Ambience link of this chapter will be within Nurgles Realm within The Garden of Blight. all thanks to "Music of 40K" on youtube go give them the proper majority credit and enjoy the chapter. - end of author bloop

"Forget no insults my sons, as I have never forgotten those of my father, of the emperor nor those of Horus. Forgive no slight or grievance, hold your bitterness deep within, and there let it fester. Let it roil, and squirm, and churn; until you are so filled with bile, so poisonous that all you touch falls to ruin.

Thus shall you serve Nurgle best.

Thus shall you spread his Virulent gifts, across the falls Imperium and watch its final rotting.

— Daemon Prince of Nurgle, Mortarion.

In the Realm of Chaos, Far deep within the eye of terror, the home to one of four chaos domains, Nurgle rests within the realm of Chaos of the warp, the Lands of the Plaguelord, often known as the "Garden of Nurgle." This is no typical garden, or perhaps even a garden at all, but a world traped within the warp and touched by Nurgle's hand to become a blossoming garden of sickly puss and rot. What little of the mortal mind contemplating the PlagueLord's manifested will. Attempting to try and make any sense out of what they have seen, heard, or even witnessed in only whispered tales spread by rumors or chanting's of rituals. They must place it in a relatable context that they can consider without their own minds lost to insanity.

Very few mortals have beheld the Garden of Nurgle or of his realm. Its swamplands constantly wheeze a fog of incredibly new and powerful supernatural diseases; living beings cannot endure so much as a breath of its repugnant air. Either without their skin breaking out into rashes, growing pus-filled warts, or bloating with decaying mucus or within their bodies suffering rupturing organs and only to fall with crawling chills on their bodies like roaches to a corpse and fevers of high blazing heat. Only Nurgle himself can spare visitors from his Garden's toxic affections, welcomed or unknown to him; when he is expecting company, he will open a path through the gurgling fungus fronds with only a single magnanimous gesture as open arms.

But within the great grandfather's Garden severs one of his many corrupted fallen angels that betrayed the imperium and the god-like emperor of man, once a proud warrior and astartes soldier, armored in the once great holy power armor, now only rusted through time and plagued by crawling rust. His armor contorted with pieces either broken or missing plating, exposing his bloated infected flesh giving him barely a vague shape of what little left of human he was, with maggots crawling under his decaying skin. Eating away the muscle and pale, sickly green flesh that stretched out and infused with his armor of the mark: III "Iron" variant of space marine armor, his flesh molded merging to fill the broken and missing armor plates forming skin of iron and leathery texture with eyes, mouths, tendrils and horrors of body mutation by disease to fill act as armor. The Maggots that grew into flies buzzing around and through his body and under his armor, even having him simply cough a cloud of the buzzing flies of Nurgle, feeling his lungs become their hive nest. He remembers his primarch, Mortarion, once an extraordinary being and son of the false god emperor forever bonded to the golden throne, and his descent to become a great Demon prince of the great grandfather, Nurgle. He doesn't remember his name and could barely remember little of his chapter's origins; the Death Guard was his chapter, his legion, his life.

Many of his older battle brothers, some even dating back to the ends of the Horus Heresy or new young sporeling battle brothers, called or even knew of him as "Allomere, of the Favored sons." He wasn't sure if that was his name or not. Still, it mattered little to this Death Guard as he walked through the long and sickly repugnant Garden fields, once grassy plains now with trees of decaying flesh and the sounds of groaning that were carried through the wind, each step sinking into the mucus-rotted mud sinking his legs to skin up to his knees, each step slowed and letting the very mush of the slush and muck. Flow into his legs armor, heaving his body and slowing his walk, he was enlightened by this, wheezing and coughs came from him with his arms holding his age rusted, mucus smeared stained bolter. He was lost yet felt home to having been blessed to being within the great unclean ones realm and patrolling within the gardens of his land, granting his body to welcome his lord "gifts." Better his body from slow or rapid mutations of rashes and grows of new limbs, organs and more resilience to pain, bone antlers sprouted across his body with eyes and mouths opening up and wheezing on his exposed toughen flesh, all for his service and worship to the plague lord. He looked upon the horizon gazing at the warp green rotted skies to see the very rotting, decaying realm of the Plague Lord holding up both arms once again praising his dark rotting chaos god.

