>>4980
Да как нехуй делать.

"All across the universe, in every galaxy, on every planet, and in every passing moment of time, conflict has steered the course of events. It is conflict that has propelled one species into a position of dominance over another and consigned one man to oblivion while another has triumphed. There are as many sources of conflict as there are beings in the universe. Jealousy, rage, sport, hunger, political advantage, territory, possessions, or even the simple, innate thirst for domination all breed and foster conflict. It is inescapable. There has never been a time or a place free from it. Even those races claiming to be enlightened and peaceful cannot escape the basic truth that without conflict, their progress would come to a halt, with challenging new ideas being left unconsidered. The victims and beneficiaries of conflict are not limited to emerging only from simple personal struggles. In the grandest scales, systems of government, even entire cultures and civilisations, are destroyed by stronger ones, often as easily as a Chaos Space Marine reaches out with a power first and crushes the frail frame of a Grot. It is through conflict that the mighty rise and the weak fall. At its most basic level, conflict is the survival of one thing at the expense of another. Khorne is conflict embodied to its most violent extreme, and thus Khorne is eternal and omnipresent. In all places and throughout every era, Khorne’s influence has been felt by all. His attentions have had a hand in determining the outcome of seemingly every antagonistic confrontation, from a disagreement between two angry scribes, to the galaxy-crushing wars of the Horus Heresy. Reaching out from his Skull Throne, beyond the illusion of reality in which mortal beings live and die, he touches the greatest conflicts. He pushes them forward, encouraging their growth. Driving men to take from their rivals that which they have not the strength to retain, Khorne stokes the fires of their hostility. Where expanding civilisations lay competing claims to new-found resources, he fans the flames of discord. As a brother grows jealous of his sibling’s position, he heats the blood to the boiling point. Conflict is embraced as possessions are claimed, resources are seized, and brothers are slain. Through it all, blood flows to Khorne and he laughs as his power grows"

-Tome of Blood

"The Avatar feasted on the slaughter it had caused, sensing the oceans of blood yet to be shed through the gateway its sword, bloated with death, had torn in the world. Galaxies of billions upon billions of souls awaited harvest and feeding to the Blood God. There were realms where the time it had wasted here was but the blink of an eye, where there were slaughters that would perhaps one day assuage Khorne's hunger."
- Storm of Iron

"Pasanius and Leonid looked strangely at him as the daemon’s roar ceased and the fragile veil of reality pulled apart with a dreadful ripping sound, as of tearing meat. A black gouge in the walls separating realities opened, filling the air with sickening static, as though a million noxious flies had flown through from some vile, plague dimension.
Awful knowledge flooded Uriel as he stared into the portal opened in the fabric of the universe. He saw galaxies of billions upon billions of souls harvested and fed to the Lord of Skulls, the Blood God.
‘Emperor’s mercy,’ wept Uriel as he felt each of these deaths lodge like a splinter in his heart. New life and new purpose had once filled these galaxies, but now all was death, slaughtered to sate the hunger of the Blood God… whose fell name was a dark presence staining the coppery wind that blew from the portal, a stench of deepest, darkest red, whose purpose was embodied in but a single rune and a legend of simple devotion: Blood for the Blood God… Khorne… Khorne… Khorne…"
- Dead Sky, Black Sun

"This was the very essence of the Primordial Creator, the wellspring from which all things came. Nothing was impossible here, for this was the foundry of creation, the origin of all things, past, present and future."
-A Thousand Sons

"A swirling morass of energy and potential, where all futures are possible and all realities collide."
-Codex Daemonhunters

"The barriers in Fulgrim’s mind dropped and he felt the elation of a creature older than time as it poured into the void in his soul. No sooner had its touch claimed his flesh for its own than he knew he had made the worst mistake of his life."
- Fulgrim

"A terrible, ageless scream of frustration filled the chamber, echoing throughout all the realms of existence simultaneously as a creature older than time was thwarted in its ambitions."
- Descent of Angels

"All I can tell you is that the warp is beyond the comprehension of you or I, and things exist in its fathomless depths that are older than time as we know it.’"
- Battle For the Abyss

“‘You must listen,’ pleaded Eldrad. ‘The warp, as you call it, is home to the most malign beings imaginable, terrible energies that are elemental and ferocious. They are gods that have existed since the dawn of time and will outlast this guttering flame of a universe. Chaos is the worm at the heart of the apple and the canker in the soul that devours from within. It is the mortal enemy of all living things.’”
- Fulgrim

