Author's Note

Please note there will be 6 chapters to set the story before we begin with story 1, the Inquisitor. Wait for his story first or skip there now if it's already up and you wish to indulge in none of the setting but learn as you go.

Setting 1: Pinkie's Pit of Nothing

Clopper Kurtz walked down the cold abyssally dark halls. The world of Pinkamenia's cult left no room for brightness or color; only the soul crushing black emptiness. Ponies eyes adjusted the longer you were one with the Mare of Nothingness. Clopper Kurtz could tell which coltists were recent and which ones had been here for centuries. In the eyes of new recruits, the expendables ones, you could make out the white in their eyes still. Those that had been with the abyss long enough

had completely darkened black pupils. Those that had achieved some status of recognition; you could see the great twinkle of Pinkamenia's plan within them.

There were no statues or tributes to Pinkamenia's nothingness; only the cold darkness of an empty hallway. Here within the heart of nothing, a mare was alone in the void until they sought one another in the darkness, as Clopper Kurtz sought out the Sorcerer now.

The mare walked towards the altar, a single light shining down upon them, finally illuminating where they stood. Diacoltus Daniegh stood from his prayer and turned to his sister of destruction, his champion of Pinkamenia's coming darkness. “Yes sister?” He asked.

Now that they were within the light, all of the cult could see the two ponies. They stood there half white and half black split down the middle by a solid line of sweet pastel pink. Their power armor clanged as they approached each other in the void; echoing off the centuries of pure despair. Their eyes were solid black with the slight glimmer of white and a dot of pink. Looking there you could see the grand design of the great abyssal one; a pony could get lost in those eyes and never return. Unlike other chaos armys of Coltists, Champions, and Believers that adored their armor with glyphs, spikes, skulls, colors, and insignias; the cult of Pinkamenia had nothing. Pinkimenia's power armored suits are simple; white to their left, black to their right, and a single stripe of pink separating the two. Their armor held no symbols, no trim, no distinctiveness. Even for her greatest champions there was no prideful embellishment. You simply knew who they were. Even if you knew nothing of Pinkimenia's Colts you knew one thing, who their champions were just before they tore you from existence.

Of all the pony kind, of all the mares of chaos and the stallions of woe; Pinkamenia's forces were the ones you wanted to look upon the least. Even the simple act of seeing them drove colts mad. An illness called Pinkamania would possess the minds of those whom saw their flanks; something that only the strongest of willed ponies could resist and many would simply end their existence rather than face.

“My brother, since we were foals, we have followed Pinkamenia's path and been guided towards the ultimate goal. I believe it is time, for pinkamenia's presence to return to the galaxy once again.” Clopper Kurtz replied with a voice that caused the skin of her brother to receive a single cut across its cheek. Her voice itself an instrument of annihilation.

“What do the scriptures read?” Diacoltus Daniegh said with a coldness that frost bits of the air before his muzzle. An ancient book appeared within his hoof and he slowly opened it. The pain of his bleeding cheek nothing he was concerned about as it meant that Pinkamenia's blessing was in the room. He opened the book and it fell to the last page that was written in. The way of Pinkamenia displaying her will; never completing the book always just leaving a passage to add to the hallowed tome. The text was written in the black blood of the great empty nothing that spanned across the end of the universe.

“...and the mare that went before now came last, and that which was white and black and all direction was thrown against itself forming a purest pink light. Grown mightily indignant at the words of the Gods, Pinkamenia did turn her heart against them and no pony looked to Pinkamenia now, save those that serve that which they hate, who smile upon their misfortune, and who bear no love save for that of the most damned and those lost to the greatest of despair. At such times as a warrior's heart turns to Pinkamenia, all Gods of Chaos grow fearful and laughter is all you can hear in the great abyssal nothingness that drifts between life and death. Let Pinkamenia come back and let despair reign once again.....”

The two ponies looked at each and stared into the great darkness of the end mare's plan within their eyes. Then they slowly started to giggle, before finally breaking into laughter that rose higher and higher till a cackle echoed throughout the world. It is said that as that cackle was heard across the rift into the world of real space; thousands of ponies contracted Pinkamania and millions died as an entire system seemed to just disappear into the warp storms of Ponehammer 40K as 40.999 turned to 41.000.