Warhammer 40k : John The Inquisitor

All eyes snap to the doorway as John Constantine saunters in, his usual smirk firmly in place. He's flanked by two towering figures, each clad in massive power armor. One wears fur-trimmed pauldrons, while the other carries a banner with Imperial iconography. Gasps ripple through the room. "Astartes," someone whispers, the word laced with awe and dread. Even the Generalissimo's bravado falters.

The room fell silent as John Constantine stepped forward, his voice sharp and deliberate. "I, John Constantine, am the judge personally chosen by the Emperor himself. In the name of the Emperor, I'm here to clean up the traitors and clear the way for the Imperium and all of mankind." His words cut through the tension like a blade, leaving the room in stunned silence. Ravel's eyes darted to Scheer, his expression a mixture of shock and disbelief. He turned to the gray-haired arbiter, whose unyielding gaze left no room for doubt.

"He's lost it!" Ravel thought. "Calling the Inquisition directly? Is he insane? How did he even contact them? Their methods aren't exactly public knowledge! Doesn't he realize they might deem him complicit and execute him too?"

The others seemed to share similar concerns, but none understood a crucial truth: true loyalists don't fear death—not their own, at least. Their lives belong to the Golden Throne and the Emperor who sits upon it. Death isn't a tragedy for them; it's a gateway to eternal glory. John's smile widened as he glanced at Scheer, who had his hand hovering over the grip of his gun, glaring at the gathered officials with the intensity of a star about to go supernova. "Legally," John began, his voice calm yet cutting, "I could execute you all right here and now. But where's the fun in that? I prefer games. Let's see who you really are."

"Our power comes from the sector government!" one minister protested, waving her hand dismissively. "Even an Inquisitor has no right to take that away!"

"You're slandering us!" bellowed the state church bishop, his tone a mix of indignation and desperation. "We've never betrayed the Golden Throne! This is heresy—your heresy!"

John's expression turned almost pitying, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Funny how you're still talking like that. Shall we clarify the situation?"

With a snap of his fingers, the heavy clunk of boots and the guttural growls of a monstrous creature echoed down the hall. Heads turned as two armored giants wheeled in a cage. Inside, a restrained beast roared and thrashed against its chains, each clink a foreboding note of chaos. Behind the cage stood four Space Marines, their armor adorned with swords, chain axes, and enough gravitas to make even the bravest hesitate. They took up positions behind John, a silent yet overwhelming assertion of his authority.

John's smirk grew wider as he addressed the room. "You know, there's something fascinating about Tyranids. Their hive mind is like a failsafe. If the leader node's in danger, the rest of the swarm will abandon all logic to protect it. Quite the wartime nuisance, but also quite handy in... creative scenarios." He snapped his fingers again. One of the Marines, his winged helmet gleaming under the lights, leveled his bolter and fired a single shot into the creature's head. The beast let out a guttural roar, rattling its chains. But the cage held firm, designed to contain far worse.

"Relax, buddy," John quipped at the creature, "This thing's held a Greater Daemon of Khorne. You're not going anywhere."

The room's occupants shifted uneasily, their eyes darting between John, the cage, and the snarling creature within. "You see," John continued, his voice smooth with amusement, "this little feature of Tyranid biology? It's an excellent interrogation tool. Let's see how well it works on you. Tony, let's begin."

The Marine named Tony pulled the trigger of his bolt gun, its click loud and deliberate. The creature's roar intensified, and the effect was immediate. One of the gathered officials, a generalissimo, began to twitch. His teeth sharpened into razor-like points, his uniform tearing apart as his body swelled grotesquely. He lunged at John, his clawed fingers aiming for the Inquisitor's throat.

John didn't flinch. He just smiled as Robert, another Marine, stepped in, his chain axe roaring to life. With a single swing, the alien generalissimo was split diagonally in half, his lifeless body collapsing to the ground.

The chaos was a spark to dry tinder. Every Tyranid-infected official launched into frenzied attacks. The elegant Minister of Internal Affairs moved with supernatural speed, evading lasgun shots with inhuman grace. But even she underestimated the Space Marines. Tony caught her mid-air, his massive hand crushing her skull in an instant. Bolter fire filled the hall as law enforcement officers joined the fight, beams of light tearing through the gene-stealer hybrids. Amid the chaos, a psychic battle erupted between John and the Astropath. She screamed as her mental assault was effortlessly deflected by John's shield, her cries ending abruptly when Olaf's eyes flared and shattered her mind. Bell finished the job with a bolter round.

When the dust settled, the hall was littered with bodies and broken chains. The governor, Ravel, cowered amidst the carnage, his face pale with terror. John approached, his smile cold and unnerving. He placed a hand on the governor's shoulder, leaning in with mock warmth. "You know, there's a saying back on Terra: 'Chaos is a ladder.' Some climb, some fall. Guess which one you are."

Before Ravel could respond, John turned to the remaining crowd. "Let me introduce Jenny Johnson, the rightful heir to this planet's governorship."

All eyes turned to the staircase, where a poised woman with gray-green hair descended. Her presence was commanding, her family brooch gleaming proudly on her chest. Ravel's face twisted in shock. "Niece! I didn't know you were alive!" he stammered. "If I had—"

"You would've killed me," Jenny interrupted, her voice calm but razor-sharp. "Just like you killed my family."

John handed her a gun, which she accepted without hesitation. She raised it, aiming directly at Ravel's head. "I gave up on revenge years ago. I thought I'd moved past it. But you know what? I've realized something."

She pulled the trigger. "I really enjoy revenge." Ravel's lifeless body hit the floor, and Jenny took a steadying breath. 

John stepped forward, addressing the room with a booming voice. "The traitors are dead! As of this moment, power is returned to its rightful, loyal owner. Governor Jenny Lyon Lane will lead you. Obey her, serve the Imperium, and prove your loyalty. Or else."

The officials nodded fervently, their fear palpable. Satisfied, John raised his voice again. "This isn't a victory yet. We still have battles to fight! For the Imperium! For the Emperor!"

The hall erupted in a roar, voices echoing John's rallying cry. "For the Imperium! For the Emperor!"