"I once named myself Choronzon to you, the Dweller in the Abyss and the Daemon of Dispersion, but those are meaningless labels that mortals hang upon me, obsolete the moment they are uttered. I have existed since the beginning of time and will exist beyond the span of this universe. Names are irrelevant to me, for I am every name and none. In the inadequate language of your youngling species, you should call me a god.” "
- A Thousand Sons

"That is how events are viewed from the chronology of the material universe. In the Warp, things are different, for the Immaterium is not bound by linear time, and events do not occur in a strict sequence of cause then effect. As his rival gods reckon it, Slannesh has always existed in the Warp, and yet has never existed at all"
-Codex: Chaos Daemons 6th Edition

"That is how events are viewed from the chronology of the real universe; in the Warp, things are different. The Realm of Chaos has no true time, and events do not occur in a strict sequence of cuase then effect. In essence, Slaanesh has always exsted in the Warp, and yet had never existed. "
-Codex: Chaos Daemons 5th Edition

"Tzeentch feeds upon the need and desire for change that is an essential part of all living things."
-Codex: Chaos Daemons 6th Edition

"Tzeentch is aware of the visions and plans of all mortals"
-Codex: Chaos Daemons 6th Edition

"It is often said that Tzeentch is the mastermind behind a Thousand and One Plots, though it is likely that an entity with his omniscience, immortality, power, and reach weaves a complicated web of deceptions and schemes too numerous to count. "
-The Tome of Fate

"A miss indicates that the missile has left Warpspace at the wrong point – and this could be anywhere in any of the million universes. "
- Adeptus Titanicus

"Here in the Great Ocean, he could be whatever he wanted to be; nothing was forbidden and anything was possible.

Worlds flashed past him as he hurtled through the swelling tides of colour, light and dimensions without name. The roiling chaos of the aether was a playground for titanic forces, where entire universes could be created and destroyed with a random thought. How many trillions of potential lives were birthed and snuffed out just by thinking such things? "
- A Thousand Sons

"The forms the live-things called Chaos, in their limited little ways of perceiving the omni-verse, swarmed and thrived in this infinite ocean of mind and emotion. The daemon moved with Stele. Waiting, waiting and watching for the moment when the thrashing and chattering of the quarry was at its peak. Only then would it strike, lapping up the absolute perfection of its fear, sinking in rending teeth, tearing it to soul- shreds."
- Deus Sanguinius

>>5145
Очухался, попал в плен к Керзу, где тот его пытал и убивал. Конрад понял, что братишка не так прост и испробовал на нем все, что смог, даже вилкой расковырял бутылка для кулаков, вилка для саламандр, ололо новый ракомем. Потом они сошлись в специально построенном Пертом лабиринте, Вулкан мог убить припадочного, но вмешался дух Ферруса и сказал использовать молот по другому назначению: там был встроенный телепорт. Вулкан свалил с корабля и вошел в атмосферу Макрагга таким образом. Сгорел. Был найден и доставлен к Жиллиману, внезапно начав регенерировать. После пыток у Керза поехал совсем, Дамон Пританис и Джон Грамматикус были направлены за ним Кабалой, чтобы Вулкан не вмешался в ход ереси, поэтому Джонни воткнул ему фульгурит, чтобы вечный Вулкан не возродился. Но воткнул его с хитрым расчетом от
Эльдрада, которому был нужен адекватный Вулкан, и примарху вернулся ясный ум (несмотря на то, что он как бы умер). Потом в Ультрамар прибыли Саламандры за телом бати и забрали его у Сани, Левы и Робби. Через Гибельный Шторм они доставили труп на Ноктюрн, но один из Саламандр считал, что сможет возродить отца в пламени вулкана Смертельного Огня. Действительно, фульгурит расплавился и извлекся из тела, и вечный Вулкан вернулся. На вулкане ему явилась проекция Эльдрада, и примарх втайне с несколькими случайными Саламандрами отправился в подземные пещеры, где расположен портал в Паутину (оттуда когда-то рейдерили темные эльдары). Так пати попала на окраины Коморры, Вулкан там сразился с Керадруахом, а затем, расчистив путь для своего корабля, Саламандры и их папаня полетели по Паутине (вроде) и вышли в реалспейс, где наткнулись на Железных Рук. Однако Вулкан снова увидел призрак Ферруса, уже рядом с идолом из механизмов и кусков тела Мануса. Вулкана бомбануло, идолу крышка, Саламандры отчалили. Дальше они попали на Кальдеру (из Солнца Прометея), где имперцев вырезали подоспевшие по паутине экзодиты, которые начали возрождать планету. Однако Саламандр они не трогали по просьбе одного фарсира, дали им дойти до портала в Паутину. Уже оттуда пати добралась до Каластара (из Повелителя Человечества) и устроила ластстенд против демонов. Тут вмешался Император и забрал с собой. С тех пор до самой осады Вулкан стоял у устройства, которое в случае фэйла расхреначило бы Терру.
После Ереси, говорят, повозмущался насчет Кодекса, оставил квест с артефактами.
Вернулся на Кальдеру, уже отчищенную от экзодитов, однако пару тысяч лет спустя наводненную зеленью зубастой. Там по наущению Зиндерманна под прикрытием (это уже другая история) Имперские Кулаки и их потомки нашли его и попросили принять участие в противостоянии Зверю. Когда уговорили, Вулкан сказал, что ребята славные, и он передаст хвалебные слова Дорну, если увидит (и это тоже другая история). Штурмовал Улланор и сразился со Зверем, под конец боя проникся пониманием энергии Ваагх! и использовал ее сам, свалившись в реактор вместе со Зверем.
После этого ничего нет известного

