Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor
Chapter 399 - 400: Abaddon – It’s All Gone!

"My lord, a-according to the ship's positioning data… this is the location of our Legion's base…"

The Thousand Sons adjutant spoke with a trembling voice after a moment of silence.

"This is… Savagar?!"

Abaddon still couldn't believe what he was seeing.

He looked into the distance—only empty stardust and silence remained.

There was no sign of battle.

The Chaos Reavers and Chaos coalition forces described in the reports were nowhere to be seen. Even the Black Legion's garrison fleet had vanished without a trace.

The once ever-present, horizon-spanning space fortresses had completely disappeared. Not a single light remained.

Even the two massive gate-portals that marked the base's entrance… were gone.

Where are the people? Where's my gate?!

The Chaos Warmaster was struck by an overwhelming sense of loss.

Imagine returning home only to find everything gone—not just your furniture, but the very floors, walls, and even the front door ripped out and stolen.

Who could bear such a thing?

Even more so when this was the Black Legion's carefully constructed stronghold—the very foundation of his grand design!

"Can someone—ANYONE—tell me what the hell happened here?!"

Abaddon's lips quivered with rage. His fury radiated through the entire observation chamber, even stirring the nearby Warp-tainted energy.

Everyone remained silent.

This was far beyond anything they had anticipated. No one dared to answer.

Abaddon took a deep breath, trying to convince himself that this was just an illusion—that the Black Legion's base had been temporarily obscured by some anomalous spatial event.

Which wasn't impossible.

After all, the Eye of Terror existed at the boundary of realspace and the Warp. Sometimes, mirages did appear.

There had even been sightings of a golden sun shining down upon a holy Terra within this region.

Yes… this was just a bizarre illusion. It had to be.

Abaddon tried to calm his mind. It was the duty of a ruler to stay composed and rational.

But regardless of what this was, he had to find out what had truly occurred!

Even though this was his own Legion's stronghold, he didn't rush in recklessly. The scene before him was far too unusual.

This chaotic region was full of hidden threats—sorcerous warpstorms and deadly catastrophes lurking unseen.

He needed to proceed with caution.

Besides, the Omen-class Ark Fleet had been split into seven or eight groups to encircle this area from different directions.

They hadn't arrived yet.

In this situation, he couldn't afford to let his current fleet fall into danger.

If this truly was some horrific trap laid by the Chaos Reaver using strange powers, then outer support would be essential to break out.

Though Abaddon scorned the Chaos Reaver, he never underestimated him on the battlefield—the Reaver was still a Primarch.

Especially now, with the Chaos coalition mysteriously absent and his own forces limited.

All the more reason to act with restraint.

After securing the outer fleet, Abaddon personally led the Omen-class Ark and over a dozen Chaos warships into the stardust.

Yet even after entering the field, the surroundings remained utterly empty—no fortresses, no shipyards.

Still, he finally discovered signs of battle: scattered metal wreckage and drifting corpses of Chaos Space Marines.

And that only made his heart sink further.

These corpses and fragments belonged to the Black Legion. The attackers had even stripped the fallen warriors of their armor and harvested their gene-seeds!

A truth the Chaos Warmaster refused to believe was now glaringly obvious:

The Black Legion's stronghold… had been plundered.

The invaders were so greedy that they didn't just steal the space fortresses, shipyards, and forge facilities—they even took scrap from wrecked ships and looted the dead for resources!

This meant the Black Legion might lose the wealth it had spent millennia accumulating and face utter destitution.

It was even worse than when he had first retreated to the Eye of Terror after the Siege of Terra.

"No…"

Abaddon stared ahead, his obsidian form trembling with suppressed fury.

He told himself he must remain calm—only then could he handle what came next!

The Chaos Reaver didn't have enough ships alone to pull off a raid of this magnitude—there must have been other parties involved.

A chilling suspicion crept into the Chaos Warmaster's heart.

He could only pray that something had been left behind at the Black Legion's base.

But as the Omen-class Ark advanced deeper…

All they found was more emptiness, as though an entire star system had been stripped clean.

His heart bled.

Finally, deep within the territory…

Abaddon spotted the silhouette of a space fortress.

Several space fortresses were surrounded by Chaos warships, and faint flashes of battle could be seen.

—

Space Fortress Sector

The Tzeentch warband Revenge Brotherhood was currently engaged in looting the space fortresses, claiming what they deemed their rightful spoils.

This warband had been founded after the Great Heresy, with Thousand Sons veterans at its core. It boasted nearly a thousand Chaos Space Marines and even more cultists.

They had even corrupted a Crone World of the Aeldari to use as their homeworld.

During the Chaos coalition muster, the Greater Heretics had summoned several Tzeentch-aligned warbands, including the Revenge Brotherhood.

