Miss Me?

Tall, dark haired, sharp eyes glowing light blue with a hint of purple, toned and well built– shredded, simply. Clothed in ripped– light blue hoodie with short sleeves matched with dark blue sweatpants stripped with gray along the sides, and sneakers… they're just sneakers.

[You've found The Timeless Tower]

[Would you like to enter]

Lingering eyes in his shadow wriggle in excitement from his recent class change quest.

Sung Jin-woo wasn't expecting to find the dungeon right before him, a golden door in the middle of a forest– real deep in South Korean forestry. Led by a golden trail, all it takes is one push, then he's in. 

––––––––––––––

A familiar setting, one encumbered by trees not of Earth– musky, humid air… not of Earth. A jungle like no other, Sung finds himself in; but to him, just another day in a gate. Already, due to his higher senses, trouble creeps.

He could already form guesses that something higher is at play here. A lone gate in the middle of the forest– gold too, hard to miss usually– and a quest related to this gate. Not to mention a different UI color for this quest too. But he has no other choice but the trudge through.

As for the trouble,

––Screech!

It'll be knocking on hell's door soon. Both blades ready, Sung dashed into the depths of 'its' lair. Not even an inch in– he was jumped by some hormagaunts bearing scything talons. Twisting his body in response, he made quick work of them– leaving nothing but limbs and torsos and innards. The jungle gave him no breathing room as ravener's ascended from the ground, scythe-like limbs ready to swing. Not even a nanosecond, from the depths of the jungle, tyranid warriors came rushing– some firing their deathspitters while others brandishing their fangs and claws.

[Murderous Intent]

Surrounded, he activated what is essentially a CC (crowd control) effect. The tyranids hesitated for a second– a lethal second. It may not have fully taken effect considering their nature, but a second was enough for Sung as he dealt with the reveners. Arms, belly, the revener's tail, all sliced and diced. As for the warriors, a longsword cleaved their hesitation in half whilst protecting his lord from the projectiles the deathspitters projected. Both Igris and Sung traversed deeper into the jungle. Killing warriors, termas, rippers, hormas, and warrior primes. 

The primes were a piece of work. They were the apex of their lane; these were stronger than normal tyranid warriors– in both weaponry and lethality. In fact almost all the tyranids, whether new or last seen in this gate, were stronger than their previous selves. The reveners are one example as they were never in this gate. Of course Sung doesn't know that, but in comparison to the one the last group that encountered these apex predators, they bettered themselves in some way or another. 

The answer is simple: Zesrael. Zesrael's reawakening, as well as his grindset, has affected The Timeless Tower in many ways. As some might have guessed, The Timeless Tower is connected to the realm of The Ever Chosen. Whoever delves into these gates has to pass the trials and tribulations of the 40k world before the main boss. Like,

––Rumble!

Massive, bigger than a dreadnought– holy war coffins of the Imperium. Four arms serrated with blades with jagged edges like a hand saw. Body armored with extreme degrees of exoskeletal protection, like a manifestation of the word 'bulwark' itself. Perfect set of teeth on the bugger– not for its straightness, far from it– but perfect to rip and tear with.

The swarmlord, not the biggest– or the baddest fucker in the tyranid fleet, but certainly an immortal– essentially immortal commander of the field of battle as it has its own separate thoughts aside from the hivemind nature of their species. These walking extinctions have eons of experience from the constant dying, rebuilding, and redeploying of themselves– always coming out better than their previous selves.

After just minutes of delving into the green abyss, a Herald of the Great Devourer stands before Sung and Igris. Beads of sweat ran down Sung's face. It may have been minutes, but he was in constant reaction as swarms of them damned bugs were relentless– never ending. Now he's gotta deal in size as well.

––Howl!

As Sung blinked, the swarmlord howled in retaliation; and as he opened his eyes, the serrated blade was centimeters away from his skin. Leaned back by a pulling force, a sword belonging to the knight Igris, hummed in shadowy intent; clashing against the lord's disruptive bioelectrical power coming from all four blades. Igris pulled Sung back by the nape of his hoodie, as expected by the loyal knight of its caliber. 

Sung used the momentum to roll backwards. Looking up from his position he couldn't get a good look as he back flipped from a crouching position. 

––Stisch!

A mantis-like claw lay embedded on the dirt Sung previously kneeled on. His trust in his senses saved him a head. A beast in chameleonic skin stood before– bearing its tentacles at Sung.