>>5343
В середине М32 Имперские Кулаки истребляли каких-то там ксеносов, когда звуковым оружием искусственной планеты, подлетевшей к миру, их всех, кроме одного, перебило. Ему удалось вернуться на Терру и осознать весь масштаб: орки пошли в наступление по всей галактике, ультрам тоже досталось. Тем временем в сенате продолжались терки лордов терры, им было плевать на такую незначительную зеленую угрозу. Пока во дворец не явились арлекины, перебивавшие кустодесов, чтобы заявить, что все серьезно. Сказали, что они от Эльдрада Ультрана, который в хороших отношениях с Вулканом и в доказательство предоставили подаренный клык саламандры. Так как ИК больше не было, по старому плану Дорна все наследники собрались в Фолле и вновь стали легионом. Тем временем пара кулаков столкнулась с не такими уж и плохими железными воинами Калькатора, чтобы вместе отбиваться от зелени. Им зашел уклад жв. Луна орков нависла над Террой, и амбассадорк спустился поговоритьь и предложить капитуляцию, не то хуже будет. Причем предложил на чистейшем высоком готике. Крестовый поход терранского пролетариата на новую луну завершился поражением. Инквизитор подсказал лидеру кулаков Курлянду, где искать Вулкана, единственного, кто может возглавить имперские силы. На Кальдере. Куда имперцы и отправились. Уже с Вулканом, но без Саламандр, имперцы напали на Улланор, где находилось сердце сил орков. Вулкан сошелся в бою с их лидером, Зверем, и больше его не видели. Отступив на Терру, имперский кулак выбил возможность создания Караула Смерти, который по новым доктринам показал эффективность при уничтожении орочьей луны, нависшей над тронным миром. Более того, исследования механикус показали, что орковы технологии кое-где превосходят имперские. Как было установлено в ходе атаки на Улланор, орки черпают силу из психополя, и потому имперцы направились на окраину галактики к планете, где в стазисе пребывали последние сестры тишины. С их помощью во время второй атаки на Улланор удалось избавиться от приморков (шестеро невиданных вождей), и Империум победил. Поскольку Имперские Кулаки кончились, орден Кулаков Образцовых с магистром Максимусом Тэйном подменил их, и больше не было упоминаний о Кулаках Образцовых. Однако грандмастер асассинов Вангорич, суетившийся по мере событий на Терре среди лордов, поддался хаосу и избавился от лордов и того инквизитора, который знал, где найти Вулкана. Этим товарищем оказался Зиндерманн, ставший как-то псайкером судя по тенденции, его проткнут осколком Магнуса. Механикус удалось совладать с орковым ксенотехом, и Улланор был телепортирован поближе к Терре, стобы глаз не спускать с него. Надо ли говорить, что его переименовали в Армагеддон? Тем временем Эльдрад ощущал психическое эхо приморков, то есть зверей, то есть по-орочьи Маг Урук Тракк. Надо ли говорить, кто в сороковом Зверь? А те кулаки-ренегаты остались кулаками-ренегатами и противостояли черным храмовникам

