The God-Emperor of Mankind.

Suddenly Travolta slammed his hand on the table. “YOU CAN’T BE FUCKING SERIOUS!” He screamed and slammed his hand down a second time. Both times the table was pushed several centimetres to the left. Regan kept starring, unmoved by Travolta’s rage. “You know damn well that I am. The Emperor did nothing wrong when he raged at Magnus when the foolish psyker broke into the webway.” “Are you listening to yourself Regan? Magnus tried to WARN him.” “Did the Emperor know that?” Regan asked. “He could pretty damn well have if he fucking listened for a second instead of being so fucking pissed at his own son! The whole Horus Heresy could have ended in a minor catastrophe instead of the shitfest it became!”

“Well, if it didn’t we wouldn’t have the story of 40k now would we?” Regan countered. “So you admit it is shitty writing?” Travolta asked, “Simply put in to make end meet instead of logic?” “I admit that the Emperor was tinkering with the Golden Throne for an absurd amount of time just for Magnus to ruin everything in a second. Traitor bastard can go to hell…OH WAIT HE ALREADY IS!” Regan finally broke his motionless and slammed his hand on the table as well. As the two kept shouting at each other, the topic eventually changing to the other Primarchs, Rave asked John “What are they on about?”

“See, there is this universe called Warhammer 40k which represents a grimdark future of humanity where we are ruled by the immortal psyker the God-Emperor, who revealed himself in the thirtieth millennium. He needed to do that after the Golden Age of Technology collapsed in order to guide humanity towards a better future. After unifying the desolate nuclear waste of Earth, or Terra as it was now called, he created 20 Primarchs, super-humans with near godlike abilities, from his own genes. These were however scattered throughout the galaxy by the ruinous powers known as Slaneesh, Nurgle, Tzeentch and Khorne. As he went on his galaxy wide crusade he also wanted to find his sons who were to command the elite **** of his army: The Space-Marines, super-soldiers made from the primarchs genes. The first he found was Horus Lupercal, Primarch of the Lunar Wolves. With his help the Empe-“ “Okay, okay, stop.” Rave laughed. “What the hell. You are getting way to into this.”

John cleared his throat. He didn’t get a lot of chances to nerd out about 40K. As he watched the two men bicker he started to form a plot to get his girlfriend hooked on the lore as well so they could have discussions like this. Did that mean he wanted to get on the same level of closeness that Travolta and Rave’s dad had? The thought was embarrassing and scary.

“Long story short: It is a complicated sci-fi universe where people throw insanely overpriced plastic miniatures at each other.” John summarized what was supposed to be a three page rant in a single sentence. Rave’s expression went blank. “Oh. So that is that stupid game. I give you a tip for the future: Unless you want to turn me into desert down there never speak of it.”

And there went his plans for the future. Maybe he could get her hooked-on Warcraft Lore instead? It was a lot simpler but still discussion worthy. “And that is why the Ultramarines could beat an army of Custodes when they fought Chapter versus Chapter.” Regan closed another one of his many, many statements. “Oh hell no!” John had to intervene. Heads flew around as Travolta and Regan finally took notice of them. “The Custodes are the Emperors personal bodyguard and superior to Space-Marines in every single way. Without their Primarch the Ultramarines could never hope to win against them.” “Finally some fucking sense!” Travolta growled. “You are forgetting that the Space-Marines are group based forces while Custodes fight individually. In an engagement the Ultramarines are sure to have the upper hand.”

“You seem to forget that Custodes are not only highly trained soldiers but assassins as well. They would simply find the enemy Chapter Master and dispose of him as well as his stand-ins within an hour. As great as the Ultramarines are they are nothing without a command structure against the individual skills of the Custodes.” John’s counter-argument was supported by Travolta, who added. “The Custodes also have millennia of experience while the Ultramarines only follow the Codex Astartes. They have no chance.”

Regan clenched his teeth so hard that his lips turned white. “Jane, I don’t think I approved of your relationship with this young man.” “Yeah, well, I am regretting my choice to date him right now.” She admitted as she transformed into her pink-haired true form. “”You are WHAT?”” Regan and John asked at the same moment, causing them to look at each other for a moment. “You are dating my daughter?” Regan asked with disbelief. “Ehm. Yes?” John turned to his for-the-moment-still girlfriend who was laughing. “Hurray, different topic.” She said and went to attach herself to John’s arm left. “So, dad, I have a boyfriend. Great news, right?”

John had held hands and all that with her in public before but doing it in front of Regan was still fairly embarrassing so he turned red. “Well, I haven’t seen it in the newspapers.” Regan said, trying his best at a dad joke while also being baffled. “So, are you two…after only two weeks…” He mumbled. “Actually, it was barely one…” John admitted in a similar mumble.

“Are you calling my daughter easy, young man?” He got a stern question. “No, I mean yes? I mean…we just had a pretty…Rave-mantic moment?” Silence. Rave giggled. Her father burst out in full on laughter. “A Rave-mantic moment you say? What a great pun, yes, okay. Well.” Suddenly his tone got very serious. “I will hear all about it. Right now.” He pointed at his daughter from “From you. John, leave the room.”

“Dad!” Rave wanted to stop him. “No complaining young lady. We will speak this out like a family. Actually, Travolta you go as well.” “Sure, thing Regan.” Travolta had no wish whatsoever to be part of this and when he opened the door he pulled John out with him. “Wait, what is happening right now?” He asked as he was forcefully detached from Rave. “John, I think my dad has snapped!” was the last thing he heard before the door closed.

Travolta dragged him all the way out of the building. They left the Illusion Barrier and then went back in front of the shop, where the not at all gentle giant lighted himself a cigarette. “Thanks for being reasonable down there, kiddo.” He said as he blew smoke into the air. “Regan is always ‘Emperor here, Emperor that’ but at the same time thinks the Custodes are complete garbage just because an Eldar managed to kill a few back in the Beast Arises….” “Which we all know is garbage.” John added. “Yes, fucking that.” Travolta grumbled and pulled out his phone. “Well, I will tell you when Regan allows us back inside. No idea what you will be doing but I have to plan how I will deal with his fucking Blood Ravens with my Necrons so kindly bugger off.”

That sounded about the nicest non-nice way to not bother him he had ever heard Travolta say. John used Observe on Travolta on his way back into the shop.

He had only gotten stronger. The effects were still there but from what John noticed nothing had changed. Rave hadn’t said anything about his behaviour either so he could safely assume that nothing was off. Still, Bloodaddict was simply no title that somebody with a healthy lifestyle got. Or was it? This whole Abyss business was pretty confusing after all.

PS: Props to Crimark for the Rave-Mance pun.