The Empire designed Vigilus Planet's defense system to be impenetrable. It serves as both an outpost and a strategic springboard for further expeditions. Various Adeptus Mechanicus and Astra Militarum regiments use it as a second line of defense against the Chaos forces spilling out from the Cadian Gate.
Its unique position makes this world a key asset for the Imperium—one that must be defended at all costs, and one that Chaos seeks to claim.
The few areas suitable for development have long since been overrun with expansion. Industrial zones, sprawling like uncontrolled wild growth, now form a hive-like network that resembles continental plates.
Abandoned mines scar the land, remnants of over-exploitation and greed.
Vigilus was once just another world in the Segmentum Obscurus, producing manpower and weapons for the Imperium. Now, however, it mainly focuses on a highly specialized defensive technology. The Adeptus Mechanicus discovered a force field STC, powered by psychic technology, on this planet. This technology was swiftly approved by the Archmagos of Mars and pushed into mass production.
The reliable psychic-powered force field quickly became a crucial asset to the Imperium. It was purchased by planetary governors far and wide, establishing itself as a crucial defensive shield for many worlds.
Officially, Vigilus is governed by the planetary lord Lucian Agamenus IX.
But this is the past. Under the guidance of the Primarchs, new reforms swept across the Imperium from Terra. New communication systems, planetary jump technology, and bureaucratic changes all took hold.
The shift was swift, even reaching the far-flung Sentinel Planet, tens of thousands of light-years from Terra.
In mere years, Agamenus IX was stripped of his title and power, replaced by new officials sent by the Ministry of Administration. The Agamenus family's influence withered as bureaucrats from Terra slowly, but surely, consolidated control of the planet.
The nobility of Vigilus, once proud and powerful, seethed with fury, but they were powerless to resist. No one dared openly oppose the reforms issued by the Primarchs. After all, no one would openly defy the Emperor himself.
The Primarchs made it clear they were watching Vigilus closely. The Void Order priests, Inquisitors of the Lionheart, Assassins' Court operatives, and even the Scarlet Star Talkers all arrived on the planet, ensuring the implementation of these reforms.
The priests of the Void Order kindly reminded the planet's elites that, should they fail to heed the Emperor's holy words, the Emperor's servants were more than capable of using force if needed.
Despite the reforms benefiting the populace and improving life for the people of Vigilus, their hearts were gripped by an ever-deepening fear. As the galactic rift tore the fabric of the universe itself, the people of Vigilus grew increasingly terrified of the doomsday they feared was coming.
Many citizens were plagued by disturbing nightmares, their minds haunted by horrors during their sleep. The strain from sleepless nights, mixed with mounting panic, soon spread throughout the population.
The situation grew even worse when an Ork horde, lost in the warp storm, was rescued and guided by the Ork god Dugo to this planet.
Although the Ork weapons appeared hastily assembled, they displayed remarkable combat potential. Within a month, the Orks had swept across all regions of Vigilus, except for the human hive.
In the planet's wastelands, the toxic dust, capable of killing a man within hours, and the deadly, armored beasts seemed to have no effect on the Ork invaders.
The Imperial Navy and the local Planetary Defense Force responded swiftly, hoping to expel the greenskins. However, after a brief engagement, it was clear that the Orks were a force to be reckoned with.
Desperate, the Imperial Navy Admiral sent a request for reinforcements from the Military Affairs Department. To his dismay, not only were reinforcements withheld, but he was also ordered to ignore the Orks entirely.
With the situation growing grim, and the Ork tide threatening to overwhelm them, the Imperial forces were stunned by an unexpected development. The Orks, rather than initiating full-scale war, simply settled peacefully in the wilderness of Vigilus, showing no signs of hostility toward the Imperium.
This completely shattered the Imperial Navy's preconceived notions about the Orks.
A strange mixture of panic and relief filled the ranks of the Imperial Navy. Soon, Ork fortresses began springing up across the wasteland, and even a massive Ork city rose upon the plains.
It seemed the Orks were here to stay—to breed, grow, and thrive on this planet.
In less than a month, the wilderness became a chaotic sea of greenskin life, with the ever-present roar of "WAAAGH!" echoing across the land. The clash of metal and the thundering sound of supercharged guns rang out day and night.
Ork warbosses and techboys crafted gigantic machines, some even resembling the Dugo King Kong—a behemoth with heavy wheels and blood-patterned paint that thundered across the plains like a Titan.
