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The Warp (known by non-Warhammer fans who are still basement-dwellers as hyperspace 2: Electric Boogaloo) Anyways, they were already sailing through the stars aboard advanced starships, and due to how special, elite and mind-powerful they were, eventually started to go insane and gang-raping and bukkaked each-other, which eventually caused the fabric of the universe to shatter, the vast majority of the Gods of the Eldar to all die, the vast majority of the race to perish, and one of the Gods of Chaos, Slaanesh, was born in the hole in the fabric of the universe. Tens of thousands of years prior to the rise of man, the Eldar, an advanced race of aliens, who despite evolving millions of years earlier on a different planet, look exactly like humans with pointy ears. No doubt, in an attempt justify the fact that they are grown men playing with overpriced army men. Unsurprisingly, diehard nerds and Juvenile fanboys alike swear by its expansive and mature scope. That is to say: a clusterfuck of Pseudo-Scientific explanations and futuristic-sounding religious stories. Over the countless years of its existence the WH40K franchise has a large coherent and extended fictional universe. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for IN THE GRIM DARKNESS OF THE FAR FUTURE THERE IS ONLY WAR. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions.

But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from aliens, Heretics, mutants - and worse. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted worlds. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truly die. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Master of Mankind by the will of the gods, and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. For more than a hundred centuries The EMPEROR has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. 5.2 Those Who Have Escaped The Emperor's Justice, For Now.5.1 List of Those Who Have Known The Emperor's Will.

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because you didn't buy the 16th upgrade to your second series infantry 45 minutes ago.
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The game has also spawned two boring PC games in which you get totally raped by the A.I. Player-run meetups, however, resemble taking the school bus back in high school: a bunch of obnoxious fuckwits crammed into an uncomfortable space calling each other fags while a short, stubby person tries to get them to shut the hell up and sit down.
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A player could spend upwards of $600 of their parent's money on pieces and playing areas, all for the satisfaction of beating people who spent slightly less of their parent's money on their respective set of plastic toys.Ĥ0K players flock to events and conventions, usually taking place in hobby stores, video game shops, and other various nerd hangouts, and are usually well run and completely free of douchebags and faggotry. Warhammer 40,000 (aka Alt-Right Propaganda: Tabletop Game Edition) is what you see when you imagine what your teenage years would have been like without ED, friends, or 4chan.