"My fate of life... my life, iss yours... Nurgle... grant me your gifts... let mee show you my power." He says in wheezing gargling tone ending by a heavy cough, coughing out mucus with maggots and his rotted blood dripping from his mouth and onto his armor. An impish giggle was heard drawing his attention to see a Nurgling giggling as it rolled its fat round body over the mud and onto his leg, he looks down at it lesser demon, amazed seeing the very being of Nurgle himself approach him.

"It seems he choices yoou... to be hiss herald and spread his blesssed gifts...brother."

A voice was heard, followed by the sound of slow metallic steps followed by a wooden tap that tapped in a rhythmic pattern; Allomere slowly turned to see a Death Guard Sorcerer, a Malignant Plague-Caster. He wore a purple hood as his face with warts and puss-filled and looked bloated with rashes. His armor was the same variant as Allomere's but bared a different color instead of the rusted brown trim and rotted green pallet; it was palleted in a stained dirty yellow and a vomit green trim that was rough as his voice and showed him for his age with every word and breath he spoke wheezed. His body was large and fatten by disease and bloat; his torso's armor plate was broken in place was a gaped hole to the sight of intestines poured out by gapping mouth. Clouds of millions of flies emitted from the funnels of bone from his back, spewing miasma and the flies of Nurgle's rot flowing in and out of his body and armor. In hand was a long wooden staff topped with an icon of despair and plague bell as it rang as the plague imp Nurgling crackles and giggles its obnoxious giggle.

"Come... we go and spread not his will but his the beauty of what he gifts us to all... expaand out decay and disease... let us join with the our brothers and go forth.... He ssspeaks, do you hear his call?"

Allomere looked down at the Nurgling and thought that to be chosen by the great grandfather was one blessing. Still, to be Herald of him that was rarely given even to a plague marine, but if the plague caster says it was his fate to herald a being of the great unclean one, he could only accept it graciously. He looks to the plague caster and only nods, taking a step to climb out of the mud, walking over it as if hard ground and seeing his plague caster brother hold up his staff at him and his hand holding a green flame in his palm. It combusts and shoots straight at Allomere's chest plate, forcing him to fall on his hands and knees and groan out gargling while of unbearable pain as his body within his armor starts to throb and pulsate with new worts, rashes, and swellings.

"You accept… But first, one must be fitted to bare such a task, and to be Herald of his putridness... your body will do as offering for the great one nicely."

The caster coughs out a chuckle as Allomere's body begins to swell up, cracking his rusted armor and breaking large pieces of it; his right arm swelled, hearing the metal around it crack and break off to see his arm and hand. The rotted crawling, rashes grew and crawled over his with worts growing to swollen his hand, his fingers with every crack of bone and of muscles tearing slowly infused together and swelling in size. The bone punctured and ripped out from his flesh and muscle to form a demonic claw, his torso soon bloated, seeing his flesh poor from the open cracks and gaps infusing with his chest plate with multiple blemishes and puss-filled bloats; his stomach broke free bloated and tore open into a large tooth-filled mouth. It opened wide, vomiting out his Allomere's blood and intestines and letting out a stretching roar combined with whaling cries of agony from Allomere, with three long tendril tongues lashed out of his mouth's stomach. The sound of flesh and bone ripping and crunching of his body seeing funnels breaking through his back ripping through as sounds of buzzing echoed from them only for dark, sickly green poured out. It was a swarm of Nurgle's blight flies flowing out of the boney funnels and swarming his body, flying in and out from the exposed flesh or cracks in his broken flesh-imbued armor, bone antlers breaking through his helmet and, shoulder pad and leg; the metamorphosis of his gifts was finished.

'YO HOLY SHIT! HE FUCKING MORBIN!' - end of author meme

"Now..." The Plaguecaster looked at him with pride with a sick twisted toothy smile as the Nurgling laughed its twisted impish laughter, clapping its two claws together as it sat on Allomere's shoulder plate.

"Speak your name..."

"A-A-Allomere..." He wheezed out as he laid on his hands and knees, as the feeling of pain soon faded away, getting used to his new body's physic and "gifts," wheezing in air filling his fly-infested lungs, taking long slow breaths.