Despite their rapid expansion, the military, government officials, and even the priests of the state religion seemed to look the other way as the Orks grew wild in the wasteland.
In response, some of the Adeptus Mechanicus' technical bishops increased the power of their fortress shields, while continuing their work extracting "black minerals" from the planet's depths.
However, some daring merchants discovered a curious development. After a few attempts, they found that their caravans could actually travel through the wilderness.
Once, the wastes of Vigilus were filled with poisonous dust, terrifying beasts, and occasional incursions from daemons and dark eldar.
But now, under the protection of the Orks, the entire wilderness had turned into a place of green. Whether in the mountains or on the plains, Ork presence was overwhelming.
Merchants, who paid a "protection fee" to the Ork bosses, found themselves able to travel safely under the guard of Ork "boys," opening up a stable, albeit unconventional, trade route across the wastelands.
With the growing circulation of caravans, the commercial market on Vigilus, especially around Alert Star, suddenly flourished.
But no matter how law-abiding the Orks were, their presence was bound to cause panic among the population.
Many citizens, already inclined to believe in apocalyptic theories, were easily swayed by underground cults and conspirators. This led to the birth of countless riots and uprisings across Vigilus.
Civilian unrest grew rampant in the hive cities, where a faction known as the Twisted Dragon, led by a self-proclaimed prophet, launched a brutal raid.
At the same time, strange symbols and writings—often from madmen and those who believed to have made supernatural connections with powerful entities—began appearing across the planet. These were not just the ramblings of the insane; they seemed to hold an uncanny power.
What was even more disturbing was that these phenomena started to manifest in reality.
The unsettling images of rifts in paintings began to glow with a malevolent light that refused to fade like natural illumination.
Citizens were horrified to find large cracks appearing on the bodies of newborns, with vivid red scars marking their once flawless skin.
Crops, too, began to fall in unnatural patterns, as if something was twisting the very fabric of nature.
As the riots escalated, the situation teetered on the edge of total collapse.
In response, both the Planetary Defense Forces and the Ecclesiarchy were mobilized to restore order, deploying with ruthless efficiency and fervent zeal.
Yet, some soldiers grew resentful. If they could not push back the Orks from the mountains, how could they suppress the rebellion within the hives?
To prove their loyalty to the Golden Throne, the Prophet of the Twisted Dragon was apprehended, and the priests revealed to the masses that he was a Gene Stealer in disguise, the revelation echoing through the air as hymns were sung in reverence.
Behind many of the rebellious factions were Chaos cultists, though it became evident that the spark of rebellion could not be extinguished merely by executing its leaders. Subtle manipulations from the Warp ensured that the seeds of chaos would continue to grow.
Civilian uprisings flared up constantly across the hives, and the Dark Eldar took advantage of the turmoil. Amid the chaos, they abducted countless humans, using them as slaves and playthings, leaving a trail of bloodshed in their wake.
The fate of the planet's citizens hung by a thread, as each victory was tempered by the fall of another sector. The people prayed for a miracle, hoping for something to break the deadlock.
But the arrival of the Orks, Gene Stealers, and Dark Eldar was only the beginning. At the height of this conflict, the forces of Chaos made their grand entrance.
The Ecclesiarchy's investigation into the source of the unrest soon uncovered horrific discoveries.
On the towering Gothic spires, blasphemous messages were scrawled in blood, all pointing to the same harrowing figure.
It was clear now: most of the current chaos on Vigilus was being orchestrated by a brutal agent of destruction—the harbinger of the Demon Alliance, Harkonn the Worldreaver.
When Harkonn's voice rang out across the planet, the true horror was revealed. The dark lord proclaimed that disaster was imminent—Vigilus would become a purgatory, and all who remained would have their organs turned to blood.
His ominous words spread across the planet, carried by millions of infected broadcast devices. The result was a unified, horrifying message: this world belonged to the great plunderer, Abaddon, and the Warmaster would soon arrive to conquer all.
As the veil between reality and the Warp began to warp, Chaos warships, exuding corrupt, blasphemous auras, leapt from the immaterium, emerging into the planetary system's orbital belt.
The ships were grotesque, covered in bones, decaying flesh, and dark, shifting shadows. The fleet was vast, and the blood-red eyes of the vessels gleamed with malicious intent, watching the void with a predatory stare. Their vertical pupils, like those of a ravenous beast, sent chills down the spine.
