Datch, disguised as High King Kaligius, launched a bloody purge targeting chaos worshippers. This cleansing completely shattered the already fragile and twisted bonds between the noble houses of Dharrovar. Once, the knights of Dharrovar had lived by an unspoken iron rule: No matter how fierce the internal power struggles, if the Empire attacks, all must put aside grudges and stand united against the common enemy. This fragile bond was the last shackle keeping Dharrovar from utter despair.
But now—Kaligius commanded all forces to abandon the Imperial siege and focus instead on eradicating heretics. Like a burning blade, this order severed the final bonds holding Dharrovar together. Trust, built on shifting sands, crumbled instantly. Suspicion spread like a plague, infecting nobles, generals, even common soldiers. Who truly swore loyalty? Who exactly were these heretics the king spoke of?
Out of long-ingrained fear for royal authority, the majority still obeyed. Across the land, the blood purge began. Towns tainted by Nurgle's pox became ruins beneath the cannons of Knight-Mechs. Camps that harbored filth were burned by their own allies, all in the name of purification. Even battlecruisers at sea turned on their sister-ships—just for bearing Nurgle's mark.
Nobles and generals devoted to Nurgle did not stand idle. They struck back with brutal reprisals, targeting their enemies with equal fury. In true war, truth no longer mattered. Everyone unleashed firepower to survive or gain a further advantage. Communication channels buzzed with malicious insults and frantic gunfight reports over resources and territory.
Dharrovar collapsed into chaos. War raged everywhere.
Without outside intervention, the Mandrakor House would be destroyed by civil strife, before the Empire even needed to lift a finger.
High Queen Kaligia, sensing something was terribly wrong, hastily mobilized her army and rushed back to the capital, desperate to find her brother.
"Sister, the cleansing of heretics is Tzeentch's will. If you wish to confront me, leave your army outside and come to me alone."
Upon arriving in the capital, Kaligia's request to see her brother Kaligius—her husband as well—was granted only if she entered the city alone. Otherwise, she'd be deemed a traitor. After deep thought, ignoring her advisors' and maids' pleas, Kaligia chose to leave her troops camped outside and entered the city with just a handful of guards. After all, Kaligius wasn't only her brother, he was also her husband. She couldn't believe he'd ever harm her.
But the sight that greeted her left her stunned.
The once-magnificent capital was mired in chaos. Heavily armed soldiers violently suppressed any outcry against the king in the streets. Enforcers loyal to the king broke into civilian homes and noble estates. Anyone accused of heresy was dragged out—executed on the spot, or burned in the streets and plazas.
"Has my brother gone mad?"
Kaligia knew Kaligius had grown more paranoid and suspicious lately, but she never imagined he'd orchestrate something of this scale. To save what was left, she had to see him—immediately.
But as she approached the palace's core district, a squad of fully armed royal guards blocked her way, their cold eyes and laser rifles leveled at her, the highest authority in the land.
"By His Majesty's order: Kaligia stands accused of conspiring with foreign foes and plotting rebellion. Apprehend her immediately—execute on site."
The captain read the order without a hint of emotion.
Kaligia was speechless—her delicate features went deathly pale in an instant.
"What? You want to kill me? There must be a mistake! Let me speak to him—let me ask him myself!"
How could Kaligius—the man who'd shared her secrets, pledged his eternal love—order her death? Could love truly vanish so completely?
"His Majesty refuses any audience. He commanded your immediate apprehension and execution the moment you entered the city," the captain replied coldly, signaling the soldiers forward.
Despair, freezing and sharp, gripped Kaligia's heart. Betrayal stung like an open wound; fear of abandonment and anger at being denied even a meeting with him raged within her.
Just then, a furious shout echoed:
"How dare you turn your weapons on the High Queen?!"
Torian Kommodar, leading a band of rebel nobles, burst onto the scene with their own guards, opening fire on the palace soldiers without hesitation—unafraid of charges of treason. The captain and many guards fell under their guns. Torian Kommodar swiftly rescued Kaligia, spiriting her to safety and delivering a terrifying truth:
"Your Majesty, our king was assassinated long ago. The one now on the throne is an impostor."
"What?!"
Kaligia was overwhelmed—her pupils contracted sharply.
"Then…the order for my death wasn't from my brother and husband after all?"
"Indeed, Your Majesty," Kommodar nodded. "My chaos sorcerer consulted Tzeentch for a revelation and caught a glimpse of the truth!