"And your name… little one."

It only giggles, looking at allomere as his body calms to the new gifts at surge within him.

"Nurg… A perfect one as close to the great grandfather himself… Do not disappoint your herald... Allomere."

Looking up at the Plaguecaster that held out a long rusted chipped sword smeared with a green mucus slime coating the blade as the but of its handle baring three circles stacked on each other, the icon of his god, a legendary plague sword.

"Now... Take the blade oof the great grandfather... that is rightful yourss, Blight champion of the Favored Sons."

Allomere slowly raised off his hand and knees to his feet, looking at the blade itself, one of many that lay under the Great One throne to be coated in nothing but his liquid diseases and plagues. It was known that even a simple cut from its tattered chipped, broken blades edge would make even the mightiest of any space marine fall sick beyond any and multiple incurable diseases.

"Now... Go brother chaampion, follow his will and spreaad the gifts he bestowed upon you. You are to join not your brothers but our... Cousinss, of the undivided to this new world... make it hiss putridness's canvas... Champion brother."

The Plaguecaster finished as Allomere, grasping the handle, held it in his right hand, feeling its weight and the sticky mucus slime of the blade and handle only to lift it over his head and roar out, combined with the Nurgling's impish laughter.

You can stop the ambience effect here and play some royalty classic song or something- end of bloop

Grey sat on a work table with various metal parts and small tools that were thrown or grabbed, seeing they were only fit for these ponies' capabilities and size, his tools from his field toolkit mixed with these pony's tools, finally wearing his full Kasrkin Carapace armor, feeling whole with both armor and uniform, even his backpack with the power generator was thankfully intact. What lay on the table was the broken Hellgun from his arrival to Equestria but dismantled with each piece separated from one another in an organized fashion; on the end of the table was his heavy backpack-power generator and his charge packs he used wire and cable cutters to open up both cables from his heavy power pack and the single cable of the Hellgun. Watching him on the other side of the table were both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, watching Grey's hands taking apart the hell gun, from unscrewing the larger pieces for the scope, cutting the cable to expose the wires, and seeing to cut open the two power cables from his power generator exposing the wires and the unknown Hellgun.

He wasn't familiar with taking the time to learn about it so far; it was similar to any standard heavy lasgun but was meant for a left-handed soldier making it completely hard for him to get used to the parts. His irritation grew to the feeling of both princesses' eyes making it harder for him to work; he knew they were studying his weapon intently, probably to understand how to dismantle the Hellgun. At the same time, they keep it in "their watch."

"Celestia, Luna... Is there something you want from me?" He said in an empty tone with a faint hint of anger as he locked his eyes with both alicorns, seeing Celestia be the first to speak.

"We only came to see if you were well, you've been in this room for a couple days, requesting only parts and tools after I granted your processions return. We tried to summon you but only to get no response, so we took it upon ourselves to see if you were well and for the reason for your isolation, have you eaten... or slept at all?"

She said in a tone as if a mother concerned for her child, causing Grey to gently pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh, shaking his head disappointedly as his irritation grew to her care and worries; why would they even care, their both noble rulers of this world and he was just a guardsman, a complete alien let alone a damned sinner, and criminal. Just another number meant to be caged like a beast and sent only to be expected to die and forgotten with millions like him.

"I'm fine; thank you for checking up on me." He said, looking back down to his Hellgun as he did his best to ignore the two sisters' presence form the practice of standing at attention and muffing out sounds or feelings but soon failed with the persistence of the two alicorns.

"We only grow wiry for thee, and it would seem thou haven't taken aid of thy wounds by the element of kindness, the one called Fluttershy, care to share why this is?"

Luna followed surprisingly; her practice of modern Equestria seemed to be on the work. But with time spent with Grey within his dreams and the little time he granted to spend with her and Celestia learning about the world he was stranded in and its history in the faith of finding something of any record of other humans but to only of old days and past wars with other nations and even distant lands, and of creatures thought only to be mythical or of legend. But when she said Fluttershy's name, he looked up at her with a deadpan blank expression.

"One, I'm fine and fit as a warhound mastiff, and second I would rather touch my own body than that xen... pony, called "Fluttershy"… care for me, thank you very much."