This fleet belonged to Harkonn the Worldreaver. He had made his pledge of doom, and now he had come to fulfill it.
Harkonn was the voice of Abaddon, the Dark Warmaster, and even among the Chaos legions, his status was formidable. He commanded a massive force, burning world after world in Abaddon's name.
As Abaddon's vanguard, Harkonn sowed chaos, fear, and rebellion in the Imperium's ranks, weakening defenses and instigating treachery wherever he went.
"Soon, my lord, this vital world will become your next trophy," said Captain Chaos, lavishing praise on the Worldreaver.
To the forces of the Demon Alliance, Vigilus seemed weak. The Planetary Defense Forces had been overwhelmed by the riots, and the Orks, of all things, were left unchallenged.
The planet's only real defense was its shielded fortresses, but even that would not hold indefinitely.
If the Iron Hands had not arrived in time, it was certain that Vigilus would have already fallen to Lord Abaddon.
Soon, the vast demon fleet encircled the outer orbit of Vigilus, known as Warning Star.
Their arrival ignited jubilation among the Chaos warbands and cultists already wreaking havoc across the planet.
The unexpected arrival of the Iron Hands had disrupted the Worldreaver's plans, delaying his efforts to intimidate the planet into submission.
However, reports from the warbands indicated that more and more regiments from the Imperium were arriving in the system, forming a sizable resistance.
Realizing that terror alone would not bring the world to heel, Harkonn, the Worldreaver, decided that he would have to take the planet by force.
With a cruel smile, the Worldreaver turned his gaze to the scattered Ork forces on the planet's surface.
He couldn't fathom what had happened here. In his mind, these greenskins had only added to the Empire's struggles, and their presence could only have weakened the Imperial forces further.
A mere Ork infestation? It hardly mattered.
The age of the Primarchs was over.
Now, it was the era of the great Warmaster Abaddon.
"Deploy the drop pods!" Harkonn bellowed. "Let these mortals who defy the will of the great Reaver taste the fruits of their rebellion. The world shall burn in war— for the Dark God, for the invincible Warmaster!"
His voice rang out, met with a bloodthirsty chorus of responses from the demons and fallen warriors who answered his call.
Under the dark and twisted control of the Dark Mechanicum, the Hell Claws began to deploy, and the airborne assault was set in motion.
Millions of tainted meteorites fell from the heavens, raining down like a storm of destruction.
The human fortresses' psychic shields still held, preventing the drops from reaching the cities directly. Instead, they slammed into the barren wilderness, sending shockwaves through the land.
The earth trembled under the weight of the impact, a deafening roar echoing as massive buildings crumbled in the wake of the assault. Amid the chaos, the distant roar of Orks could be heard, their war cries rising from the depths of the turmoil.
"Ha!"
As the Hell Claws opened, the air valves hissed, releasing the pressure and unleashing the first wave of the assault.
Fallen warriors, clad in spiked armor and adorned with blasphemous skulls, charged forward, their weapons ready to cut down all in their path.
Behind them, unclean demons followed, their bloodthirsty grins evident as they closed in on the human fortresses.
The Worldreaver, stepping from the infernal army, issued his ultimatum to the entire planet.
"By the will of Abaddon, Warmaster of Chaos, this world belongs to the Reaver of All Worlds. Kneel before him, or perish in the flames of war."
But as his declaration reverberated through the cosmos, something strange happened.
The Worldreaver paused, sensing something unsettling beneath his feet. The planet seemed to tremble as if vast beasts were charging across its surface. While the creatures' strides were scattered, the combined force of their movement caused the ground to shake.
The Black Legion's reconnaissance equipment began to pick up strange and abnormal signals, confirming something that made the Worldreaver's heart sink.
In the vast and rugged terrain of Vigilus, particularly in the basin-shaped wastelands between the fortresses and the abandoned mining caves, something unimaginable was occurring.
A green tide surged from every corner.
The Worldreaver stared, slack-jawed, as these greenskins amassed into a great sea of Orks, flooding across the landscape in overwhelming numbers.
It was impossible to calculate the scale of this army. Was it hundreds of billions? Trillions? The Worldreaver could not even fathom such a number.
But one thing became abundantly clear.
They, the vanguard of the Black Crusade, had been utterly surrounded by a vast, unrelenting ocean of Orks.
...
T.N:
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