Earth. Late at night.
Zeke rubbed his sore eyes and backed out of the matchmaking queue for Warhamr 40k: Space Marine 2.
Six hours.
He had played Operations mode for six solid hours, blowing apart the heads of who-knows-how-many Tyranid and Chaos scumbags with his bolter.
But now, he had to wait three minutes just to find a match. This ga was dying.
"Emperor Above, this matchmaking system has to be blessed by Tzeentch," he muttered, his fingers clacking on the keyboard as he typed out the full of his gaming ID: [Loyal to the Emperor But I Have to Work on Monday So I Can Only Play Until 2 AM].
This was his universal userna across all gas. Its length was atrocious, but its aning was crystal clear.
Just as he was about to close Steam and click on a hidden folder labeled 'Study Materials', a pop-up window appeared without warning, slapping him right in the face.
"Epoch 40k: cha. The Sea of Stars, Yours to Explore."
He read it aloud, his voice thick with the absurdity of a personal offense. "What kind of asset-flip developer ca up with this na?"
"Do you know what '40k' ans in the gaming community?"
"Do you know how many lore books, how many retcons, how much 'power of WAAAGH!', and how many Tin Can sacrifices are behind those two numbers?!"
He moved his mouse, aiming precisely for the 'X' in the top right corner of the pop-up.
This page... was too clean.
There were no flashing banners saying "First Top-Up gets a free Bolter!," nor were there any pop-ups shouting, "If you're a Primarch, co fight !" It was as clean as the title page of the Ecclesiarchy's Holy Lexicon—if you ignored that heretical "Sea of Stars, Yours to Explore" slogan, anyway.
"Alright, let this Loyalist see what kind of Chaos den this digital plague leaked out of."
He clicked on it, fully intending to report it the mont he finished looking. He even had the reason prepared: Suspected T'au Empire Cultural Infiltration.
The cinematic began to play.
Stars, warships, chas... smooth visuals, hard-hitting sci-fi designs, and a soaring atmosphere of exploration.
Zeke's crossed arms slowly loosened.
"...Fuck."
Ten seconds later, "This CG... it actually has a bit of the aesthetic beauty of Sanguinius's wings?"
"Wait, no. These chs don't have skulls or Aquilas. They're as clean as a militant atheist! But this texture quality..."
He noticed the closed beta slots: 5,000. The number hadn't moved yet.
Curiosity—a driving force second only to his loyalty to the Emperor and his hatred of heretics—compelled him.
He imdiately tabbed over to an encrypted chat group nad Terra Underground Cyber Tavern (Non-Heretical).
[Loyal to the Emperor]: "@everyone Look at this pop-up! Epoch 40k: cha! Which Chaos spawn set this up?"
[I'm Not the Lord Regent, I'm Just a Passing Guilliman]:
"??? Too many conflicting elents in that na."
"Is the link safe?"
"Last ti I clicked on a link to 'Conquer the Eye of Terror', I woke up the next day with 50 gigs of Nurgle stickers on my hard drive."
[Schrödinger's Loyalist]:
"Epoch 40k? Good lord, they locked the tiline down that hard?"
"Aren't they afraid the Inquisition will arrest them as temporal heretics?"
[Fugitive Cogboy of the chanicus]:
"I've clicked in."
"The CG rendering precision exceeds common comrcial engines by 17.4%. The cha structural designs lack logical aesthetic features (no skull decorations or holy litanies). Suspected to be the product of an unknown technological power."
"It's a bit suspicious, but highly intriguing."
[Did the White Scars Speed Today?]:
"Fast hands got it! Slot GET! Lightning fast! But why didn't I have to fill out any info? That was faster than an Ork looting scrap!"
[The Emperor's Sword But It's Very Blunt]:
"I clicked it too! Ain't this distribution thod a bit too casual? It's literally just 'I finks u can do it', Ork style!"
