Reborn as Humanity’s Emperor Across the Multiverse

Shortly after the Dark Angels 1st Company completed their orbital deployment:

A force of 1,000 Astartes, 300 Lion Paladins (Honor Guard), and 10,000 Helljumpers had descended upon the streets of Vienna, now a battlefield of chaos and fire. Overhead, Pelican, Seagull, and Luna-class transports ferried additional auxiliary forces, totaling in the tens of thousands, into the fray.

At the same time, the 1st Company fleet, stationed in low orbit, unleashed plasma bombardments, decimating Vienna's defenses, including fortified walls and fixed artillery.

Leading the charge, Lion El'Jonson had landed near the eastern sector of St. Peter's Cathedral, his massive drop pod a harbinger of doom.

The resounding echoes of war—gunfire, explosions, and the roaring engines of dropships—shrouded the city. Yet, amidst this cacophony, the sound of Lion's measured footsteps reverberated like a drumbeat of finality as he strode unchallenged toward the cathedral.

In the opulent quarters of Vienna's upper echelon, nobles peered from their hiding places. Through narrow windows, they caught fleeting glimpses of the towering figure.

Lion El'Jonson, his five-meter frame clad in ornate power armor, radiated an aura that was nothing short of divine. His golden mane and finely groomed beard, coupled with his imposing stature, made him appear less like a man and more like a celestial being.

For those nobles steeped in dogmatic devotion to Heaven, his visage was unmistakably holy. The faint halo-like glow surrounding him, a side effect of his pure psychic energy, further reinforced this illusion.

To Lion, such fools were beneath contempt. These were parasites who lived off the labor and suffering of their people. There was no need to suppress the radiance of his psychic aura. Let their faith in a false Heaven be their undoing.

Some of the younger nobles, emboldened by their ignorance, emerged from their hiding places.

"Oh, my God! A true knight from Heaven!"

"Have you come to save us?"

"Lord, protect us from the invaders!"

Lion ignored their desperate pleas. His stoic expression remained unchanged as he approached the grand plaza before St. Peter's Cathedral.

Here, Vienna's most devout defenders had gathered.

An assembly of elite knights clad in shining armor and wielding greatswords, alongside battle nuns who had consumed the sacrificial flesh of cloned saints, awaited orders to protect their holy sanctuary.

Their faith was unshaken—until they saw Lion.

The sheer size and majesty of this armored titan made them falter. His appearance was eerily similar to the Heavenly Knights described in their sacred texts.

Uncertainty gripped their hearts. Was this giant a harbinger of their salvation—or their doom?

Lion, having reached the center of the plaza, surveyed his surroundings. His gaze, sharp as a blade, fell upon a group of individuals hiding behind the cathedral: the Pope and his entourage of bishops, exuding palpable fear.

"Found you," Lion murmured.

BOOM! BOOM!

In an instant, he accelerated, his towering form transforming into a blur of motion as he streaked toward the cathedral's rear garden.

The Pope and his guards had hoped to escape through a hidden passage in the garden. However, their hopes were dashed the moment Lion appeared.

The guards, enhanced by the best alchemical enhancements and imbued with sacrificial strength, fought valiantly. Yet, they were no match for a Primarch.

The battle was over before it began. Lion dispatched the guards with contemptuous ease, their augmented bodies crumpling under his strikes.

The bishops, trembling and pleading for their lives, were slaughtered without hesitation.

Only the Pope remained alive, now clutched in Lion's massive hand.

Lion returned to the plaza, the Pope dangling from his grasp.

The knights and nuns who had hesitated earlier now rallied, realizing the giant before them was no ally of Heaven.

"Defend His Holiness!"

"Kill the heretic!"

The defenders charged, brandishing blessed weapons and firing projectiles tipped with holy water.

But to Lion, their movements were sluggish, almost laughable.

He didn't bother drawing his sword. Instead, with his free hand, he delivered a series of precise punches. Each strike was so perfectly controlled that it merely incapacitated his foes without killing them.

Within moments, the knights and nuns lay unconscious at his feet, their armor dented and their bodies broken.

The scene grew eerily silent.

The noble youth, who had been watching from the plaza's edges, stared in stunned disbelief. To them, Lion was undoubtedly a messenger of Heaven, his strength otherworldly, his visage divine.

Their minds, bound by the binary beliefs of Heaven and Hell, could not comprehend the existence of a third power—the Imperium of Man.

Lion turned his attention back to the Pope, who was now weeping and begging for mercy.

"Spare me! I'll do anything! Please!"

The Primarch's lip curled in disgust as the Pope soiled himself again, the stench wafting through the air.

Even Lion, who had witnessed the horrors of countless wars, found the scene revolting. "Pathetic," he muttered.

He raised his hand, applying slight pressure to the Pope's fragile frame.

CRACK!

With a sickening sound, the Pope's head exploded like a ripe melon, sending a spray of blood and gore across the plaza.

The spectacle was too much for the sheltered noble youth, who vomited en masse before scattering in terror. Their cries of "Demon! He's a demon!" echoed as they fled.

Lion, indifferent to their panic, addressed his soldiers over his helmet's communicator:

"Secure the city. Gather all captives in the palace district."

The battle for Vienna concluded in less than 40 minutes.

The 1st Company, alongside auxiliary forces, swiftly crushed the city's resistance. The once-proud knights and nuns of Vienna were no match for the genetically enhanced Astartes, let alone the Lion Paladins.

Auxiliary troops and Helljumpers mopped up any remaining opposition, while biological constructs and automated drones were deployed to maintain order.

Meanwhile, Hera arrived aboard a Luna-class transport, disembarking with an escort of four Olympian demigods.

A vast crowd of prisoners—knights, nuns, and clergy—had already been assembled in the palace square.

Lion greeted Hera with his usual bluntness.

"Hera, please use your expertise to screen these prisoners. Identify those suitable for sacrificial rituals."

Hera, her crimson robes flowing elegantly, offered a slight nod.

"Very well."

As she extended her hands, a faint glow began to emanate from her fingertips. The Goddess of Marriage and Magic prepared to unveil the depths of the prisoners' faith, separating the devout from the pretenders.

For Lion and the Imperium, the next step was clear: to forge a gateway to Heaven—and wage war against its celestial denizens.

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