You are Discus Infernus, Sergeant of the Disco Marines and you do not like what you see one bit.

”Sergeant?” a technician asks.

”I see it.” you say, grimly. “How many?”

”Several hundred, sir.”

Your eyes narrow as you look at the auspex readouts. ”Order Spirit of Funk into the atmosphere and have them take up position above the town. Then have them deploy all remaining squads to the ground to take up defensive positions around town.”

”It will be done, sir.” the marine replies.

”Is... it time... for war... brother?” a deep, bass voice asks.

”It is, Grandmaster.”

There is a deep, thunderous cacophony from the Grandmaster’s direction. It takes you a moment to realize that he’s laughing. ”Good... It is never... time... for war.”

”It would seem your wait is over, Grandmaster.”

The mechanical chuckle returns and the Contemptor Dreadnought thunders off to the battlements. ”To the dancefloor... once more! I... shall school... all those who stand... before me!”

You sigh. You truly wish you shared your master’s enthusiasm. You need to warn Anonymous. Feanor is here.

---

You are Feanor the Kinslayer, Archon of the Kabal of the Hand of Fate, and one of the last sons of Craftworld Valinor. You hear heavily armored footsteps approaching your throne. There is only one who would ever dare make an appearance before you without due notification.

”Hello, dear brother.” you say, looking up.

The warrior does not reply. Merely stands before your throne and awaits orders. He’s very heavily armored, an oddity among a race of pirates and raiders. A vox augmented growl sounds behind his helmet.

”We have arrived, the Black Foe is here with the stones. What would you have me do?”

”Ah, always business with you, Fingolfin.”

He growls again, the runes on his Klaive flaring in empathy with his anger.

”Very well, very well. You and your sect shall lead the vanguard. Soften the humans up and prepare them for my arrival.”

”They are well entrenched, my Incubi alone will not be able to break the Astartes’ defense.”

You wave a hand dismissively. ”Take Irideth’s Wyches with you then. The Reavers have been restless with the lack of killing.”

”This is the Black Foe of the Craftworlds. The Scourge of Valinor. It will take far more than that to bring him low. Why send a vanguard at all? Why not just send the fleet to crush him?”

”Because, dear Hierarch, the humans are coming too. I cannot engage all of our forces and leave our back exposed to the humans.”

”If we sent all of our forces against him we would be gone before the humans even arrived!”

”Why Fingolfin, do you not wish to fight them?”

”I would prefer avoiding it.”

”Sadly we are not of like minds, brother. I wish to fight them.”

”Why?”

Your eyes narrow. ”The Knights Inductor fly with them. We could make our revenge twofold in this battle. The Black Foe and well over two thirds of the Knights.”

”You will drive us to ruin with your designs for revenge.” Fingolfin warns.

”I tire of this.” you sigh. “Take your force and leave me. Return the souls of our brothers and sisters, but leave me the Black One.”

The Incubus lord nods at you and strides from the throne room.

”So serious, that one.” a wicked voice says.

You scowl. ”I have not given you permission to leave your... studio.” you spit the last word in disgust.

A hunched, robed figure with far too many limbs slinks from the shadows on the far side of the room. He smiles at you from behind his mask, the corners of his thin lips turning up beneath the fabric, the skin of his face stretched for too tightly over his skull.

”I have not left it, young Feanor. The very galaxy is my studio.”

”Mind your tongue, cretin!” you hiss at him.

He tuts at your words. ”Young people.” he says. “No respect for their elders. Even before the Fall you were all like that.”

”I’ve no respect for your kind, haemonculus. Now return to your chambers or-”

”Or what? You’ll kill me?” he chuckles as though the idea was a joke. “My boy, I fear you as much as I fear Slaanesh.”

You shudder at the name of the Archenemy.

He grins even wider. “Not at all.”

”Then you are a fool.”

”Do not forget who you deal with, child, I am older even than Slaanesh. I have outlasted her as I shall outlast you.” he says, sinking back into the shadows.

You suppress a shudder. That creature is the only thing that can instill fear in you.

