Pain. A searing, all-consuming pain unlike anything he had ever felt before.
One moment, Alex Carter had been in his small apartment in the year 2020, staring at his laptop screen, absentmindedly scrolling through yet another Warhammer lore discussion. The next, he was drowning in fire, his very soul ripped from the fabric of time and space, hurled across an unfathomable chasm of existence.
Then silence.
His senses returned slowly, his mind swimming through layers of confusion and terror. He wasn't in his apartment anymore. He wasn't anywhere familiar. His bodyno, this wasn't his body was wrapped in warmth, surrounded by a soft glow that pulsed with power. He could feel energy coursing through him, an unfathomable might that sent shivers through his soul.
Then, it hit him. The memories. They poured into his mind like an unstoppable flood, overwhelming yet clear. The shamans. Their sacrifice. The birth of a being meant to guide humanity for eternity. And him he was in that body.
Alex Carter had become the newborn Emperor of Mankind.
His breathing did he even need to breathe anymore? was steady, yet his mind reeled at the impossibility of it all. He reached out with his thoughts, feeling an alien yet familiar presence within himself, a cosmic force that both shielded and empowered him.
"The power of time and space... it protected me. I am not just possessing this body, I amthis body."
The realization shook him. He was no longer the ordinary man he once was. He was the most powerful being in human history, from the moment of his birth. The body, still that of an infant, already pulsed with potential beyond comprehension.
He clenched his tiny fists, feeling the very threads of existence bending at his will. He was not bound by the ignorance of the original Emperor. He knew what lay ahead, Chaos, betrayal, the suffering of countless trillions. And now, with foreknowledge and power beyond measure, he had the chance to change everything.
The future of mankind had just been rewritten.
And he was the one holding the pen.
---
The world around him shifted. It was not the sterile, modern environment he had known, it was ancient, raw, untouched by the march of industry. A vast cavern stretched above him, its stone walls shimmering with the last remnants of power from the ritual that had forged his existence. Around him, the bodies of the shamans lay still, their life force spent, their final act of defiance against the gods of Chaos complete.
Alex no, the Emperor, blinked. He could feel everything. The tremors in the earth, the shifting winds above, the pulse of life beyond the cavern. His mind reached out instinctively, brushing against the thoughts of men and beasts alike, a flood of impressions filtering through his consciousness. He gasped, his newborn lungs taking their first breath in this world, even as his mind adjusted to a level of awareness beyond human comprehension.
"This... is real," he murmured, or at least thought. "This is not a dream. I am here. I am Him."
He flexed his fingers, tiny and fragile in appearance but brimming with hidden might. The sheer potential within his form was staggering, untapped, waiting to be shaped. He was more than just a man; he was a being of unfathomable strength, a force meant to stand against the darkness of the Warp itself.
Then, he heard them.
Footsteps. Distant but approaching. Voices, harsh and guttural, speaking a language his mind instinctively understood. Warriors, primitive yet fierce, drawn to the site of the ritual by the storm of energy unleashed moments before. If he were truly an infant, they would slaughter him without hesitation.
But he was no mere child.
Alex, the Emperor closed his eyes, reaching inward. Power surged, the protective force of time and space that had shielded him from oblivion responding to his will. He would not allow himself to be struck down before his journey had even begun.
The first test of his new life had arrived.