Halo Warhammer 40k Novels & Stories

And I looked, and behold, a pale horse! And its rider's name was Death, and Hades followed him. And they were given authority over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword and with famine and with pestilence and by wild beasts of the earth. – Revelations 6:8 The 5th Hegemony Fleet, or what was left of it, flashed into the Rylaren Gamede system with a bright flash. They were joined by the remaining mercenary fleet, evacuee ships, and whoever else they could get out of Conflict Sector 2.

Just then, a brilliantly-colored barrier of light appeared around Wilbur. He stood in the middle of this barrier, completely unmoving. The terrifying Halo of Death struck the barrier, and Maddox let out a crazed laugh. No power could withstand the Halo of Death. It was the God of Darkness' ultimate move, powerful enough to destroy any living being and send their soul to feed the God of Darkness. However, Maddox's smile froze the very next instant. The light shooting out of Halo of Death was completely absorbed by Wilbur's Dragon's Safehaven without even causing the slightest of ripples.

I fully-fledged ignored him for the whole month but that day luck was not on my side. The day when our Hate War officially started... ****Vote and Comment***

he spits. I squat down to his level. I raise my shirt and there, just above my waistband on my hip, is the Damned Forsaken crest of a raven with a skeletal wing and head sitting atop a skull with a halo leaning against it on one side and a gun on the other. His eyes widen in acknowledgment.

He could lose everything, but he couldn't lose her. Malakai took Eden's halo and broke it in half creating two horns instead. The halo that represented innocence was what Malakai broke and turned it into a killer. He took an angel and turned her into a devil. But deep down, she always remained an angel. Malakai's angel. Even with her broken halo. So, like I said. This wasn't a story about heroes and villains, this was all about the villains. Because villains will always be villains if the heroes tell the story. So I decided to tell you a story from the villain's point of view.

"What is your duty? To serve the Emperor's will! What is the Emperor's will? That we fight and die!"—chants from Warhammer 40,000 (videogame) (Content Warning—this chapter contains scenes of graphic violence and gore, reader's discretion is advised.) ** Ides of January, 41 AD The raw cry of—"Traitors!"—ripped through the torch-lit tunnel like a banshee’s wail. “Die!” SWISH THRUST “Urk—”

"Stop! None of you are going anywhere!" Vera Hawthorn rushed over in three quick strides and planted herself right in front of me. She glared at me like I was a hopeless case. "Have you lost your mind? Do you even realize what you're doing? Donating blood for them is no different from selling yourself! Have you no shame?" Those familiar words sent a chill down my spine. Only then did I realize that I had been reborn. In my previous life, she had stopped me the exact same way. At the time, all I could think about was that someone's life was on the line. Besides, I had already come here prepared to donate blood voluntarily.

:-D According to the previous chapter. The shades of joy I mentioned. White means we take joy in good things e.g. in love, in kindness, etc. For some black deeds act as fuel of joy. They take pleasure in doing bad to someone and same was the case with Minahil. She was relating her pleasure to Abraham losing the game. And for most the fuel to Joy is grey. Grey is a border line between white and black. A person faces different situations. Sometimes we take pleasure after revenge and sometimes we take pleasure in forgiveness. (;

Darian’s POV The throne felt colder tonight. Darian Rhadamanthys Draven sat upon the black stone carved from obsidian, older than empires, colder than death. The flames in the great hall of the Obsidian Moon Pack danced across the polished marble floor, reflecting the deep red of his eyes. But they offered no warmth, no comfort. Power had long since dulled into routine. Fear was commonplace. And loneliness... loneliness had rooted itself in the marrow of his bones like a second skin.

They took the oracle to the deepest part of the village where the rebels lived, to give him time to concentrate on divining the future that awaited them. "You must prepare for war, it is inevitable. Blood corrupts the enemy, so you must watch your necks if you want to win," that's all the oracle says, who was in the middle of what looked like a ritual. "Blood? Neck? Maybe we'll have to face vampires after all, this looks very bad," Marcus says. "I don't know, but we won't be afraid to face the people who want to harm us, so let's arm ourselves with courage and eradicate evil from the world. And if we need to go to war to achieve that, so be it," says Lyra optimistically.