---

You are Anonymous and you’ve just woken up after a very long, eventful night with the two mares in bed with you. You begin the process of re-equipping your armor. The long minutes drag by and somehow you manage to avoid waking either Vinyl or Octavia with the racket you were making. You get your helmet on and as soon as your HUD boots up you notice a blinking icon signalling an incoming vox message. It’s Infernus. You open up the link.

”Greetings, brother.” you say into the vox.

”It’s happening.”

Your eyes widen and you feel your hearts begin to race. ”The xenos?”

”Aye, brother. The fleet has arrived and is holding position in high orbit. Two dozen of their craft have broken away from the fleet to make for the surface.”

“We can’t let them land! They’ll open up webway portals for the rest of the army!”

”The Spirit of Funk has taken up position over the town, any of their ships that come near will be obliterated, but it’s likely they’ll avoid direct conflict with the cruiser.”

“Firefek!” you curse. “Hold on, I’m on my way.”

You pause to give a look back to the sleeping mares. You briefly wonder if you’ll ever see them again.

”... I love you.” you whisper. “Both of you.”

You open the door and, as quietly as you can, you leave the room and make your way out of the house. And you march to war.

---

You crouch low through the door to Vinyl and Octavia’s house. Ponyville is utterly silent, none of the ponies have ventured outside. You don’t blame them at all.

You leap into the air and your raptor pack flares to life, sending you high into the sky. You look around the town from your vantage point high in the air and see the hundreds of Astartes moving to take up battle positions. Your blood begins to rush as your anticipation for battle grows.

You spot the outpost and make for it with all haste. Infernus, his squad, Shining Armor, Apophis, and Celestia are there to meet you.

”Sir!” Shining Armor says, snapping a salute. “The battle will begin soon, do you have orders?”

A thousand thoughts race through your head at once.

”Sergeant Infernus!” a marine at an auspex console calls. “A craft has broken away from the others! It’s moving to engage!”

”The xenos wish to engage us! We shall not disappoint them!” Infernus calls.

“Shining Armor, you said your sorcerers can operate as magical artillery?”

He nods. “That’s correct, sir.”

“Can you shoot down one of their craft?”

He looks hesitant. ”I couldn’t say for sure, sir. I’ve never seen what kind of aircraft they use.”

You point upwards. “Take a look.”

He does and his eyes widen. The xenos craft is distant, appearing barely bigger than a bird at this distance, but it’s size grows with each second.

”No guarantees, sir, but... I’ll see what we can do.” With that he teleports away.
A minute passes and the craft grows closer, the other xeno ships have also started appearing in the distance. Another minute passes and your fist clenches around the grip of your Blastmaster.

“Damnit, Armor, what are you doing?”

The ship is close now, it’s weapons bristle with energy as it prepares to unleash a death storm upon the Astartes emplacements. Just as it reaches firing distance a beam of purple energy erupts from a section of battlements. The beam tears into the craft’s armor, gutting it and it careens out of control, spiraling away from town. A cheer goes up within the outpost as it impacts the ground and detonates.

“It would seem your trust in the pony was well placed.” Apophis remarks.

You turn to Celestia to see her smirking. ”I told you that you would be grateful for their presence.”

A flash of light signals the return of Shining Armor.

“By the Dark Gods, Armor, that was incredible! Just keep that up and we’ll have no trouble at all!”

After a moment, you realize he’s panting heavily, sweat matting his coat, and it looks like he’s having trouble standing. ”Th-thank you, s-sir.” he says, making a weak attempt at a salute.

“Are you alright, brother?” you ask.

He nods. ”Don’t w-worry about me, s-sir. That just took... took a lot out of me and my men.”

“Will you be able to do that again?” you ask.

He shakes his head. ”I don’t... don’t think so sir. Three of my m-men passed out f-from exhaustion after that.”

You sigh in frustration. Should have known it was too good to last.

”I’m sorry... for letting... you down, s-sir.” he says, still panting.

“It’s alright, you did well, brother. Take a rest for now, I’ll take it from here.”

”Thank you, sir.” he says. Then he promptly passes out.

You turn to Sergeant Infernus. “Infernus, do you have any Melta charges? If you do I can get up there and plant them on their engines.”

Infernus nods and calls to a tech-marine who comes over bearing the objects in question. ”Five charges.” the tech-marine says. “Everything I currently have available.”