He said, feeling a chill up his spine at the mentioning of Fluttershy's name, and tried to focus on continuing to work on the Hellgun, leaving both sisters to look at each other and back at Grey, confused and trying to understand what he meant by that. Looking at the Hellgun, Grey cut open the power cables to expose their wiring, using some pliers to form makeshift three-way wire connections from his power generator from what he knows of basic field maintenance, remembering that every Hellgun usually follows the same pattern design but different power cable links.

"What do you mean by that Grey?" she asked but to no response as Grey started to repair his weapon, causing Celestia to look at Luna for help getting a nod as she looked up at him.

"Grey, does thous have stable meals, being confided by oneself surely cause you to grow famished?"

Luna asks only to see Grey set the cables down and reach into his backpack with one hand, pulling out a small cans one with a strange device on top of it and a few small wrapped packs using his thumb to point at them as he picks up the cables. Celestia and Luna look at the cans reading "Corpse Starch" and a few small bag packages, along with a stranger looking at small bars wrapped in what looked like paper wrappings.

"They taste like shit, but got plenty of theses along with the standard nutrient packs that either have barely any flavor or tastes like dirt and... nevermind."

He Recoils from his thoughts of remembering times when he has seen other guardsmen try to eat Ork and Tyranid meet, remembering why command set the guard meals as a high suggestion of the flavorless packs and corpse starch instead. He looked back at the memory of seeing several young guardsmen's bodies burst open to an Ork Gretchin or three to five Rippers eating away the insides of their bodies and then jumping to others.

'Even though they told you not to do it, you didnt need that kind of death.' He was left to his own thoughts for a moment as he stared aimlessly at the Hellgun.

"Rest in pieces Private Joker" He muttered softly as Celestia's ears flicked to his mumbles.

"What was that Grey?"

"Nothing..."

Grey continued to finish tying the cables, linking them together. He shook his head disappointedly and checked his power generator; the three way cable wire link looked sloppy and could probably offend a Tech-prist, but they were connected to the Hellgun and had what he would pray as a source of power; the three way wire connection had the wires exposed and looked like even a simple nudge on it would break it. A risk of disabling the entire weapon and rendering it useless, all he could now was pray to the machine spirit within it to grant the gun a steady functionality or to grant him a few lucky shots before it dies wrathful and him explodes in his hands.

"So, do you need anything from me or just came to play forty thousand questions again."

Celestia sighed, lowering her head to watch his hand work on his weapon; Luna perked up, levitating the scope from its spot and looking through it, amazed.

"To think thous people could take down another from such afar with ease, can you explain such weapons again?" Luna said, using her magic to adjust the sight of the scope in her magic, amazed at Grey's people's weapons capabilities.

"Luna, you've only seen lasguns fire and what they can do in my damn head." He said teasingly and with a slight smirk.

"Lasguns, or like this hotshot lasgun, "Hellguns" as the guard calls them being a heavier variant, have a standard shot count of, and I think it was a hundred and fifty shots, compared the small pistol variants having eighty or so; but the Hellgun having this here generator hold up to two hundred shots. But as how to they work, it is a simple laser weapon that shoots a beam of super heated light, kinda like how you "magic" using guard shoot but more focused, and when it hits a target, it could vaporize the target in seconds; impressive, yes, and it's capable of blowing off limbs and piercing even the holy armor of his angels." His smirk slowly drops to him, looking at his Hellgun in disappointment and spite; Luna watches, amazed, and recoils at his expressions, with Celestia looking at the weapon as he reassembles it piece by piece.

"If there are at least a hundred or a thousand of them... Yeah, these are what many xenos and even the corrupted fallen angels call the weakest weapons in the known universe, might as well blind them with our flashlights and spit at them." He says, taking the straps of the power generator and backpack and throwing them over his shoulders. Celestia and Luna couldn't believe his words; this weapon capable of piercing armor and vaporizing its targets was the weakest of all his weapons. Her mind can only scratch at the thought that Grey used weapons like these for so long against his people's enemies and would consider them being like bindings by light and needed over a thousand to actually take down an enemy, that surely brought new light and more questions of not only his people but how they show little to no care for the guardsmen.