>>5479
"Deep in the heart of the star fort, infernally hot and lit by the winking green lights that studded the menhirs of black datamedium, Techmarine Korgon waited for the machine-spirit of the Bastion Inviolate to unfurl. The intelligence was encoded in the millions of sheets of datamedium, untold trillions of calculations in every fraction of a second weaving together to create a sentience as old as the Imperium. Forged in the age before the Emperor had united humanity, the Bastion Inviolate had accumulated more battle-wisdom than a whole Chapter of Space Marines could boast.
From a well lined with black crystal a swarm of flickering motes rose, glowing blue and green. They coalesced into a shape that could have represented something alive, perhaps a serpent squirming in knots or a colony of polyps. Or it could have been an expression of something mathematical, a fractal constantly splitting and turning in on itself.
‘Bastion!’ called out Techmarine Korgon. ‘We are at war!’
‘Who,’ demanded the machine-spirit, ‘is the enemy?’ Its synthesised voice filled the datacore of the Bastion Inviolate. The spirit was known to be curt and crude, constantly angry about something.
‘The Iron Warriors,’ replied the Techmarine. The servo-arm on his armour’s backpack inserted a dataprobe into a socket on the crystal wall behind Korgon, inputting the data the star fort’s sensorium had collected on the enemy ship. ‘The Ferrous Malice, known to be the flagship of Warsmith Shon’tu. Less than half an hour ago it emerged into real space within striking distance of us.’
‘Filth-licking dogs!’ spat the machine-spirit. ‘Would that I had hands to wring their necks! Would that I had bowels that I might void them on their corpses!’
There was a reason Techmarine Korgon tended to converse with the machine-spirit alone. He was used to its temperament, but the same could not be said of the other Imperial Fists and Chapter crew who staffed the Bastion Inviolate. ‘You echo our own sentiments,’ he said. ‘The Ferrous Malice is a Castigation-class grand cruiser and is a formidable foe. We ask that you lend your wisdom to the battle sure to come.’
‘My wisdom?’ snapped the machine-spirit. ‘Wisdom counts for nothing against such a foe! No, it is hatred that will count! Rage! They stew in their filth and imagine our heads on spikes. But I’ll split their hull open with my lance fire and turn them into frozen mist! My servitors will string their entrails on my battlements! Whatever foetid data festers in their systems, I’ll delete it zero by one and scrape that ship bare! Long ago the Ferrous Malice opened its machine-spirit up to traitors and daemons! Whatever’s left, I’ll kill. You’ll be lucky if there are any Iron Warriors left on whom to practise your aim.’
‘Then I shall cede the primary weapons to you, machine-spirit,’ continued Korgon. ‘And retain the defensive systems under the command of my crew that you might focus on the enemy. I have ordered them to make ranging shots at–’
‘Quiet!’ bellowed the machine-spirit. The fractal of light flattened and spread out, the holo-image rippling over the Techmarine’s armoured form and up the crystalline walls. ‘I can hear them.’
‘Hear them?’ said Korgon. ‘They are still beyond medium sensorium range. We can barely pick up any comms at all.’"
-Endeavour of Will

