The idea of a second chance is good—a new world, a fresh start, a place to live without regrets. If you can escape to some fantasy world, it could be a great start.
But restarting in the grim darkness of Warhammer?
That's not a second chance. That's just suffering.
Rhen was gone. Now, there was only Luthar.
Born into the Imperium of Man, where life was nothing more than fuel for the war machine.
He had a father—a Tech-Priest. He had the system. With those two things, survival was possible. Maybe even success.
But survival wasn't enough. Any success was useless in this nightmare—any meaningful research was a crime for a Tech-Priest. So, any research he did in secret he never made public.
As for the chaos The system had suppressed his memories as a safeguard against corruption, shielding him from the Warp's influence. The system has also tried to protect his emotions; that was enough. Enough for him to still dream, a simple dream. A "normal Isekai experience, which he always desires.
So, he made a choice.
He stole knowledge, scavenged resources, and built a machine.
A portal—his one and only chance to leave this cursed galaxy behind. A place where he could just do his research. And maybe, just maybe—find a few beautiful girls.
The lab was cold and dimly lit, the glow of cogitator screens casting flickering blue light onto the metal walls. Servo-skulls hovered in the air, their red optics scanning the workspace, mechanical limbs twitching as they assisted in calibrations. The scent of machine oil and burning incense mixed with the sterile tang of recycled air.
The fortress trembled as explosions ripped through the corridors.
Klaxons screamed. Smoke seeped in through the reinforced doors, thick with the scent of burning promethium.
The loudspeakers crackled to life.
"Heretek. By order of the Fabricator General, you are condemned. Surrender, and you will receive the Emperor's mercy."
Luthar ignored the voice echoing through his lab.
His scarred fingers moved fast, inscribing final data-runes and adjusting dials. The red glow of his single mechanical eye flickered in the dim light; the other—still organic—strained from exhaustion. His robes, tattered and stained, smelled of incense and metal, the long hours of work evident in every frayed edge.
Beneath the hood, his face was gaunt, older than his sixteen years. Not from age, but from relentless work, sleepless nights, and the weight of survival. His skin was rough, worn from oil and flame, and though half-hidden behind his mask, the sharp lines of his jaw hinted at what exhaustion had taken from him.
He had a few seconds, and it was enough.
A servo-skull hovered closer, running final checks.
Tools? Weapons? Blueprints?
Everything is secured inside system space.
Everything except one last thing—the reinforced metal container. Unlike the rest, its contents couldn't be stored.
Inside were servo-skulls and genetic samples taken from the Mechanicus' archives.
His servo-claw extended, tearing the central cogitator from its connections. Sparks flew, flickering against his robe as he initiated the lab's self-destruction sequence.
A warning flashed across the monitors.
[Core Meltdown Imminent.]
The lab doors shuddered.
Luther climbed onto the circular platform at the heart of the machine.
At that moment, the doors burst open.
A squad of Skitarii stormed through the breach, their movements unnervingly precise. Cybernetic optics locked onto him.
"Fire."
—but it didn't matter.
A rift split open before him, the very fabric of reality distorting under the strain. The air twisted, rippling with an eerie glow as alarms blared in protest.
The portal was unstable, untested—but functional.
Luther wasted no time. He heaved the metal container into the portal.
Then, with a final breath, he jumped into the abyss.
The squad of Skitarii behind him was no longer relevant—
As the entire lab exploded.
As soon as he left the Warhammer world, the system notified him.
[Dimensional Travel Successful.]
A rift tore open in the air, twisting the fabric of reality with an eerie hum. A massive metal container— covered in intricate Mechanicus markings—was the first to emerge with a heavy thud.
Then, a second figure followed.
Luthar's vision shifted erratically as he was expelled from the portal, his senses overwhelmed by the sudden transition between dimensions. The feeling was both crushing and weightless—existence folding in on itself before violently snapping back into place.
He landed hard, his boots sinking into soft earth.
The distant sounds of wildlife barely registered in his mind He exhaled slowly as system stop suppressing his memories
His electroos flickered to life and started adjusting to the new world while scanning the area for threats.
He turned his gaze deeper into the forest. Then, without hesitation, he moved forward.