The real Kaligius is long dead. The one giving the orders is an assassin sent by the Empire under deep cover. He started this massacre to have us destroy ourselves—to doom the Mandrakor House.
You, as royalty, must rise up. You must end this and restore Mandrakor's glory."
Kaligia's confusion and sorrow blazed instantly into fierce desire for revenge. She'd believed Kaligius—that he'd abandoned her; now, it turned out her brother and lover had already been murdered. And the assassin was still trying to kill her!
"Take me somewhere safe," Kaligia ordered, voice icy and resolute.
"Gather all loyal to the Mandrakor name. We will kill the false king. We will avenge my brother."
Seeing their High Queen's resolve restored, Kommodar and the other nobles cheered.
"For vengeance! For the king!"
Under their desperate protection, Kaligia broke through the blockade, escaping the mad capital. In hiding, she used her royal lineage and fame to rally disaffected nobles and generals. Many quickly pledged their banners to "support the rightful ruler and slay the false king."
Leading from the front, Kaligia climbed into her own orange-painted Tyrant-class Knight-Mech, armed with heavy melta and explosive cannons, and led her army. Her three most loyal maids followed in their own Knight-Servitor Mechs, ever her shadow-guard. Under Kommodar's command, a fierce phalanx of Knights and nobles powered their own mechs, forming a thundering river of steel, advancing straight for the capital.
Many houses joined Kaligia to topple the tyrant king. Yet some remained loyal to the High King, denouncing Kaligia and her followers as traitors. Soon, massive mech battle erupted outside the city, explosions shaking the earth, the sounds of war filling the air.
The capital, once the symbol of Mandrakor glory and rule, became a battlefield for giant steel monsters. Knight-Mechs' roars were deafening, explosions swallowed once-beautiful buildings. Chainsword and power claw ripped through heavy armor. Collapsed towers and palaces buried the dead of both sides; the streets were clogged with wreckage and bodies.
Blood flowed like a river, soaking the war-blackened ground. This battle dwarfed any that had ever been fought with the Empire.
Despite staggering losses, Kaligia's punitive campaign smashed the king's forces. Breaking through the final defense line, her army arrived at the ruined, smoldering palace. Inside, the throne room was eerily quiet.
Kaligia, surrounded by her trusted knights and Torian Kommodar, entered the hall. Kaligius sat atop the throne, gazing gloomily at his sister.
"Who are you? Where is my brother?"
Kaligia's face contorted with anger and grief.
"Am I not your brother? Dear sister, have you forgotten even my face?" Kaligius replied mildly.
"Shut up, liar!" Kaligia shouted.
"Don't speak to me as if you're my brother. Show your true nature. Now!
Tell me where my brother is. If you speak quickly, you can die without pain."
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Kaligius began to applaud, slowly and mockingly.
"How touching—the pure bond between siblings. Your brother is dead, of course. But you'll be seeing him soon…"
At this news, Kaligia nearly collapsed—all strength draining from her limbs. Her maid only barely caught her in time. After a moment, Kaligia drew her pistol. Steeling herself for vengeance, she aimed at the false king.
Kaligius, unfazed, only laughed—a high, unsettling sound that echoed through the empty hall. Everyone looked on in confusion as he softly clapped his hands.
Suddenly, doors to an antechamber opened. Two soldiers dragged a bloody, battered prisoner into the light. Forced to raise his head, the victim's tortured face was still recognizable—it was none other than the true Torian Kommodar.
Kaligia's pupils widened, breath caught in her throat. If this dying man was the real baron Torian Kommodar then… Who had been helping her—giving advice, fighting at her side?
High Queen Kaligia turned in disbelief to the Kommodar standing beside her. He gazed back with a mocking smile.
"Your Majesty, the final act begins."
Terror swept the hall as Kommodar's body rippled and twisted like water. Fine noble clothes and disguise washed away like fading paint. Where he stood now was Astartes—clad in gold and red power armor. Now Datch, wearing a garish clown helmet and exaggerated grin.
Datch had captured the real Kommodar long before, handed him over to the Dark Angel Mordachi for "gentle" handling, and extracted every secret. Then, Datch had the Changeling take Kaligius's place on the throne. Meanwhile, Datch himself impersonated Kommodar—inciting the nobles into an all-consuming war.
"You…"
In an instant, Kaligia understood everything. The so-called divine revelations, the loyal baron's help, the war to rebuild the kingdom—it was all a brilliantly planned conspiracy. She and her followers, and the remaining Mandrakor loyalists, had all been lured into a death trap. And the orchestrator was none other than the clownish conspirator before her.
