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Hey All, I am a new user. I have been writing a Warhammer 40k Fanfiction and would love to hear what others think. With out further ado, here is the first chapter of Oh God, I Woke Up in Warhammer 40k: Ajax passed beyond the veil of the world fitfully and with many regrets. His journey had come to an end. Now he was going to discover the answer to the question that had plagued humanity since they first gained the capacity to wonder: What, if anything, comes after death? Ajax found himself in a void composed of a darkness that defied description — a darkness so black that black would appear white by contrast. Empty and formless. Vast yet finite. Deep and shallow. His thoughts began to wander as he considered where he had arrived. Was this death? Was this the end that humanity had wondered about since time immemorial? Where had his body gone? Would he spend eternity in this void? These thoughts came unbidden to Ajax’s mind, but as he pondered his current circumstances, he began to smell cooking meat. At first, he didn’t register where it was coming from. He couldn’t see his body — not even his nose. Yet Ajax realized that the smell was coming from the cooking of his own invisible flesh. Ajax began to scream.To him, it felt as though a flame was creeping up his body, roasting his feet, then his legs, and the rest of him after that. There was a sick horror in being able to feel the flesh cooking off your legs, yet being unable to see the flames — a horror that drove Ajax into even higher peaks of panic. He could feel the fire cooking his testicles until they exploded from the heat. As his eyeballs melted out of his non-existent skull, he realized his non-corporeal body wasn’t the only thing that had burst into flame. His soul had caught fire. Ajax screamed a garbled wail through the melting mass of his vocal cords as the very concept of himself began to go up in flames. He screamed for it to stop. He screamed for someone to put him out of his misery. But there was no one to hear his screams. Ajax had received an answer to a philosophical question he’d never wanted answered: If no one is around to hear, does a soul scream in its final conflagration? Yes. Yes, it does. Ajax was screaming in some metaphysical sense as everything that made him who he was began to burn away. His likes. His dislikes. The memories of every time he had ever failed. All of it — and so much more — began to turn to ash and float away. If he still had vocal cords, they would have long since given out. The pain was all-consuming. He could feel the memories ebbing from his consciousness, replaced with only fire. The past and future burned away, and Ajax was left with only this unending present. More and more memories burned, leaving “Ajax” increasingly hollow. A person was said by some to be the sum of their experiences. When all experience was burned away, what remained? Ajax was awash in pain, but he was also terrified by this thought. Even though the fear quickly lit aflame and began to burn away, new fear bubbled up from the deepest core of Ajax. He did not want to find out what was at his core. He had loathed himself for as long as he could remember. He didn’t want to see what he was when everything else was stripped away. He didn’t want to see the ugly sludge at the bottom of the barrel after all the good had been poured out. Most importantly, he did not want to lose the precious memories of his mother and brother. Ajax screamed again — but instead of sheer terror, he screamed in defiance at the fire trying to take the only good parts of him away. He screamed, pushing the memories deeper and deeper within himself, sacrificing more to the flames to save them. If it was his last act, he would save those memories to burn only after the rest of him had turned to ash. Ajax didn’t know how long he screamed defiance into the fiery void. He became a singular existence with one function: sacrificially burning itself to prevent destruction. Time held no meaning in that conceptual realm. Then, all of a sudden, it stopped. Everything stopped.The roaring inferno gave way to blessed silence. The aftershocks of pain ebbed away. A deep sense of refreshment enveloped Ajax. To him, it felt like he was a burn victim being submerged in a pool of cool aloe vera. His aches and pains were slowly pulled from his body. “Wait. My body? I thought I was dead?” Ajax opened his eyes and looked down to find himself in a body he did not recognize. The body was much leaner than he’d been in his first life. He had some muscle, but it was clear he wasn’t some sort of bodybuilder. He looked like someone shaped by a hard life where food hadn’t always been easy to find. His hands had scars from what looked like blade cuts. There was a big, round wound-scar on one of his forearms. Odd — it was much larger than a bullet hole and seemed like a cross between a gunshot and a burn. He couldn’t see much more in the dim light. His torso was bare — the night was hot — and he had been sweating into the cot he’d been lying on. He was wearing drab green fatigue pants that had seen better days but could have belonged to any number of militaries across many periods of time. Ajax sat up and looked around the tent he had woken up in. It was mostly dark, with some light from the night sky filtering through the partially opened tent flap. He could hear voices in the distance now and again. People. Vehicles. Movement. It was a fair deduction that he’d found himself in an army camp somewhere. Most likely not in enemy territory — not with how noisy it was after dark. If they were near the front, the sound would have drawn enemy combatants like flies to a carcass. Unless the army Ajax had transmigrated into was completely inept, they were probably in a relatively safe location that didn’t require strict noise and light discipline. “That really doesn’t narrow down where — or when — I am.” Ajax felt around the tent for some kind of lamp. He needed to check the items inside and look for clues. “Actually... why the hell am I so calm? Under these circumstances, I should be having a full-blown panic attack.” He closed his eyes and took a four-count breath — a habit he’d used to calm himself in his past life. “I remember the fire. Everything besides the heat and pain is kind of drowned out by comparison. It feels like when a camera is exposed to a really bright light and everything else goes dark because it can’t handle the contrast... I guess I’ll worry about my emotions returning once I figure out where I am.” His hand brushed against smooth glass. A lamp. He fumbled for a switch, found it, and clicked it on. Light filled the tent. Ajax winced as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. Then his gaze was drawn to a glint of metal — a uniform hanging from a stand. Three pieces of gear stood out: a cuirass with a twin-headed gold eagle in the center, a long black greatcoat with red and gold epaulets, and a peaked officer’s cap with a gold skull motif. Ajax froze. Slowly, he lowered his head to examine his chest, praying he wouldn’t see what he feared.Above his heart: the tattoo of the Imperial Aquila. The same double-headed eagle inlaid into the breastplate. He looked around. Next to his cot was a belt with a holstered bolt pistol and chainsword. “:cuss:. I got reincarnated into the darkest fictional universe possible. A universe where there is only war. A universe with literal demon gods thirsting for mankind’s souls. Where aliens are running rampant, murdering each other and humanity. Where humanity has become the unholy love child of the worst possible totalitarian regime and theocratic state imaginable. Where techno-monkeys exist. :cuss:. What did I do to deserve this fate?!” --- [Welcome to the Grimdark Future] [You have been chosen to suffer a fate worse than death. You must save the Imperium of Man.] [You have been made a Perpetual and have been gifted the Anathema System.] [In the grimdark future, there is no hope for Mankind.] [There is only the laughter of thirsting gods.] [You are the last-ditch effort of a mad god to reignite hope in this new, dark millennium.] [You will know no peace.] [You will know no rest.] [You exist to break the rules of the Great Game.] [You must flip the board.] --- Ajax was silent. He could feel his heart pounding. Blood rushed through his veins. A loud ringing echoed in his ears. The weight of the words felt like it was crushing the air out of his chest. He reached for the belt, unholstered the bolt pistol, put the barrel in his mouth — and pulled the trigger. BANG.