Seeing several veterans in the group instantly making a move, Zeke hurriedly tabbed back to the page and clicked.
The numbers started dropping: 4,999... 4,998... the speed was accelerating.
"Interesting." He tabbed back to the group.
[Loyal to the Emperor But No Pardons for Traitors Today]:
"There are only 5,000 spots! Whether it's a trial from the Emperor or a maze from Tzeentch, just fill the slots first!"
"Worst case scenario, we load in yelling 'For the Emperor!' If they're friendlies, we chop heretics together; if it's a trap, we chop the devs!"
[Soul of Cadia (Laid Off)]:
"Filled! Cadians never retreat! Even if it is a trap!"
[I Want the Halo of Tranquility But I'm Broke]:
"Filled."
"I just hope the psychic lore in this is reasonable, and not like certain gas where psykers just shoot fireworks."
[T'au-Kun, You're Right, But the Bolter is Righter]:
"Reserved."
"I shall observe cautiously in the Emperor's na."
"If I detect any Gue'vesa (T'au sympathizer) tendencies, I will imdiately execute physical purification."
–
Soon, the 5,000 slots were exhausted.
Zeke received a brief confirmation prompt, and then... total silence.
For the rest of the day, Zeke was completely distracted.
Even while slacking off at work, all he could think about was the ga.
No VR equipnt required—so how do they achieve imrsion? Did brain-interface tech finally have a breakthrough? Impossible, there hasn't been a single leak in the news. Is it so new kind of hypnosis or subconscious projection? Wouldn't that make it a cult?
He checked his email and ssages constantly, terrified of missing the download link.
It wasn't until 11:00 PM, just as he was getting ready to wash up and go to sleep, that an incredibly inconspicuous download prompt popped up in the bottom right corner of his monitor.
The installation package wasn't large. It was only 17kb.
"This small? You've got to be kidding ." Zeke casually downloaded it and clicked open.
A pitch-black screen imdiately popped up, displaying a line of text:
[Connection preparing... Please ensure you are in a safe environnt. The imrsive experience will last approximately 8 hours. External sensory perception will be temporarily disabled.]
"Are they for real?"
Zeke took a deep breath and clicked 'Confirm'.
His senses were violently pulled away. He felt himself falling.
There was no expected character creation screen, only darkness and a silent descent.
Then, fragnted, unfamiliar images and sensations began to bleed into his consciousness, like drops of ink diffusing in clear water.
...The texture of coarse, gritty bread...
...The harsh scolding of a man nad 'Old Barry'...
...Hauling heavy parts in a grease-stained workshop, arms aching...
..."Karl," soone calls you... No, they aren't calling you...
...The ash-gray sky of Aru City, the massive smokestacks...
...A blurry face, perhaps a family mber...
...Fear of the Redblaze Wasteland, the howling in the night...
These fragnts were chaotic yet incredibly real, carrying the raw, gritty texture of absolute bottom-tier poverty.
They settled rapidly, forming a thin layer of background mories, as if they had always been there and he was just now recalling them.
Imdiately after, a cold voice rang out directly in the depths of his mind, contrasting sharply with the warmth of the mory fragnts:
[Local identity mory fragnt implantation complete. To facilitate identification and player coordination, please set your public Player Identification (Na). This ID will serve as your primary interaction credential.]
Zeke's consciousness was still a bit hazy, the trivial mories of 'Karl' blurring his focus slightly.
But his powerful gar instincts instantly suppressed the discomfort.
"A na? Isn't that just a ga ID?"
His mind raced. "In a place that sounds this hardcore, if I walk around with a na like [Loyal to the Emperor But I Have to Work on Monday], I'll probably get beaten to death."
"It needs to be short, punchy, and clearly state my faction!"
Focusing his will, he transmitted his ssage back to the cold voice:
"[Eternally Loyal to the Emperor]."
[Identification Confird: Eternally Loyal to the Emperor. Link stabilized. Consciousness projection initiating.]
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