"A plot! It's all a plot—run for your lives!"
With her dying breath, Kaligia cried out to her supporters, their own faces twisted in shock by the truth.
But it was too late. Shadows around the throne room stirred—as Imperial loyalist warriors, long in hiding, burst forth. Led by the Astartes' main force from Sanctus Wall and local rebel elites, they surged in. Bombs, lasers, and plasma beams wove an instant web of death.
The slaughter began and ended in a heartbeat. In a single attack, every traitor fell.
The Changeling floated into the air, watching with rapt, cold fascination as the spectacle Datch had orchestrated played out to its fatal climax. Like a perfect theater performance, it even applauded with grace.
Kaligia was cut down by las-fire, collapsing onto the cold floor, her life draining away with her blood. With the last strength she could muster, she tried to crawl toward the applauding spirit—her eyes filled with rage, confusion, and despair.
"Why…why does the mighty, ever-changing Master allow this…?"
Blaming it all on Tzeentch's will, the wretched queen's life ended as a loyalist soldier strode forward and fired, ending her torment and ensuring she'd never know the truth.
"How delightful," Datch said, surveying the carnage with satisfaction.
"Buying this Warhammer universe for 2,999 $ is a real scam."
By accident—or perhaps perfect design—Datch had stumbled on an entirely new way to "clear" the Warhammer game. The world, he realized, wasn't just about fighting and slaughter. Strategy, cunning, and brains counted just as much.
All rebel nobles and generals from the palace raid were captured. Datch reused the clay to disguise himself as Kaligius, while the Changeling assumed Kaligia's appearance. Together, they appeared atop the city wall—broadcasting to all survivors through the loudspeakers:
"After so much conflict, we abandon Chaos and once again pledge loyalty to the Empire. As brother and sister, we surrender to the Emperor."
In "self-punishment," they toasted themselves with three cups of wine and declared the matter closed.
This speech stunned the surviving, terrified rebel soldiers and nobles. Confronted with their ruined city and the mountains of corpses—hearing such a casual broadcast, absurdity and exhaustion overwhelmed them.
So many had died; the entire world reduced to rubble. Families, relatives, comrades, all lost—generation after generation in this war with the Empire and internal strife. Some nobles were left utterly alone. It was true misery.
Yet now, those "ruling siblings" wriggled out unharmed and even planned to surrender, to pledge loyalty anew.
The surviving nobles felt utterly betrayed. Their fury reached its peak.
Someone on the spot cursed eighteen generations of the Mandrakor House.
Some went so far as to dig up the ancestors' graves—casting out their bones in rage. Flags and medals that once symbolized glory were thrown into toilets in disgust.
The nobles of Dharrovar lost every shred of cohesion—and even the will to live.
Datch's scheme had been far too cunning.
Humiliation and despair drove the nobility to the brink of madness. With the Empire's counterattack looming, they no longer wished to resist.
There was nothing left to say—only a desperate wish for quick death.
The Imperial army, long stuck on the Nachmund Gauntlet, finally claimed victory—regaining control of the entire planet Dharrovar.
The Dark Mechanicus Omega-Threx, the architect behind the world, was stunned by the news that Dharrovar had fallen back into Imperial hands. Only recently, everything had seemed in his favor—how did the Empire overturn everything in just days?
"Are they just playing around here?!"
…
With the world of Dharrovar's Knights retaken, Datch received notification of mission success:
[Congratulations! Mission complete: You helped the Darok Knights win over the resistance.]
[Rewards: EXP +1500, Points +1500, Reputation +150, World Editor*1]
Datch checked his in-game inventory and found the new item—World Editor. Selecting it, a translucent, hi-tech user interface appeared before him—it was essentially a "god simulator" with a custom skin. Datch could adjust terrain, climates, world rules—anything, as long as he had the points for it.
As he gazed at the editor, an idea sparked in his mind:
"Isn't a Terra without oceans, forty thousand years from now, a betrayal of all human ancestors? Terra needs its oceans back."
Without hesitation, Datch activated his teleport gun, set the coordinates for Terra, opened a portal, and strode directly through.
When Ba'stien and the other Imperial heroes came looking for Datch—to discuss certain matters—they discovered he was already gone. They felt a deep regret, unable to thank him in person.
But his great deeds would never be forgotten.
When Dharrovar was rebuilt, a statue of Datch was placed beside the Emperor's.
Even the Changelings were pressed into service as his attendants at his feet.