As the battle for the apex predator raged on within the acute realm of The Timeless Tower, Zesreal had other plans such as gathering allies; and where no better to start than to visit the two genetically enhanced spartans he saved. Maybe even gain the trust of the flying brick himself– Master Chief.

––––––––––––––

—Wvamp!

—Wvamp!

—Wvamp!

Blaring sirens and red lights all across the halls of the Autumn. Marines and non combat personnel had scattered, doing the best they could in the name of retaliation against the covenant scum. Among them were two spartan threes. A skull on his helmet and a rough aggression at every step of his wake. The other, meticulous, trained, precise and skilled. They were Noble Four and Noble Six.

After hopping on the Pillar of Autumn, they were pursued by a detached force of the covenant fleet that decimated Reach– Halo's own Cadia one can say. As they were boarded, they were tasked with escorting the Spartan in green to the command bridge. They were making their way towards the cryo chamber the Chief was stationed at. Unfortunately, the covenant was playing keep away– although they didn't know it yet.

In the case of both Noble Six and Four, they'd be seeing a familiar face. More so Noble Four, ever since waking up he's been grouchy, brooding more than Sasuke could ever brood. He's been itching to put a nice eight gauge hole into that numbnutses chest for knocking him out without warning.

In the cryo room where Chief slept like a baby, Zes appeared unnoticed by the singular personnel in the room as well as the two observers atop a wall, adjacent to the Chief's crib. They monitored through the glass– built in the wall– separating their room from the one below them as they tinkered with nerdy stats and buttons. 

Zes picked a nice quiet spot, leaning against the wall with arms crossed atop the other. His initial plan was simple, stalk and wait till chief gets on the bridge before proceeding with winging it. Afterall, this is Halo– and Chief is the protag of this world. He doesn't need Zesrael to hold his hand like… like Issei or… etc. In fact, it might just be an insult to his abilities. 

(─‿‿─) 'I wonder if a player from Earth is just starting this game and sees two Spartans not of this time as well as a kid wearing a suit of a different universe– oh the possibilities! Maybe I should go to a COD lobby? Let's say… BO2, 3? Perhaps the original Modern Warfare like two and three.'

––––––––––––––

The Writer advises Anastasia to refrain her son from going to COD lobbies so as to not get banned from the internet.

Anastasia, back in her room whilst eating and watching from Zesrael's perspective, comments offhandedly, "Sound like a you problem."

The Writer reminds her that even the mild topics the players spout against one another would be considered an infringement to the Geneva Convention.

"Pfft– no no NO! You got it all wrong," Anastasia looks over void, "It's a Geneva Suggestion– not a Convention!"

The Writer sighs and comments that you're just as unhinged as those partaking in COD lobbies.

"You're just not cultured in the ways of the golden age of gaming, bozo."

––––––––––––––

(*^ ‿ <*)♡ 'Another thought– another time.'< p>

Zesreal's thoughts were cut as automatic doors near the corner of a room slid open. Two Spartan threes rushed in as they laid eyes on a legend personified. As that continues on schedule, it goes on just like the game. Chief wakes up by a tech marine or something, understands their being boarded by covenant breaching in on the observation room above them. Make his way toward the bridge by way of avoiding firefights and just fire and explosion in general. Being led by Chipps Dubbo some part of the way– what a fine, Australian specimen by the way– he finally reached the bridge to meet Captain Keyes.

The bridge mates were in awe for but a moment as they saw three spartans within arms reach. As the conversation started, Zesreal made himself known.

Zesrael within the last couple of months found out a lot of small details about himself, one of them being the nanosuit can change its appearance depending on what he's wearing. An ability the suit never had in their own respective world, but one he's come to fuse with. Turns out, fusing an armor with a clothing of sorts makes it so it can take on that form at a later date anytime Zesrael is feeling drippy.

So, Zesrael appeared with his good hunter's garb, an illusion no one in this room would come to detect. Various reactions upon Zes's sudden existence played a part in the ensuing chaos of the matter. Bodyguards protecting Keyes raised their arms in response along side Six, the personal on computers froze in place, Master Chief was ready to throw hands, and Emile,

[Maximum Armor]

––Bang!

––Cha!

––Chik!

He didn't hesitate and attempted to blow Zesrael a new one. He could've dodge, but he decided not to as a form of twisted respect. In the end, he was launched by the force of blast, grunted upon the impact of both pellets and wall. Thankfully, his stats were above 300 so he should be fine, but just in case he activates maximum armor.