“Damn it.” you curse. “Even if each one takes out a ship it won’t be nearly enough.”

”It’s all we have available at the moment.” Infernus says.

“Damn it all... Alright, I’ll go see what I can do up there, you all prepare yourselves down here.”

Apophis nods and with a flash of Warp energy he teleports away.

“Celestia, make sure Shining Armor is alright. We’re going to be needing him in the future.”

”Of course. He’ll be well looked after.” she says, picking up Shining Armor in her golden magic aura.

”Take care you don’t die, brother. I’d rather you were around to help us fight this damned war of yours.”

“Aw, I knew you cared.” you say.

”Not really, no.”

“Don’t you try being tsundere with me. That happens to be one of my many fetishes.”

”What...?”

“Later!” With that you rocket off into the sky towards the approaching Dark Eldar ships. As you pass through the clouds you’re ambushed by some kind of flying- Oh wait no, it’s just Rainbow.

”Hey Anon! Whatcha up to?”

“... War?”

”That’s cool. Hey, so I was wondering if maybe you’d wanna go get some cider later or something.”

“... I’m sort of in the middle of a war.”

”Oh, right. But if you were all done with that would you want to?”

“I... yes?”

”Awesome! Any way I can help you get that over with faster?”

“Not unless you can take out those Eldar ships.”

Rainbow takes a look at the ships you’re approaching and hums thoughtfully to herself. ”Alright, sit tight, I got this. It’s Rainboom Time!” she yells as she flies off.

Oh shit, you didn’t think she’d actually do it. “No, Rainbow, no!”

---

You are Hierarch Fingolfin and your brother is an idiot. The losses you would incur with the substandard force you possessed would be unacceptable. There were none better trained than your Incubi, and Irideth’s Wyches were a force to be reckoned with, but you're simply too few.

Wait, what was that idiot Carius doing? You watch in silent rage as the ship filled with overeager Kabalites hungry for slaughter pulled ahead in an attempt to get to the killing first. No, no, no, pull back you idiots!

You clench the hilt of your Klaive in anger and watch with gritted teeth as the ship pulls further and further away. As they near the settlement were the Black One resided a beam of lavender energy lances from the ground and guts the craft, sending it careening into the ground.

Powerful Warp-based anti-aircraft weaponry. That is not good. And if those idiots hadn’t been stupid enough to dive into it your whole force probably would have fallen to that weapon. In death they were infinitely more useful than they had ever been in life.

“Take the firing range of that weapon into account and make for an appropriately distanced landing area. I don’t want anymore craft lost to that weapon.” you calmly order the pilot.

He obeys and alters your course.

”Hierarch, we have contact.” a warrior says.

“Is their craft moving to engage?”

”No, Hierarch, it looks like... a human.”

“They have strike vessels?”

”No, Hierarch. It’s just a human with a flight pack... My lord, it’s... it’s the Black One.”

You walk over to the console and gaze intently into the holoprojection of the contact. It's him.

“Deploy all Reavers and Scourges!”

He's a fool for attacking alo- wait, what was that with him? Suddenly a chromatic blastwave erupts within your small fleet’s formation.

---

You are Anonymous and holy shit what the fuck barbecue. You have no idea what in the infinite hells of the Warp Rainbow Dash just did, but she may have just saved the world.

You watch in awe as a rainbow blast wave radiates outward from the middle of the eldar’s fleet formation. The vessels closest to the blast wave either crack in half or shatter to pieces. The further away ones are tossed about like ragdolls, some simply blown aside a ways, and others thrown into irrecoverable somersaults and sent hurtling towards the ground.

Mother. Fucking. Rainbow Dash.

After that display, a little over half a dozen of the ships remain intact. With the application of your melta charges you could cripple this wave of invaders.

Rainbow returns to your side trailing a brilliant rainbow beam behind her. ”So, how was that? We on for cider later?”

“... Rainbow Dash, we are on for cider for the rest of your life.”

She pumps a hoof into the air at your statement. ”Woo! Awesome! I’ll see ya later Anon!” she says before rocketing off again. Sweet Slaanesh, that pony really likes her fucking cider.

Now you just have to take care of the remaining- Something strikes your pauldron, surprising you. It shatters against your armor and as the fragments spin by you would say it looks like a crystal of some kind. Almost like- Another one hits your armor and shatters against it.