"six firing modes, a small slider that can set to max charge or minimal charge shots, can be modified to anything, damn thing can even become a grenade and with this here generator holding two hundred shots; why bother aiming when you can hip fire it till the barrel melts?" He chuckles at his moments in the many battles of Cadia's front lines of laying nothing down, but a blazing red beam of energized shots at demons, mutants, and traitors brings back his smirk.

"And what does that mean exactly?"

Why does he even bother telling a xeno a make a joke about it that they wouldn't even understand? He shakes his head in disappointment and irritation and looks back to finishing his maintenance on the Hellgun's power cables, snapping the stock on the body of the weapon and barrel grip; he finishes by screwing back the barrel, finally watching Luna help using her magic to slide his scope in place. He held it in both hands and aimed at the ceiling to make Celestia's concerns grow as he grabbed his tools and put them back in the toolkit in his backpack.

"It means that anything infront of me or this barrel is, and or possibly is dead the moment I pull the trigger, oh, but don't worry, against the shit I've fought, might as well spit at my enemies and give them a bear hug of death instead of using this cheap garbage of a weapon."

He said, picking up his power pack generator and backpack strapped to his back and holding his Hellgun in hand, standing up and walking over to the door seeing the guard standing by it, opening it for him with both princesses following behind him, both curious to where was he going and what would he do, believing him to have fixed his weapon as both sisters walked on behind the human and were followed by royal guards.

"Were are you going?"

"Outside to that big ass garden of yours.""

"And why would you need your weapon with you exactly?"

Celestia asks only to see Grey stop in his place and turn his head to look down at her with a blank stare from the corner of his eye, but with a crooked smirk creeping onto his face, he moved his Hellgun to have the body of it rest against his shoulder and his hand gripping its stock, checking himself as he stood attention and marched forward to the Cantorlot royal gardens.

"This is my Hellgun. There are many like it, but this one is mine. Its my life as my Hellgun is me, without me, it is useful for someone else. Without my Hellgun, I am useful as nothing but a corpse or a sandbag." He said as if resisting a sort of chant and chuckled to himself.

"Got to test if it works after finishing what a techpriest call a poor maintenance repairing as the Cadian saying goes; "Keep your rifle by your side." I believe it was High Priest Joseph that said that."

Celestia follows Grey with Luna to the Gardens. It was a vast grand garden of many royal critters, perfectly cut-shaped bushes, and laid with beautiful bright colored flowers blooming out in different beds with a small forest that seemed to stretch out with most of the garden. Grey had seen similar or even more extensive gardens, and he could say that it was beautiful, but he had to focus on his task; he finished his weapons maintenance and repairs wanting to test their functionality. He continued to march into the garden's forest at a parade pace, Celestia and Luna following behind him. He saw birds of different colors and sizes, some he had never even seen before; but for one moment, he stopped his march and stared at one creature that he'd seen before. Both princesses caught his stare, seeing him look at one bird that sat on a branch; it was a purple Jay ray. Both sisters looked back at Grey and the purple jay.

"Does thou favor for a avian familiar Grey?"

Luna looked at Grey to see him just stare at the purple bird but only responded with silence before looking forward and continuing his march, leaving both sisters to look at each other and the bird. The bird chirped before flying off the branch and away into the sky, causing both sisters to grow wiry for the human looking back to see him gone from where he once stood and looking around for any sign of the human.

"Grey?"

Grey only looked at the garden as he marched; he felt something. He didn't know what it was or why was he feeling it but to the best description in his mind, he only imagined it as something calling to him or possibly luring not just his mind, but as if his very being, the only thing now was making the sound of both Lunas and Celestia's hooves steps can't be heard, he stopped in place and turn to see they were gone and he was left alone. One moment they were there, and the next they vanished, or was it another "moment" of his?

"Luna...Celestia?

He called out and was gifted nothing, not a sound of animals or birds in the garden, not even natures wind that blew the tree tops above him; he was alone in silence, an eerie silence that did not settle well with him. dropping his Hellgun into his hand and aimed out, slowly scanning the scene around him, the path he was traveling vanished, even the way he came disappeared from view, and now only trees surrounded him. Has it always been like that; maybe his mind was playing tricks on him like his nightmares. But that only changed when a familiar voice called him out by a name he had not heard in a long time, the very name that only little knew and the only ones that did knew of that name, were long dead.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the favored one; "Cain," its been awhile hasn't...?"

