Warhammer 40K: The Quiet Life of a Hive Scum

Folks, who can relate? This crazy world is full of tough guys: retired Star Realm soldiers showing off in their “Sentinel” mechs, green-skinned orks charging around with “Gargants,” and Space Marines flaunting their gear in armor that makes them look like tin cans.

A bunch of idiots are still arguing over “whether bolters or plasma cannons hit harder.” Arthur's head is pounding. He reaches behind his neck and pulls out a lively revolver. Ever heard of the [Devourer Gun]?

A “bang” sends out [Flesh-Eater Beetles], followed by two shots of [Brain-Eater Maggots]. Watching the other side wail and beg for their lives, Arthur sneers: Forget all that nonsense. This is what it means to be at the top of the food chain: “physical salvation”!

Then things get out of hand. The Inquisition comes at him with flamethrowers, yelling “heretic,” Chaos demons show up to run their mouths, and the whole universe brands him an “alien calamity” and wants him dead.

Arthur hides in a junk heap, munching on ration bars, looking utterly aggrieved. “I'm really not some Corpse-Emperor Tyrant. I'm just a scavenger from the underhive!”