You look up just in time to swerve to the side to avoid a jetbike. A splinter weapon. You turn around to face the eldar ships again. Hundreds of jetbikes and winged xenos fill the sky. There is no way you can fight through all these. You have to retreat for now. You content yourself with the knowledge that enough damage had been done to blunt the assault.

It's going to be a bitch, but you can survive this many. You turn tail and rocket back towards the ground, heading back to the defenses. A few hundred jetbikes blow past you, seemingly completely ignoring you. They wanted action, and one Space Marine wasn’t going to give them what they needed.

You grin wickedly. But you knew someone who could.

More splinter rounds strike your armor and you glance around to see that while the Reavers had abandoned you for better prey, the Scourges had eyes only for you.

“Come then, fools. I will feed your souls to Slaanesh!” you roar over the howl of the wind.

You hold your Blastmaster one-handed and whip around, firing a lance of Warp-wub at a Scourge toting a splinter cannon. The blast shakes the feathers from his body and rattles him until he’s little more than a sack of liquified meat. One down, a hundred to go.

You dive down through the air, veering around neurotoxic spikes and other projectiles. The few that attempt to grapple you are quickly reminded why hollow bones aren’t the best for melee combat.

But as agile as you are, you simply can’t avoid every shot. The xenos are so numerous that they practically fill the sky with splinter rounds. Lucky shots find joints and gaps in your armor plates and pierce deep into your flesh, dissolving and sending deadly neurotoxin flowing through your body. Not the best high, but it's alright.

In the midst of your flight you feel a presence trying to enter your mind. You panic at first, but quickly remember that the dark kin don’t make use of psychic powers or sorcery. That left only one person it could be. You allow the presence into your mind and soon the voice of Apophis echos through your psyche.

”Anonymous, my Rubric Marines cannot keep up with these jetbikes! They’re far too quick for my men to follow!”

“Worry not, brother!” you shout into your mind. “I’m on my way back now and the solution to your problems shall be forthcoming!”

There’s a brief pause before his reply, from the link you sense him baking a Reaver Wych alive with witchfire. ”Just make it quick!” The psychic link goes dead.

Well at least you know the bug is okay, now let’s see about Infernus. You open a vox link, your body working on auto pilot as you fly and massacre the winged Eldar.

”Anonymous!” the voice of Infernus yells through the vox. “I saw what happened with the ships, you magnificent bastard!”

“Wasn’t my doing brother. It was all the rainbow pony’s doing.”

”Sweet Emperor, what?”

“Nothing. Just checking up on you. You lot managing to hold out?”

”It’s fucking hell down here, but yes, we’re holding. No casualties yet from what I can tell, these xenos seem more intent on racing each other than actually fighting us.”

“Good to hear. I’m on my way back down now, I’ll see you in a bit.

”Aye brother. Emperor protect your undeserving, heretical ass.”

“Eat a dick, brother.”

Then you kill the link. And a few more Eldar.

---

You are Hierarch Fingolfin and 10/10 U MAD. Some kind of weapon just devastated the Kabalite cannon fodder of your fleet, leaving you with precious few bodies to put between your Incubi and the Space Marines. Whatever creatures inhabited this planet, they're clearly masters of warfare. That beam weapon and now that explosive were clearly testaments to their battlefield competence.

As well as a testament to your brother’s undeniable idiocy. With weapons like those at their disposal, you can only imagine what horrors you'll face once you actually touch down. You need more warriors.

But you would do without. You have to. For the honor of your sect, you would have to face the Black Foe with this force. Sometime honor really, really sucked.

“Pilot, order every air based unit in our force to take wing immediately. I want this attack to proceed as swiftly as possible.”

”Yes, Hierarch.” he replies.

Within moments the Reavers and Scourges have all deployed and begun their descent to the settlement below. You don’t really expect any of them to live, not against the Black Foe, but they would at least soften him up for your warriors. Who you don’t really have much confidence in either.

This is a chosen of She Who Thrists, it would not be an easy battle. You remember how he devastated your shrine back on Valinor when he shattered the Two Trees with that abominable spider. How he tore the soulstones from your brethren’s armor and ate them. How he cracked apart your Exarch’s soulstone.