His body froze in pure horror at that voice nearly identical to his; he slowly turned his body with his Hellgun, following his sights at what made his heart racing, and for once in all his years of training and time in wars, he felt true fear. Their standing on a stone podium was the very being that made him who he became, made him a criminal, made him a sinner, and put him in shackles, the same man that ripped every single emotion, loved one, and worst his beloved family from his being for his twisted desire; Grey only stared at what he would try to calm himself and believe to being another hunting of his mind punishing him.

"N-no... I... I killed you, you damn traitor... I killed you Abel!"

Grey couldn't understand why he was here. His mind spiraled at the sights of Abel with one hand gripping his Hellgun in a tight grip as the other slapped against his forehead, grunting in pain, trying to figure out why, was it the warps mark taking effect on him, was he descending to madness with the time he spent on this world and with the xenos or was reality coming down on him and this was the time he wakes up to his death. So many thoughts and questions rushed to his mind, but for a brief moment, his mind went silent at Abel's laughter.

"You know brother Cain, you always the special one, they looked at us as equals but we knew only one was fitted to be liked over the other, oh how the mighty have fallen after our little tussle."

"S-shut up... you are no longer one of my blood and do not call me by that damned name."

"And just to let you know, they died like how the cultist died, mother, father..."

"I SAID SILENCE TRAITOR!"

"You call me traitor and may only remember me for that, but yet you've forgotten them. You remember Vire don't you and how she was butcherd even, but lets not forget the most important one of them all... your little Fury."

Abel said with a cheerful tone looking down with a twisted smile on his face as he watched the once Cadia Kasrkin Veteran Grey only scream out a roar like a feral human, quickly aiming the Hellgun using his thumb to set it to max charge and full auto within a split second, he fired a blazing line of las shot after las shot. He couldn't think rational thoughts anymore at the names he said with his Hellgun firing at full power in seconds after each shot with his hand gripping the barrel grip and pulling it down from its recoil, having a once in a lifetime stead firing line of what could be counted one-hundred and seventy-five shots as the gun stopped firing. Grey looked down to his Hellgun, seeing the barrel had melted onto the ground with molten metal spewed around that burned the grass around it in small fires. He tossed the repaired Hellgun to the side, breaking its three-way wiring connection. It hit the grassy ground, broken beyond repair. Grey, no longer able to hold back the built-up anger from having to deal with xenos and from a lack of fighting, broke into raging feral anger fueled one nothing but pure hatred and adrenaline, charging straight toward the one traitorous human he called brother. His hands clenched tightly into fists, and his mind with only thoughts of how to tear the very being before him apart in any possible way.

"ABEL!"

Grey couldn't think or even attempt to hold back; it was no longer an urge but an instinct to kill. His instinct, readying the first punch, his body felt hot, as if the very rage that burned within his body was burning his body from the inside; but nothing matted to him with a single leap, quickly climbing the podium and he struck his fist meeting with Abels face then a second to his stomach. Repeating the following punches with one punch aimed at his face and the second to his stomach, repeating his repetitive attack. He was no longer himself anymore; he grew tired of these xenos, these world, and longed for battle, wanting to only kill the traitors that robbed him of the things that made him human.

'It was all their fault... they took everything from you, they ripped every ounce of those you called your own from your very being, kill them, you need to kill them all, shoot the wounded, burn there bodies, execute those who run. Become their harbinger of death.'

Grey couldn't take it anymore; his hands started to bleed, seeing the flesh over his knuckles puncture open and begin to bleed from punching Abel; who only stood with a twisted smile as his chuckling grew to laughter and into a deeper tone. Grey hit faster and harder as much as he could, grunting and growling like a rabid animal, pouring all his strength into his fists and even using the pain to feed his anger. Grey didn't know what Abel was doing to avoid damage by his punches or why he was taking them without even a flinch. Abel just stood laughing with a twisted smile like a statue, but that didn't bother Grey. Pulling back his right hand as far as he could and roars out, "JUST. DIE. YOU. DAMN. TRAITOR!" He throws his last punch right in the center of Abel's face feeling his knuckle and fingers crack; forcing a loud growl out of Grey as he grips his hand and takes a step back, only to fall off the podium and land on his back, staring at his bleeding broken hand and look up to where Abel stood. But surprised to see a tall stone statue of some sort of creature, its body had different animal limbs an was elongated and ended with a reptilian-like tail, and clawed leg as the other leg was a hoof like the equine ponies of this world, its forearm was of a lions paw and eagle talons, on its back was a feathered and a bat wing. Its head was of a goat with two different horns...or antlers... to top it and a fang protracted from its mouth.