"Ow– shit, that hurt!" Zesrael expressed.

Suddenly, he got on his feet quicker than anybody could react, "Kidding! You need to work on that pent up aggression little Noble. Someone might get hur–urt," Zes playfully sang the last part of his sentence.

Zesrael was usually never this talkative, but then again, most of the people that know him know that communicating with body and facial expressions was just another form of annoyance for those that are close to him. Considering the situation, now is not the time for comedic exposition.

"Wanna try that again?" Zesrael taunted Four.

Maybe… a little comedic exposition.

"You–"

"You're him right? The one that was on the Onager," Six butted in before Four could raise the tension even further. But one has to wonder how one can raise the tension further when shots were fired.

Six turned to Emile, "Also, you just shot a child."

Four just snorted.

Zes made a peace sign with his left hand and gave them all a wide smile, "Yup! You're welcome, by the way. Don't mind him, I may be a child but I can still kick all y'all asses."

Zesrael's smile disappeared quickly as he addressed the matter at hand, "Look, we have no time for chit chat," he looks at Keyes, "Your shit is boarded, only a matter of time before everyone is wiped out. Better start giving orders of evacuation like– now!"

His smug expression returned as if his heavy tone never existed, "And don't mind me, I'm just along for the ride," he waves his hand dismissively in front of his face.

Keyes, knowing the situation, judged Zes to be an enigma; one they can't decipher as of now given the state of affairs. He'll just have to trust that he's an ally.

"Sir," Chief said as if asking what his orders were, looking at Keyes.

Noble Four didn't offer much reaction, he's a professional, believe it or not.

Noble Six lowers his rifle, as do others– including Noble Four with his shotgun, though in heavy reluctance.

Zesrael nodded in satisfaction. As usual, he took himself and leaned on the nearest wall, tipping his hunter's hat toward Keyes. 

Keyes sighs as another impending headache is around the corner. Considering How Noble Four reacted, their brief history is something to keep in mind. Though, shooting a child is still excessive use of force, even if that child survived the engagement.

As they figured out their plan of action, Zesrael couldn't help but be annoyed as a certain AI is constantly trying to hack in his suit throughout the interaction. Thankfully, considering his shtick is tech and all that, he made it a point to gain anti–hacking and malware contingencies.

(⇀‸↼‶) 'Fucking hell, I knew I'd be in Emile's bad side but to shoot me as soon as I make myself known– does he not like children or something?'

The onlookers keeping watch didn't understand Zes's main way of interacting with others. His body language and facial expressions do not amount to much discernment to the others aside from shallow inferences that only shave off the tip of the iceberg to Zes's inner thoughts.

'How should I sow chaos?' Zesrael thought mischievously.

Taken out of his surface thoughts, he saw a glimpse of the blue, digital lady that calls Chief stud muffin– at least that's his head cannon. She briefly glanced at Zes, perplexed for sure; simply by his existence and the fact that she couldn't breach Zes nonexistent suit. The glancing stopped as Chief took her in his head as the man himself got further orders alongside the spartan threes. 

'Whatever, gotta cash in on my free shit anyway, been putting it off since creation.'

Didn't take them long as Zes window shopped the universe of things that could prove useful, fun, or that could spark his inner interest.

"Hey– Pipsqueak!" Noble four called out, "You're with us."

"Cool," Zesrael cheerfully responded, "Let's go!"

"Hey– Wait! You don't even– sigh– never mind."

Six and Chief looked at each other, a slight worry at the given hand. They still weren't sure whether the kid was friendly. One thing is for sure, he's certainly a threat considering he was in a brightly lit room, full of personnel and no one perceived his existence– even Cortana was blind until he showed himself and she's an AI with the birds eye view with most of the ship. He also took a shotgun blast straight to the chest at more than optimal effective range– which would deplete energy shields and sometimes kill elites through them in one shot. 

Noble Six went ahead to catch up with Noble Four and Zesrael. Chief followed suit before being stopped by Keyes.

He hands him a magnum, "I don't keep it loaded."

Catching up to the three, Chief heard one of the two spartans questioning Zes, prodding for his character. A sensible thing to do when you're going to trust your back to someone knew.

Turning a corner, Chief saw what he guessed would be the latter half of the conversation. 

Zesrael summoned his bolter, using its barrel to adjust his hunter's hat, "Trust me, I'm walking firepower," he gave Emile a cheeky smile, "enough questions, it's useless when you can't live long enough to process the information."

He looks over in a certain direction, "Besides, we've got company."

