Note: If you have never heard of Warhammer 40k, look at anything else. You will not enjoy this much.
Let me tell you a tale.
Once upon a time, a young internet user left his forum. He went in search of other forums, and found one. It was a Warhammer 40k fanfiction site. The Internet User was excited, and wrote up a fanfiction about the end of 40k and how something incredibly strange would happen after it. However, sadly, the fanfiction was destroyed when the site moved and the Internet User was sad. It had potential for something much more.
That internet user is me. This is the reanimated remains of a little known fanfiction I made called Zombie Guardsmen. It won't follow it completely, it'll just follow the basics. It's quite the odd story, I can tell you.
Brief explanation of the rules: Have you ever played a text adventure? This is kinda like that. You issue a command, and I try to fit it with all the other people's commands. These type of games usually have three outcomes: Everything goes insane, the thread dies and/or it becomes amazingly epic. If you attack someone or try to talk to them, I go onto random.org and set the true random number generator from 10 to 1. 1 means you fail spectacularly, 10 means you do it like a true guardsmen should. If you do the action 10 times, you gain a skill in it, which means it adds 1 to the roll. The max amount of skill is 5.
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You are Utius, Imperial Guardsmen. You are currently on your first mission, and are very very very likely to die soon.
Let me explain. Somehow, the Chaos Gods gained permanent avatars, along with the Necron Gods. The entire Imperium has been destroyed. Your regiment, along with the Space Marines, have been pushed back to a formerly undiscovered world at the edge of the Galaxy.
The Emperor is dead. Terra has been consumed by the Eye of Terror, that has been growing hugely, at this point taking up the top half of the galaxy.
There is no hope. There is no plan. The Imperium's last stand.
It shall be the other races' last stands too. The Tyranids have been possessed by Chaos, utterly destroying their hive-mind and forcing them to think for themselves, a task which they were not made for. Chaos has been running out of emotions and thus power, thanks to the massive amount of causalities that the Galaxy has taken. The Necrons' will lie dormant after this, satisfied with a job well done, after their Gods starve in a dead realm that once held Chaos in all it's horror. The Eldar have finally been pushed to extinction, of which only one regiment survived that is currently on this planet. The Orks have suffered massive deaths too, and the last Waaagh! shall echo throughout the lifeless universe. The Tau empire, peaceful though they were, have been wiped out, leaving only a few struggling survivors.
Everyone is going to die in a massive standoff with a gun to each other's head, serving their now pointless cause to the end.
No peace, no ceasefire, no final resolution. You and the rest of the entire Galaxy will die standing, serving a dead Emperor on his now destroyed throne in the soon to be dead Warp.
For this reason, you are terrified.
You are in a foxhole. A few miles away, Khrone and two Necron monoliths are attacking each other. You are sure you are in shock. You are surrounded by dead bodies. You are holding very tightly in your hands a Lasrifle. You are screaming very loudly.
What do you do?