It was posed as if it were laughing, but soon Grey's body felt weak and heavy, panting as his rage calmed, leaving him breathless with both his head and hands in pain as the once deep tone of voice belonging to Abel changed to a different manner, and he sees the stone statue crack and breaks to the creature now stretching and laughing.

"To think that would actually work, oh Grey, you are an amazing escape buddy you know that, I knew you'd do it from the moment I pulled you out of the warp; thank you for not just the escape but the delivery, I knew you could trust a Cadian."

That voice, he heard it before, 'from the warp' no, it couldn't be, the same voice that dragged him out of the warp space and into the world. How, Why, what did it call itself, a dracon-a-ew-quus or something? Grey couldn't pull his memory together as his mind was now clouded and faded in exhaustion. He tried to move his body but felt like a part of his soul was taken from him. Looking at the creature that was free from being a statue, he feels what little strength he had left his body and lay on the ground and stare at the blue sky seeing dark clouds slowly circle around, combining and darkening the sky. The wind came back as the sound of treetops of the royal garden blew hard and wildly; a chilling cold wind blew as the dark clouds slowly brightened to a shade of purple with lightning crackling through the clouds and skies, and soon came the faint sounds of screams that echoed from the skies, Grey could see the creature circling his claw and paw as if it was controlling the sky itself.

"Now, Grey, since your about to passout for a moment, I had some time to make a sort of "deal"... well more like a game with some friends of yours, that I'm sure you might know quiet well."

He snaps his fingers and poofs, disappearing from sight and leaving Grey to only watch faintly as a warp storm opens in the sky; he doesn't know what he has done, but all he does know is he awoke something, and he brought the force Chaos to Equestria. His eyes slowly fluttered close as the last bits of his energy left his body; the sounds of muffled screaming voices were heard around him, along with ponies' hooves galloping, and soon he fell to slumber.

'Now comes your Redemption Grey. Don't worry; I, Discord, left you with some goodies to "help" you even some for those pesky elements once you wake up. But for now, all I need from you is only one thing, to win this game as we cheat it; good luck, soldier of the fallen world.'

To Be Continued...?

Author's Note

Well, that was something, but anyway, the next chapter hint will involve an amazingly twist followed by sickly gore and maybe a reference to a Daemonculaba, if you don't know what that is, bless your being my friend. if you do... better get ya popcorn ready cause its about to get FUCKED

Audio Reading News

A new guess chapter... or episode... A new read of chapter 3 of this story was released by a good friend Fire Heart, go give it a listen and support for his channel for suffering some technical issue but now back and doing what he does best, send him a big thanks and love for give this story an audio read and enjoy down in theses links.

Fire Heart studios

Guardsman Chapter 3 Audio Read

Fire Heart Page

Random maps

The Realm of Chaos of the Four Dark Gods

found off google

Map of the Imperium of Man of current 42nd millennium during the war of the ultra smurfs and the orks vs tyranids allegedly:

How I interpreted the map for this story:

Art/concept art showcase

Allomere concept and idea of what he would look like.

Meeting and awakening of Discord

Shit meme I drew because I hate you

Final Notes

So originally I had this to be published on the 4th but had to delay it back after some family health emergency, and with now me loosing my job of the business I guess now I used to work because of said emergency… this month hasn’t been kind to me ok… all I can say now is I’m sorry for the late publish, and I guess I’ll make this chapter a 1,000 view special or something like that, no much for likes just only for views… yeah…

Do you give an damn no, do you even read these notes and shit probably not, but if you do thanks for being a human being I guess, fuck me…. Take care scrub and go fuck a horse or something