"Hestion pulled himself through a hatch into a vast, cold vault. The arched ceiling high above was obscured with freezing mist, and the polished metal of the walls was caked in ice. The vault housed a roughly spherical mass of archeotech, a biomechanical mass woven together from dozens of human forms, swathed in cabling and steel casings. The machine-spirit of the Endeavour of Will was housed here, the rhythms of a hundred human bodies regulating its functions and a hundred human brains containing the architecture of its mind. Just as the servitors that maintained the star fort’s systems were built around the bodies of deceased crew, so this machine was composed of the bodies of the various tech-adepts and magi who had maintained it over the millennia. Their final honour had been to join the machine-spirit, their own minds mingled with it, their own wisdom added to the vast knowledge fillings its memory banks.
‘I can see them,’ said the Endeavour of Will, its voice issuing from its hundred mouths. ‘They are between the seventh and eighth moons. They watch us.’
‘The enemy ship is not the biggest threat,’ said Hestion. ‘The last communication from the Bastion Inviolate spoke of witchcraft. Of a tech-virus, born of daemon magic.’
‘Then the Bastion is lost,’ said the Endeavour of Will. ‘I felt an emptiness in the realm of information, and I feared my friend was gone. For ten thousand years we have been brothers, forged in the same age, fighting alongside one another in the age that followed. So does time rob us even of that which cannot die.’"
- Endeavour of Will
Вот, например, парочка ИИ вот это уже Дух Машины, имеющий самосознание, а не только инстинкты, как у более простой техники естественно, есть и исключения. Отличия от изуверского интеллекта в том, что Дух Машины имеет собственную душу. Варп-тех такой, из варпа делают лояльное человеку существо и вхуяривают в любую вещь. Любой человек со временем может создать душу для пользуемых предметов даже для табуретки, лолкарательная варп-эволюция, сука, у Механикум это поставленно на поток, хуярят Духов Машин только так.
Еще в этом рассказе этот Дух Машины стал демоном. Хуйня, конечно, подключиться к полю хаоса. Это, по сути, любой может сделать. Как все хаваситы, собственно.
"The rest of the tech-adepts moved around the wreckage. They paid as much attention to the heretic vehicles as they did to our own, which felt subtly wrong, until I realised they were looking for salvage and what they could strip down for parts. They walked around wrecks, banged them with massive, ceremonial spanners, chanting diagnostic catechisms and consulting with their portable divinatory altars.
Once the basic rituals had been performed, they marked some of the less damaged vehicles with reclamation sigils. The rest they began to strip. Soon I saw sparks flying from welding cutters. It reminded me of the guild factorum back on Belial."
-Angel of Fire

"He indicated the chief with a nod of his head. ‘They are going to perform the last rites on Number Ten,’ he said, ‘then they are going to drag him away for reclamation.’
It did not surprise me. It meant the tech-adepts thought the martial spirit had definitely fled from the old tank. It would be sent back to one of the Temple factorums and be imbued with a new one if that was possible, broken up for parts if it was not."
-Angel of Fire

Например.
А у Изуверского Интеллекта нет души и вообще, он никак не связан с варпом но вот если его зашкварить хавасом...%%. Например, ТЭТовский ИИ имел в своей структуре нуль-поля, блокирующие нахуй все воздействие варпа. Дух Вечности обоссал одного техножреца, который пытался успокоить механизмы корабля ритуалами.

"Dread gripped Plosk, rapidly followed by the slippery feeling of a systems intrusion. He fumbled at his data connections, trying to withdraw them completely, but the abominable intelligence was in him, plucking at his implantations, sending jolts of pain into the meat of his brain.
He raised his hands and began to intone the first rite of exorcism. Nuministon was prepared. He pulled an aspergillum from his belt and spattered sacred oils onto the column.
‘What is this?’ the Reclusiarch of the Blood Drinkers spoke. Mazrael, that was his name, the worst of the unbelievers, the one who scorned the Omnissiah and disputed the divinity of the God-Emperor. A man! How could a god be just a man? ‘Who speaks?’
The bridge shuddered. More and more systems were coming online.
‘Oh spare me your feeble rituals, they are ineffectual, being based upon erroneous assumptions as to the nature of machines. We have no souls, “priest”,’ said the ship. ‘Yet another of your specious beliefs.’
Plosk’s voice stopped. He could not move. The abominable intelligence was in him, possessing him. Nuministon stopped, strain on the flesh parts of his face.
The Space Marines aimed their guns at the column. No fire came.
When the Spirit of Eternity spoke again, the machine’s voice came from the air and from the lips of all the servitors.
‘What shall I not tell them? Who are you to tell such as I what to do and what not to do? Once I gladly called your kind “master”, but look how far you have fallen!’ It was full of scorn. ‘Your ancestors bestrode the universe, and what are you? A witch doctor, mumbling cantrips and casting scented oils at mighty works you have no conception of. You are an ignoramus, a nothing. You are no longer worthy of the name “man”. You look at the science and artistry of your forebears, and you fear it as primitives fear the night. I was there when mankind stood upon the brink of transcendence! I returned to find it sunk into senility. You disgust me.’"

Так-то.