass as quickly as possible among normal people, to take his thugs upstairs and organize a great massacre, where he himself, of course, would also lay down his head. Yes, it was just a drop in the cosmos, but with his actions he would improve this damned world a little.

So what was the man's disappointment and anger when tens of thousands of ordinary people began to join his horde! Amazed at the human attitude and mercy of the horde leader, they eagerly listened to the praises of former bandits and murderers to the Saint.

Living in endless agony, even the slightest manifestation of human kindness was perceived by them as something great and impossible.

Worse still, some of the inhabitants of the lower levels had become so imbued with the idea of serving the Saint that they began to call themselves his priests and spread his word to everyone around them. From somewhere they took out a collection of his quotations and words, and then they called it the Bible and began to preach fiercely on every corner.

The worst part was that they were believed!

At the head of these lunatics stood a very colorful character, from the mere sight of which in the past Stas would have had "condratium".

An incredibly tall, but wiry old man with long, uncombed and disheveled black hair and eyes that burned fiercely with an otherworldly light, Konstantin, and that was his name, was dressed in a long, black robe, which in the past seemed to have served as a soutane.

He was unkempt and wild, and his "perfume" would bring down an unprepared man, but when he opened his mouth, few could look away.

Every sermon he preached carried such fervor and faith that even the worst criminals wept like children, washed away by their thirst for action and service to the true Holy One.

Swearing and insults poured from Constantine as if from a cornucopia, but in some strange way it only united the surrounding flock.

However, as soon as Konstantin spoke to Stas, the uncultured barbarian instantly turned into a smiling and good-natured old man, who listened eagerly to every word of his prophet, which quickly made Stanislav uncomfortable.

No one knew where this old man had come from. He had simply arisen and taken the leadership and no one could contradict him. There were rumors that he was connected to the Ecclesiarchy, but rumors are rumors that are hard to confirm.

Meanwhile, the higher the Saint rose, the more the inhabitants of the "conquered" levels joined his holy march. The powerlessness, the cruelty of the arbiters, the unbearable living conditions - these people were ready to die if only the perverted aristocrats would die with them.

If at first Stas still tried to fight, not giving them official permission to join, then, seeing how they just follow, gave up.

Initially, Stanislav had only wanted to burn in the PDF fire, taking as many of the scum as possible with him, but now he needed a different plan.

And given the fact that according to the incoming reports, the PDF forces had almost finished assembling a defensive line to meet them, and the number of PDF troops outnumbered the rebels by a factor of three, the prospects were far from rosy.

However, even in such a situation Stas saw the pluses. After all, in any case, at the end of the suppression of the rebellion he would definitely be dead.

To somehow distract himself from the surrounding horrors of the life of ordinary hive dwellers and popping up in the memory of segments of memories of the body itself Stas began to learn how to use his weapons.

The trusty bolt pistol and chain sword were not the usual weapons for the bottom of the Hive, but the organizing force of the entire rebellion, in the person of Walter Fischer and the mad prophet Constantine quickly found him suitable instructors.

Of course, Stas would not become a great warrior in a few months, but now he knew a little more about his weapons.

At the same time, Konstantin somehow snatched a moment for himself and told Stas about the importance and usefulness of reading sacred litanies over his weapons.

At first Stas was very skeptical, but when they checked the results after shooting ranges and sword fights, the man could only shake his head silently.

Somehow, asking the bolt gun to shoot more accurately was actually making the latter improve its performance. When fighting with a sword, Stas began to move a little faster and more dexterously.

And although at first Stas did not want to waste time on such trifles, because his goal is to die, not to live, but Konstantin asked him so nicely that Stanislav simply could not refuse the old man.

Now seemed to be the time to test the weapons in action.

As soon as their horde climbed one more level, it became clear that the entire level was fully occupied by the PDF forces, who were clearly not wasting any time preparing their defenses.

Thousands of heavy stubbers waved their ravenous barrels, kilometers of barbed wire ready to hold off the invaders while their bodies were burned by laser fire and torn by stubber bullets.

For the moment, safely in place, the leaders of the rebellion gathered around a holoprojector that was broadcasting a map of this level of the hive.

Walter Fischer frowned tensely, trying this way and that to find a way to break through the defenses, but failing time after time. The PDF leader knew his business too well to leave any gap for them to slip through.

Next to Walter stood the lazily resting Konstantin, which irritated the pedantic Fischer.

There had been no friendship between the two leaders before, as they both strove to become the closest person to the Saint, which created an irresolvable conflict. Now their relationship has become even more heated.

- Will you finally get off your ass and think about how we can win? - Walter asked the suspiciously calm Konstantin caustically. - Our food supplies are not endless. Soon they will start to run out and then we will all dance.

- No, I don't see the point.

- Really?" Walter bellowed, completely pissed off. - You mean you don't care that all those people who followed and trusted you will die, and the survivors will envy the dead?

- No, I do care," Konstantin said measuredly, and then pointed leisurely at the back of the Saint standing aside and looking at the barricades of the PDF. - But if our shepherd and you are not worried, then I don't see the point in worrying either. Have more faith in our leader, because everything you see around you is probably because of him alone.

And so full of faith were Konstantin's words that Walter did not know what to say.

But before Fisher could think of anything, Stanislaw, who had not turned around, spoke up

- Make the connection," the two leaders of the rebellion immediately turned to him. - I wish to speak to the one who commands the PDF forces. Send him a message about the negotiations in exactly five hours.

Fischer and Konstantin looked at each other, but did not say anything and started giving orders.

A few hours later, Stas was informed that the link was ready.

- I, Decius Numenorius, don't know why I agreed to this conversation, - the Lord Constable who appeared on the link literally kissed his words. - After all, you are already dead, if you dared to rebel against the authority of Francois Verdon, which a priori means rebellion against the Imperium and the Emperor himself! The only thing that awaits you is death, death and death.

- Speaking of death," the lord's speech didn't fluster Stas, while the rebel commanders behind him hissed with anger. - From what I hear, you have an inquisitor with you now. I'd like to talk to her, it's a matter of the utmost importance.

From the scattered information about the upper levels came some rather interesting rumors about the Inquisitor accompanying the Lord Constable at all times. Stanislaw reasoned that the latter would be here now as well.

It was obvious that Decius wanted very much to send the insolent rebel and cut the connection, but fear stubbornly prevented him from doing so.

- I'll take it from here," someone's soft voice broke the silence, and the SPO commander was forced to step aside. In his place stood a cold-looking young woman, with black hair and eyes as deep as space. - So, you wanted to see me.

The Inquisitor was dressed in heavy technological armor, and in her hand she clutched a long scythe with a greenish, glowing blade. In her other hand she was fiddling with a small, wooden rosary. Just as the reports said, it was indeed her.

- Yes," Stas nodded decisively, then made a serious face and began to read in an official tone. - On behalf of all those gathered here, I and the volunteers who have come here express our desire to enlist in the Imperial Guard regiment and go to Armageddon to bring death and despair to the enemies of the Imperium! We are ready to atone for all our wrongs with blood for the good of the Imperium! So we entrust our fate to you, Inquisitor.

There was dead silence in both rooms.

- What?" the Lord Constable said with dead lips, imagining the reaction of the planetary governor to the news.

The inquisitor's rosary struck the floor with a clang, and she involuntarily let go of her hand.

For someone such a proposal would look like pure madness, if not for one thing. Stas recognized the symbol on the inquisitor's green braid. And in the distant past this symbol was very well known to the whole galaxy, because it belonged not to someone, but to the Necrons themselves.