Unfortunately for them, they were delayed by a Warp storm en route and arrived late.

Still, they eventually made it to Savagar and managed to join the plundering of the Black Legion's base. They were awarded the rights to a few peripheral fortresses as compensation.

The problem? They were too late.

By the time they started looting, the other Chaos allies had already packed up and fled the crime scene.

Time passed.

The Revenge Brotherhood grew increasingly desperate, yet they couldn't bear to abandon the riches before them. These few fortresses alone were enough to fuel their ambitions for centuries!

After surviving several incidents—including a machine-spirit revolt and a munitions explosion—

They finally breached the fortresses and shut down their defenses.

On the surface of the space fortress, Tzeentchian Chaos Marines cheerfully draped enormous chains over the structures, preparing to drag them away.

"O Great Changer of Ways—what is that?!"

A sudden shout broke out.

Everyone looked up.

A massive abomination of a warship loomed in the sky, its size rivaling that of the fortress itself. The grotesque icon of the Black Legion gleamed ominously on its hull.

The Black Legion had returned!

Worse still, the Revenge Brotherhood's own nine Chaos warships had already powered up their engines—clearly preparing to flee.

The Tzeentchian Marines immediately abandoned their work and sprinted toward the landing zone, using their jump packs to cover the kilometer-long distance.

Time to run!

But halfway there…

Their landing craft whooshed away, heading toward the fleet.

"What the f***?! I'm not even on board yet!!"

They shouted curses, but could only watch as the ships disappeared into the void.

Then again, this was standard practice for Tzeentch-aligned forces—always betraying or being betrayed. Chaos and backstabbing were their favorite pastimes.

Had these Marines boarded first, they would've made the same choice.

The Tzeentchian warriors stranded on the surface looked at each other in despair as the monstrous warship barreled toward them.

They were finished!

"…Maybe hiding inside the fortress is our best shot…"

One Chaos sorcerer in broken armor murmured, "The Warmaster wouldn't destroy his own wealth. Besides, we might still have a chance to survive."

That's right…

The moment the Chaos scholar spoke, the other Chaos warriors suddenly realized—

They could still surrender.

The Tzeentchian Chaos Marines of the Revenge Brotherhood immediately sprang into action, dousing their armor in corrosive oil to blacken it.

They would pretend to be Black Legionnaires who resisted the raiders.

After all, the Black Legion was constantly absorbing new recruits from all walks of life. No one would question how they got here.

—

Aboard the Omen-class Ark

"Tzeentch, you f***ing bastard!!!"

Abaddon stared in disbelief at the Tzeentch warband brazenly looting his fortress. His fury surged to the heavens, and even his iconic topknot practically stood on end.

He knew Tzeentch was behind this!

The blatant pillaging by this Tzeentch warband was tantamount to cuckoldry for the Despoiler—his composure finally snapped.

"Destroy them! Pulverize those meddling bastards!"

Abaddon lost it, ordering the Omen-class Ark to charge at the fleeing Tzeentchian Chaos fleet. The weapons on the monstrous ship began to power up with devastating energy.

But before they could even give chase—

Incoming fire struck!

Several blasts from afar smashed into the Ark's shields, erupting into brilliant flashes.

One particularly crude blue missile managed to pierce the layered shields and slam into the hull, blowing apart an entire section.

Though the damage was negligible to the monstrous Ark.

On the throne of machinery—

"Greenskin bastards!!"

Abaddon growled upon receiving the report. Orks had breached the Ark's flank via boarding torpedoes but were swiftly exterminated.

He turned toward the direction of the assault.

There, in the distance, stood a lone fortress and a blue-painted ork flagship. The greenskins were looting the fortress.

And the earlier salvo had come from that ship.

A blatant provocation!

"My lord, scouts have located additional greenskin fleets—they're hauling off treasures from our base and have reached the edge of the Savagar system!"

The Thousand Sons adjutant reported urgently.

The orks had taken seven or eight space fortresses and parts of the shipyards—an unimaginable fortune for any faction.

Now, Abaddon had to choose—

Pursue the Tzeentch fleet?

Or chase the orks?

Abaddon glanced between the retreating Tzeentchians and the ork fleet laden with his Legion's stolen wealth and made his decision:

"Pursue the greenskins at full speed!"

He could settle with the Tzeentchians later. For now, the priority was reclaiming what the orks had taken.

The Chaos fleet led by the Omen-class Ark launched into pursuit.

Seeing this, the ork flagship panicked and ditched the fortress, fleeing toward the system's edge.

BOOM!

The Ark's main cannon unleashed a blast of apocalyptic energy.

But, bizarrely, the shot missed. It merely grazed the ork flagship's shield and tore through the void in front of it.