––Boom!

Automatic doors blew wide open, then came grunts and split lips guns ablaze. They were currently in a room being used as a makeshift rally point. Where wounded and other marines congregated for recovery or awaiting orders. Any able marine– wounded or not– responded in kind. The room was doused in ear ringing hail of ballistic projectiles and plasma rounds.

Noble Four, Noble Six, and the Master Chief ducked and tanked stray shots as they found cover. Emile relished the fight as he provided suppressive fire with his shotgun. Six as well wasn't falling behind in contribution as he fired the assault rifle. Reloading, he noticed Chief in a pinch as he held a magnum yet hadn't fired a single shot. Grabbing a spare magnum mag, he tossed it at Chief.

"Chief!"

Gaining the Chief's attention, Six watched as Chief tilted the magnum he had on hand to slot in the spinning mag. As it slid effortlessly into the hole, Chief spun the magnum as he hit the end of the now inserted mag sternly on his thigh to secure it in place. Hearing the click, pulling back on the slide to put one in the chamber, Chief gave Six a knowing nod– Six returned it in kind as he scored more tallies in his record.

Zes watched this as he resisted to fangirl given the situation. Of all the iterations, of all the worlds, the Master Chief was one of his top ten in terms of an interesting story to read as someone that traveled and played amongst the worlds his mother created.

'Cue the Doom music– shit, wrong world,' Zes jokingly thought, 'aight, time to pull my weight– but not too much, gotta gain their trust– and in time, their camaraderie.'

No longer stealthing like Drax or Tyberos, more intended shots came his way from the covenant forces. From the marines that were fighting back, to the spartans running around living up to their given title– spartan, the covenant forces dwindled. Some of the grunts ran as they saw three demons wrecking havoc. One with brutal efficiency, one with clean precision, and the other with undaunted ingenuity.

––Bang!

––Bang!

Some individuals, from both the covenant and UNSC forces, took notice of the sound. A menacing sounding firearm took out a shield jackal's right arm and an entire grunt torso. The jackal didn't fare well either as the after explosion tore the xeno bastard open.

––Rev!

Then suddenly, a chainsaw out of nowhere followed by a sudden, blurred movement. Both sides saw the culprit as one of the young sangheilis in blue armor instantaneously growled in pain. A child in a hunter's garb had a blade etched into the flesh of a sangheili warrior. A large, malicious smirk as a flare of homicidal purpose engraved in his eyes as he revs his chain knife, forcing it upward, feeling the tug and cuts he's constantly making as blood splatters onto him. His coat stained, his hat blemished, and his pinchable cheeks soiled in blue gore– his smirk never changing.

The poor bastard was painfully split in two from the waist and above– alien anatomy hanging in full display in a bloody presentation. Zes winds up his chain knife and whips it in smooth motion, expelling the excess blood on the metallic floor of the ship, "I don't even need maximum speed for this with my stats being over 300 hundred," he mumbled.

He glances at the remaining few covenant forces, each gaining their own reserve of inhuman intention. Even the remaining elites flinched at the gaze.

He looks over at the spartans, giving them an innocent smile– fully utilizing his cuteness stat, "See! I can be useful!"

Six and Four just glanced at each other, disbelief hidden behind their visors. Chief on the other hand took this time to stick a plasma grenade on a nearby grunt as he threw the little shit toward the stunned elites. The elite in question dodged the thrown grunt only to see a stuck plasma grenade behind it. The elite's shield depleted to nothing as the explosion occurred, kickstarting the final half of the firefight.

Wrapping up, Emile blew a hole on the last grunt, ejecting a shotgun shell. Chief and Six reloaded their weapons and acquired more ammunition for their endeavor; Chief fully equipped himself as he took a rifle from a dead marine, making sure to pay his respects in silence for but a moment.

Their objective was the same as in game: to get to an escape pod and GTFO. The four stooges assisted any marine or able body as much as they could whilst eliminating any and all covenant forces. By the assistance of Cortana, they managed to get on the final escape pod. Some marines and the three spartans climbed aboard and got themselves comfortable before the bumpy ride.

Chief turned back and saw Zesrael just outside the door, still standing in the hallway.

"Kid," Chief starts, "get on."

The others took notice as they looked at the smiling kid covered in alien blood. From their perspective, the kid glances to his right and raised his chain knife that transformed into a bolt pistol,

––Bang!

––Bang!

––Bang!

He fired shots as grunts squealed far off into the distance.

