欧宝娱乐

“Win or lose, the gods feast on our deeds. A man pets a stray, and his small pleasure in the act of kindness feeds Slaanesh. A woman strikes her crying child and that awful moment of elation she feels feeds Khorne. A Munitorum drone considers suicide. Nurgle grows fat on his despair. A merciful strategist devises a plan for bloodless victory, and Tzeentch is content. The Word Bearers think the gods crave worship. But the gods care for nothing save filling their bellies with our sorrows. Intentionally or not, we are all meat for the beast. Even you.”
― Josh Reynolds, Fabius Bile: The Omnibus

“Deirdre鈥檚 consciousness flooded with unbidden images. Her foot on a man鈥檚 throat; her gun against a man鈥檚 head; her hand wrapped around power; her seat atop a throne of yellowed bone, a kingdom spread out below her in bloodstained wasteland. In return: offerings, worship.

Worship: apes eating their own young, faces smeared in meatjelly.
Worship: jackbooted soldiers marching over corpse-strewn battlefields.
Worship: a father staring at the severed hands and feet of his own child.

Inside her gut, an instinctive gospel heaved itself into her diaphragm. The scripture said there were two kinds of people in the world: predators and prey. All other truths were secondary. Deirdre could be a predator in exchange for worship. If not鈥�”
― S.R. Hughes, The War Beneath

“It was teeth and talons and fire and mustard gas, it was ghosts scorched into Hiroshima streets, showerheads pouring poison into tiled rooms, and a grasp that twined itself around his own bones, a tongue that licked for marrow in his own spine, and a hunger he could feel in his own stomach.”
― S.R. Hughes, The War Beneath