Soon after, the orks and their fleet did the unthinkable—

They plunged headlong into a raging Warp storm, the kind that would tear most ships apart.

This kind of warp maelstrom was avoided by everyone.

But the Ark, being a titanic Warp monstrosity, was unafraid of such danger.

Abaddon gave chase—

But found nothing.

The ork fleet had vanished, likely torn apart by the storm… or worse.

"Are these greenskin lunatics insane?!"

Before Abaddon could recover from his shock, a new report arrived.

The Tzeentchian warband, seeing the Ark chase the orks, returned and began dragging off the remaining fortresses.

And the reinforcement fleets arriving from the periphery were too late to stop them!

Abaddon stared into the churning Warp, then gave up the search.

His fury had reached the breaking point, with nowhere left to vent.

He swore he would annihilate the Tzeentchians who dared to return.

As the Omen-class Ark exited the warp zone—

Abaddon spotted the Revenge Brotherhood towing away his remaining space fortresses.

After confirming Abaddon was chasing the orks, they had brazenly returned to steal the fortresses they'd just fought over.

As for those warriors who blackened their armor to pose as Black Legion members?

They were backstabbed by their own comrades, stripped of all valuables, and taken prisoner—naked but alive.

Despite accelerating pursuit, the Chaos fleet was too late.

They only intercepted half of the Revenge Brotherhood's ships. The rest fled into the Warp with the fortresses.

Whether those ships were also betrayed remained unknown.

But one thing was certain—

The Revenge Brotherhood made an outrageous profit.

They lost a few derelict ships and gained massive space fortresses.

Enraged, Abaddon unleashed hell.

The captured ships were torn apart by the Ark, reduced to molten metal. Not even wreckage remained.

The Tzeentchian warriors' souls were absorbed by the Chaos sword and now suffered eternal torment.

But even that couldn't quench his wrath.

"All raiders… must pay a bloody price!" Abaddon roared, caught in a berserker frenzy.

From the information pouring in, he pieced together what had happened—

All the Chaos factions had betrayed him.

They had looted the Black Legion's base, stripping it of everything amassed over millennia.

Hundreds of space fortresses, shipyards, foundries, stockpiles, even embryos of new Omen-class Arks—all gone.

Only one tiny space fortress remained.

The betrayal of his fellow Chaos allies burned more than the theft itself.

He vowed to ignite a new war within the Eye of Terror, reclaim what was lost, and take revenge on the Chaos Reaver.

But then…

Unseen by all—

The blue ork flagship, under the cunning command of the Mekboy Ironsnekk, snuck back into the system.

As Abaddon focused on the Revenge Brotherhood—

The greenskins seized the last remaining fortress and vanished into the warp storm.

It was a finishing blow.

"It's all gone… EVERYTHING is gone…"

Abaddon watched as the ork ship disappeared with the final fortress, and his eyes slowly closed in pain.

It was as though all strength had left him. He collapsed back onto the throne.

The mighty Chaos Warmaster, the Great Despoiler—robbed blind, not even a bitter leaf left to chew on.

What a disgrace.

What a joke.

And it had all happened right in front of him.

He could already imagine the rumors, the mocking whispers of countless Chaos entities.

For the first time… he felt depressed.

His massive obsidian form slumped in silence on the throne.

Below him—

The Thousand Sons adjutant stood frozen.

Because just a moment ago, he swore he saw a single tear slip from the Chaos Warmaster's grim face.

"…Perhaps I know too much…"

The adjutant wished he could gouge out his eyes and erase his memories.

But he dared not move, not even breathe.

He simply stood there… pretending to be a wooden statue.

—

Gallium Forge World

In this neutral trade zone of the Eye of Terror, the atmosphere was wild and festive—like a holiday celebration.

In just a few weeks—

Many previously destitute Chaos warbands had suddenly struck it rich. They flooded the markets, ordering custom weapons—at least 80% new.

Formerly half-naked berserkers were now rocking full sets of gear and custom high-yield explosives.

At the same time—

Black market deals exploded. Space fortresses and ships were being sold in bulk.

Worse—

Some minor Chaos warbands, now fully resupplied, used Gallium's warp lanes to flee the Eye of Terror.

They sought greener pastures—or went to the Maelstrom to join Huron Blackheart.

Inside the Mechanical Palace—

Black Mechanicum Queen Karashia stood admiring a provocative portrait of the Devourer on the wall.

She smiled faintly.

That mysterious being had looted Abaddon and escaped unharmed, injecting a torrent of wealth into Gallium—and into her pockets.

"Where are you now…?"

Karashia murmured.

She had bought specific Chaos resources at discount prices, even subsidized the trade with her own rare materials…

But still hadn't heard back from him.

(End of Chapter)

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