Zes gave the people a sideways glance and his usual smile, "I'll meet you on the surface."

[Cloak Engage]

Zesrael disappeared from sight.

One of the marines unbuckled himself and attempted to run after the kid, afterall, he was one of the few marines that hadn't seen the strangely dressed kid in action. A stern hand on his shoulder stopped him from doing so; he turned to the owner of the hand in disbelief.

"Sir," he inquired, "we need to get the kid back here before he endangers himself."

"Negative," Chief denied the notion.

"The only one endangering themselves would be you marine," Emile stated while playing with his kukri knife.

"But–"

"Close it," Six interjected before the marine could say another word.

Noble Four, Noble Six, and Master Chief all knew the reliability of the kid. All three came to the same conclusion: kid's supernatural. The speed at which he clears distances is astronomical. The strength it takes to pierce armor and skin as well as flesh in one go with just the tips of his fingers all the way through is another feat that's unheard of. But to further expand on the ridiculousness, Zesrael ripped an elite in two with those very same hands. 

Not one time did they have to watch his back. He somehow almost always knew where they were, himself, and those of his adversaries at all times. It was different from the motion sensors they had, it was like the kid had eyes on all sides. 

The most unbelievable thing would be the kid being able to lift multiple grunts and jackals with just the wave of his hands. He forced them with some sort of mental prowess to float them mid air. They were holding on their necks as if being choked by something; it wasn't until the kid twisted his raised hand that the jackals and grunts had their necks snapped.

Weaponry, skills, powers of some mystical kind; yeah, the marine would just be endangering himself if anything. 

Inside Chief's helmet, "It's Zesrael, Chief. The child's name is Zesrael."

"You manage to hack this suit you spoke of off?" Chief inquired, still doubting that there's a suit that the kid is wearing. Unless his weird clothing is the suit itself, but he doubts it; no tech can be that advanced to where an advanced, military grade suit would be that seamless.

"Unfortunately– no, the suit is so hardwired that it's physically impossible to gain any sort of access unless the suit, or the wearer in this case, allows access themselves. Pretty sure the kid knows that I've been trying to get into his suit the entire time you've been fighting alongside each other," Cortana's voice constraints in annoyance, "doesn't help the thing is evolving with every attempted hack. It's even sending back cat pictures or… degenerative images of myself."

John just stays quiet, doesn't quite understand her pain.

"This time, it was a message. All it says is a single word: Zesrael. I assume it's his name."

The pod doors sealed shut as the pod came to life; moments later, they were launched into the void of space. Their destination: the ring.

–––––––––––––

(≧◡≦) 'Good, let's see how this goes.'

Zesrael stood in the middle of a broken hanger, all cleaned from the bloodstains and donning the crysis suit in its full glory. He hasn't quite reached the stage of being able to breathe in outer space yet. More like being able to hold his breath for long segments of time. He could've stayed using his hunter's clothing, but this was more of an aesthetics choice on his part.

Another thing he could've done is tag along with the three stooges, but he had something to try out. Being in space and being in an actual spaceship– or a Halcyon-class light cruiser in this case, he couldn't help but want his own. It would be inevitable anyway against that 'thing.'

But there's so much to choose from: Halo, Robotech, Gundam, Star Wars, Star Trek, and Mass Effect just to name a few. He can't help but smile upon forming his own fleet. Off in the distance, the rest of the detached covenant ships have arrived and have more than likely spotted the Autumn.

"You're in for one big Imperial surprise," Zesrael remarked.

The Autumn has finally made its descent into the ring, propelled even further by the gravitational pull. Before being pulled from the gravity of the ring, Zes jumped into the void of space. With a snap of his fingers, multiple warp–like portals manifested all around him. In doing so, his free shit counter reduced significantly due to the nature of what he's summoning.

'So the quality of the object or thing being bound to me varies in the amount of built up free shit tokens, good to know,' Zes took note.

From the portals came gothic ships of a grim dark universe.

'An Emperor and Retribution class battleships, accompanied by three Lunar class cruisers, 6 of sword and firestorm frigate class ships, and about two dozens of destroyers, corvettes– escort class ships if you will in simpler terms.'

Not even a moment later, all Imperial ships opened fire against the incoming covenant fleet. Stunned by the sudden arrival of unknown ships, their battle lines and ships took heavy amounts of damage as their shield couldn't tank the first volley of lances and missile/gun batteries. Starhawk Bombers, Shark Assault Boats, and Fury Interceptors from the Emperor class battleship intercepted covenant fighters and further damaged the now non shielded covenant ships. All while Zesrael floats in the middle of it all, arms out wide, head tilted back as if absorbing the chaos.