You raise a hand to the breast of your armor, where that same cracked soulstone now sat in your own armor, transformed into a deadly Bloodstone. It is with this weapon you would slay him. For Valinor. For Finwe.

---

It had been a pretty interesting ride down. It usually is. This was almost as intense as your invasion of Commoragh. All it's missing is the Commorragh part. And your brothers...

Oh well, best not be having any of those thoughts right now! You needed your thinkin’ space for far more pressing matters. Like saving a world full of ponies. Ponies always take priority.

You hit the ground at a run and sprint behind the nearest cover you can find. It happens to be occupied by Interstellar and Remixar.

“Hey guys! What’s up? You having a good time?”

They just stare at you.

“So where’s Infernus?”

”He’s somewhere nearby.” Interstellar says. “We became separated when the Reavers attacked.”

”Aye.” Remixar confirms. “But he won’t be far. We can still reach him over the vox network.”

“That’s cool, but don’t worry, I don’t really need him right now. What I need is for you two to follow me and give me some covering fire while I work on getting us some help.”

”Help?” Remixar asks.

”Please don’t tell me you’re summoning more heretics.” Interstellar pleads.

You wave a hand at them and scoff. “Oh please. As if I would try that twice. I’m not summoning some boring old heretic.” you say.

The two Disco Marines visibly sigh with relief.

“No no no. No more heretics here. I’m summoning a straight up daemon.”

”Oh Throne of Terra!”

”FFFFFFUUUUUUUUU-”

---

You are Discus Infernus and today is a good day for some good ol’ fashioned prugin’, Space Marine style.

You roll out of cover and shred some sweet tunes on your Storm Keytar and a jetbike vanishes beneath an assault of a golden wub lance. You decide to throw some tunes on in your armor. Good music is integral to any good battle.

You really love Boreale’s new stuff. He only just kept getting better. You find yourself singing along with the song as you battle the Eldar.

“Space Marines. We are the Space Marines. We are the Space Marines! Our enemies die!” Unfortunately you can’t really get Boreale’s accent down so it just doesn’t sound as good.

“The foul traitors, yes if I’m not mistaken, we will overwhelm them, we will leave none alive!”

You blow apart another jetbike.

“Deep strikes!”

A Scourge comes apart under your weapon.

“Deeps strikes!”

You toss your Storm Keytar in the air, catching it by its neck. You then whirl around, swinging it like a bat and catching a Reaver Wych in the face as she rockets by.

“WE ARE THE EMPRAH’S FUREH!”

There it is. You can get his accent once in awhile.

Suddenly the music dims as you get an incoming vox message.

”Sergeant, we need your assistance!” That was Remixar.

“Brother, where are you? I shall come as swiftly as possible!”

”We’re close to the town with Anonymous.”

“Anonymous is back?”

”Yes, sergeant. We’re providing him with cover while he summons aid. The Eldar assault has begun to pick up here.”

Summons aid. Emprah fucking damnit.

“Summons aid?”

”Err, yes. He said he was summoning a daemon to assist us.”

“Fucking damnit, Anonymous! No more fucking heretics! I’ll be there as soon as I can.

”Acknowledged.”

You begin sprinting in the direction your squads FoF tags were coming from. As well as Anon’s big, red PURGE tag. Fortunately they aren’t very far away. When you arrive what you see rustles you in ways you cannot begin to describe.

Heretical sigils cover everything. Icons of Slaanesh, pantheon stars. And right in the middle is a glowing, writhing portal to the Warp which Anonymous stands before, screaming some incantation. As he performs the ritual a deafening roaring echoes from the portal. But it sounds strangely mechanical.

”ANONYMOUS!” you bellow over the noise. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

He ignores you and continues with his incantation, you get closer and begin to make it out. ”Bestow on them one fleeting moment of pleasure as they stare in wonder and orgasmic delight at one of your most divine creations before dying at his hand!”

”ANONYMOUS! DON’T YOU DARE!”

”Oh great Lord Slaanesh, for these reasons and many others that tease and titillate our imaginations, we beseech you, send forth your servant.”

The roaring becomes deafening and you see something move within the portal.

”THE DAEMON PRINCE, DOOMRIDER!”

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