Year seven has come. As I look around myself for changes, I am surprised. Mhm. Mhm. Oh! How lovely! I got a new patch of mold. A true joy.

I've gotten no new guns or other such things, but when the Plasma gun finally ran out of ammunition, Karros gave it back! So, I've got about a fifth of a plasma gun blueprint. While the melta is nice, and it is extremely effective, it has limited use exept in close range. And while that isn't bad, per say, I wouldn't mind some ore ranged options.

I wonder what I could do with the ammunition for my weapons. If I recall correctly, a Shard rifles ammo can, in fact, poison people. I wonder what I could do if I got an effect like weapon. If I recall correctly, the dark eldar have many such things, both melee and ranged. I wonder what would happen if I ate a sword with an affect... could I apply it to my claws? Something to think about.

I began sharpening my claws. While I could start building more weapons on myself, I still prefer to keep the look. Things haven't degenerated so badly yet.

But I feel it. The warp ripples. Soon, once someone makes a mistake or starts something deliberately, the dysjunction would begin. It would be my only chance.

I've thought about it deeply over the last few years. Why do I keep the eldar and marine in my confidence. The marine, I guess it's because I'm still a loyal servant of the emperor. His core beliefs, which I grew up with, I truly believe in. Along with my House, I grew up in the ideas of chivalry, honor, and loyalty.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

The problem was, my first life. I knew what the imperium has degenerated to. I also knew, that there was yet a chance for humanity's survival. Perhaps they even had room to thrive. But not me. Im... lost to my past glories.

This gives way to helping the eldar. While I will always support humanity above all, knowing what I know, and what is to come, I can't help but cling to an idealistic notion. That all species born of this galaxy are sacred. There are limits, of course, but it is the broad idea.

If my eldar friend is truly Yvraine, she might just be the one to truly get this ball rolling. And here I am, with her in her most formative years.

I hope to get her to agree with my ideals. But, this galaxy is cold and cruel. It will take time to truly foster peace. And, for better or worse, I can't help.

I am not the hero, not the savior. I can only hope the truly important players in this great game care enough to spare a moment for me. I have little faith, to be truthful.

Humanity rots, the eldar lie dying. The tau, naive and young. The necrons, lost in their delusions. The orks, too savage. And the tyranids... one of the true dangers. If the nids don't kill us all, it will be orks. Then necrons. Then tau.

But what choice do I have but to protect the species that grew me? Sigh. I'm thinking too far ahead. I first need to get out of Commorragh. Then... I will risk myself to the mercy of the Ultramarines. Joy.