The covenant forces tried their futile attempts of firing back but the void shield on the Navis Imperialis ships remained true.

From the surface of the ring, Six, Four, and Chief could see the raging battle up above them. Some pieces of large scrap metal even crash landed all around the ring as more and more of the covenant fleet met their end. They even manage to see a glimpse of the Retribution class battleship ramming multiple covenant ships at once– just slightly lesser in size. 

Zesrael was also gaining a nice power leveling moment as the kills on the ships and the individuals in them were separate.

As the battle raged on, slipspace distortion began to appear around the small Imperial fleet. Which spawned more and more covenant ships over time.

'Hmm, they can hold but they certainly won't last… would 'rapid fire,' 'inner cooling,' and 'better flight capabilities' help my small– starting fleet? —Sigh, this is going to hurt. At least the words aren't too big or complicated this tim— ARHG!'

Zesrael's surface thoughts were interrupted as he permanently buffed his 35 ships. The pain wouldn't be that bad if he did the buffing one at a time, but the goofball tunnel visioned and decided to mass buff all 35 ships at once.

In quick decision making, he used a couple of his free shit tokens to gain [Pain Tolerance] [Masochism] and [Nerve Shielding], fused them together, and created [Pain Motivator]. As it's title says, the higher the pain, the more he's motivated. Similar to the rage or berserk effect yet different, the pain clears his mind as he can enter a zen–like state, prompting him to gain control of his body like never before. A prime target for a faction with the word 'Dark' being their first word in the name.

Now, instead of squirming and screaming, the pains are more of an uncomfortable nuisance– but he's never thought or cogitated clearer ever in this life.

From the ships to the skills, he's running low on free shit tokens; anymore and he'll have none for emergency situations. 

Be that as it may, a significant increase in THUD THUDs is vastly noticeable as the gun batteries, lances, and missile batteries were firing frequently at questionable speeds. With that taken into effect, inner cooling should deal with the overheating problem; and better flight capabilities… let's just say the battleship class Imperial ships are moving like light cruisers… maybe even frigate class ships. Something that big shouldn't be moving that fast and that maneuverable. We're talking full– maximum speed throttle, a sudden 90 degree turn– cue up tokyo drift music, that Emperor class battleship just drifted in space whilst firing their broadside cannons; effectively creating the first ever space drive by. Now take it into consideration what the actual frigates and escort ships– the smaller, more maneuverable ones– are like now that they had a significant boost in speed and handling

'Um… I'm more surprised that the crew in the ship just happen to know that their ship can just do that now– yup, haha, I'm not sorry.'

'Although, I'm going to need to touch down pretty soon. I can feel my lungs, they'll need air in the coming minutes.'

With his goal complete, he briefly entered his usual world before appearing at one of the crashed escape pods, leaving behind the space battle up top.

––––––––––––––

│

| Name: Zesrael Loren | Age: 7 | Gender: Male | Race: ??? | Lvl: 104|

| Title(s): The Ever Chosen￤Chosen Warmaster of 40k |

| Skill(s): Inventory￤Fusion￤Free Shit￤Omni Travel￤Personal Dimension￤Summoner+￤Language of the Chosen￤Vorpal Rampage￤Psionic Dread Pilot+￤Death Toll ￤Masterwork Genetic/Item Fabrication/Utilization￤Pain Motivator |

| Item(s): Chain Bolter (RWBY modification)￤Nano-Pilot suit (Hunter's Clothes)|

| Stats: | Stat Points: 3|

––––––––––––––

Plot Armor: 355.5

Free Shit: 34

––––––––––––––

│

│

| Faction: Imperial Guard | 

| Army: The Forgotten Martyrs |

| Requisition: 48,904/+1032 |

| Power: 13,345/+573 |

| Squad Cap: 93/147 |

| Vehicle Cap: 91/129 |

│

│

22x Martyr Squads

9x Wardens

7x Ogryns

11x Heavy Weapons Teams

Command Squad

Vindicare

3x Techpriest Enginseer

4x Culling Riders

3x Martyr Snipers

10x Commissars 

––––––––––––––

13x Chimera

7x Leman Black

5x Basilisk

2x Lightning

2x Thunderbolt

1x Marauder Bomber

6x Sentinels

3x Hellhounds

2x Hydra Flak Tank

│