RNGesus inserted the access card into the slot. The indicator light chimed softly, glowing a faint green. The heavy metal door emitted a deep mechanical hum and slowly slid inward.
The moment the scene beyond the threshold was revealed, RNGesus’s relaxed expression froze.
“So it really is a Space Marines battle barge,” he murmured, a trace of solemnity entering his voice.
Beyond the door stretched a long corridor, its end lost in darkness. Within his field of view alone, at least a dozen Space Marines in heavy power armor lay dead.
Their final moments were preserved in posture: some collapsed outright, some knelt as if refusing to fall, and others were pinned against walls—each frozen in the act of fighting to their last breath.
RNGesus carefully approached the nearest corpse.
The warrior lay on his back, one hand still gripping his bolter, the other pressed against his chest as if trying to hold in a fatal wound. RNGesus attempted to identify his Chapter, but found no answer.
The armor was predominantly deep black, almost devoid of ornamentation, exuding a cold, austere solemnity. The shoulder insignia was unfamiliar: a crossed plow and hammer forming an “X,” with an upright sword standing at the center.
He had never seen such a Chapter before—nor such iconography in any known Warhammer records.
“This is an unknown Space Marine Chapter,” he concluded quietly.
RNGesus reached out, drawn by curiosity, intending to touch the legendary armor.
Just before his fingers made contact, the helmet seemed to twitch—barely perceptible.
RNGesus flinched and staggered backward several steps.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
When he looked again, the corpse was unchanged. Still. Lifeless.
“…Just my imagination?” he muttered. “Or the light playing tricks on me.”
He exhaled slowly.
Even in death, they command presence like this…
He abandoned the idea of touching the armor and instead studied the wounds.
“What kind of injury causes this?” he muttered. “This doesn’t look like anything I recognize…”
Unable to make sense of it, he moved on.
The corridor was long—longer than it had any right to be.
At first, he walked carefully, stepping over debris and bodies. But after ten minutes, the darkness ahead remained unchanged.
He began to jog.
His footsteps echoed through the hollow passage.
Twenty minutes later, he finally reached the end.
Another door.
But this one was different—massive, nearly ten meters tall and five meters wide. Intricate bas-reliefs covered its surface.
“In one corridor… I counted forty-seven dead Space Marines,” RNGesus said, pausing before it. “Not a single survivor.”
He frowned, thinking.
“So this really is a battle barge. And the entire Chapter… might have been wiped out.”
Space Marines—the Emperor’s Angels of Death. A full Chapter numbered in the hundreds, sometimes over a thousand warriors. For an entire battle barge to fall here was almost unthinkable.
“What kind of enemy kills an entire Chapter?” he whispered.
His expression darkened slightly.
“…Warp daemons? That’s the only explanation.”
Despite his words, he didn’t seem afraid.
After all, fate was on his side. He wouldn’t die here.
He pushed.
“Screeeech—Gaaah—!”
Metal screamed under immense pressure as the door slowly yielded. RNGesus leaned his full weight into it, forcing a narrow gap open before slipping sideways through.
Beyond was the bridge.
Once a proud command center for interstellar conquest—now a ruin.
The holographic display lay shattered into crystalline fragments, scattered like broken stars.
Control consoles were torn open, wires exposed like nerves. Occasional sparks flickered across burnt circuitry. A massive hole gaped in the ceiling, revealing twisted metal and the barren desert sky outside.
The air was thick with scorched metal, blood, and decay.
At the center of the room lay a Space Marine.
Unlike the others, his armor was more ornate—dark, with gold filigree along the edges. His insignia marked him clearly as high-ranking command.
In his hand, he still clutched a dataslate.
“This must be the plot trigger,” RNGesus said under his breath.
Carefully, he stepped forward and pried the slate free.
“Sorry, bro. I really don’t mean any disrespect.”
No trap triggered. No corpse reanimation.
Relief.
The dataslate activated.
Lines of text appeared.
📜 Chapter Master Log — Martyr’s Chapter
“Three months ago, when we entered the Warp, we never imagined it would be our last voyage.”
“My name is Hobbes Rotzpe, Chapter Master of the Martyr’s Chapter, a successor of the Ultramarines. This is the final record of the Martyrs.”
“We believed the Warp could be traversed—if one remained vigilant, cautious, observant.”
“That belief was wrong.”
“The Warp is not a frontier. It is not controllable. It is a joke carved into reality by an unknowable entity.”
“…Are you really a successor Chapter of the Ultramarines?” RNGesus muttered. “This is way too emotional. Where are the tables? The data? The rigorous analysis?”
“We encountered a sudden Warp storm. Neither Librarians nor Navigators foresaw it.”
“We were like a ship struck by an impossible wave.”
“The Gellar field collapsed.”
“Warp entities breached the hull.”
“Captain Kallen ordered psyker rotation like changing a dead battery—”
“Wait, that’s a human life—”
RNGesus winced. “This is too casual…”
“We fought. When bullets ran out, we used blades. When blades broke, fists. When bones broke—teeth.”
“No Martyr feared death.”
“We believed: if the universe is unjust, then at least death is equal for all.”
RNGesus paused.
“…Okay, that part is kind of hardcore.”
“I fear not death,” the log continued, “but the beauty we created—art, memory, meaning—lost forever in this catastrophe.”
“…Alright, that actually got me a bit…”
“You are NOT Ultramarines! Absolutely not! You were laughing while cutting us down days ago—give me back my emotions!”
RNGesus blinked.
“…Huh?”
“If you read this, carry our name forward. Three steps to your left—you will find our gene-seed.”
RNGesus looked.
Collapsed pillars. Shattered glass. Unknown fluids.
Nothing intact.
“…It’s all gone.”
“Hail the Emperor.”
Silence.
RNGesus returned the dataslate to the Chapter Master’s hands.
“…Your luck is absurd. Almost on par with those wiped-out Orks and bugs blessed by the god dice…”
He froze.
“…Wait.”
A realization struck him.
“Did I… cause this?”
He quickly shook his head.
“No. The timeline doesn’t match.”
He nodded, convincing himself.
“They entered the Warp three months ago. My incident was only hours ago. They were already doomed.”
“That’s right. Just bad timing.”
He exhaled.
Feeling slightly better, he bowed his head.
“Rest in peace, Hobbes. I’ll report this properly… and maybe give you a real burial.”