Reborn as Humanity’s Emperor Across the Multiverse

After nearly a millennium of corruption and decay, Jerusalem had completely fallen.

There was no semblance of "normality" left here.

The ground, the buildings, and even the sky had been transformed into grotesque, abominable forms.

Some structures were engulfed in living flesh, covered with writhing tendrils, while others bristled with jagged fangs, bone spurs, and clusters of eyes that induced an overwhelming sense of dread in any observer.

Even the thick, overcast sky teemed with tentacles, jagged protrusions, and pulsating, irregularly shaped eyes.

For ordinary humans, gazing upon this nightmare would shatter their sanity.

Simply locking eyes with one of these unnatural "demonic eyes" would cause an individual to fall under Hell's thrall, slipping into a state of self-indulgence and delusion.

Only the most resolute dark believers, adhering to the purpose of their "Dark Pilgrimage," could cross the Hellgate, stand before the Lords and Archdemons of Hell, and gain official recognition—transforming into something far more powerful and monstrous.

However—

Bang-bang-bang!

Whoosh—BOOM—!

The sudden arrival of two Thunderhawk gunships shattered the desolate silence. The craft landed on the corrupted ground, their hatches opening to deploy Captain Garan Crowe, Champion Aldemo, and forty company guards.

Without hesitation, they unleashed suppressive fire on the Fallen Knights and infernal creatures in the area.

The Thunderhawks, having completed their drop-off, lifted off again and began providing close air support, raining down rotary bolter fire, metallic hydrogen missiles, and plasma cannon rounds.

The Fallen Knights and Hellspawn, who had never expected any "humans" to dare breach this cursed place, were caught entirely off guard. They struggled to organize an effective counterattack.

Garan, Aldemo, and their company guard were neither ordinary soldiers nor dark pilgrims seeking Hell's blessing.

As inheritors of the Emperor and Primarch's genetic seed, they possessed a high resistance to Warp corruption, let alone the diluted and localized effects of this Hell dimension.

The grotesque and chaotic surroundings might have unnerved them at most, but they remained unshaken in their resolve.

Following closely behind Garan was Selene, a sapient AI. Immune to the influence of corruption due to her lack of a soul, she carried a high-powered plasma pistol but refrained from firing. Instead, she used her electronic eyes to scan and document everything around her.

Her analysis suggested that while the Hellgate and its surroundings appeared fearsome, they were functionally similar to the area near the Bloodied Wall—merely amplified by prolonged exposure to Hell's miasma and corruption.

The Fallen Knights, monstrous Hellspawn, and twisted living structures nearby were stronger than their counterparts at the Bloodied Wall, but not insurmountably so.

This explained why only Holy Knights dared venture here. Even seasoned knights and nuns with extensive combat experience could not withstand the Hellgate's corruption, let alone the intense heat radiating from it.

For Garan and his team, however, years of interstellar warfare and extensive genetic augmentation rendered the Hell dimension's effects negligible.

Within minutes, their heavy weaponry and the Thunderhawks' firepower brought them to the foot of the Hellgate.

The gate itself was an awe-inspiring yet vile construct. Its towering sides were made from countless human bones, fused into grotesque, pulsating structures. The gate's center burned with intense flames, radiating waves of heat so oppressive that even their power armor and combat suits could barely mitigate it.

Selene, trailing slightly behind Garan, scanned the gate and its surroundings with her electronic eyes.

Her analysis revealed that the Hellgate was not merely a portal—it was a sentient construct. Its consciousness bore a surprising resemblance to that of an advanced artificial intelligence.

"Selene," Garan called, turning to her after ensuring the immediate area was secure. "You volunteered to advise us. Tell me—if we step through this flaming portal, will it take us directly to Hell? Or will we all perish?"

Selene paused briefly before replying, "This gate likely operates like an advanced AI. It will scan anyone attempting to cross, assessing whether they meet the requirements to enter Hell.

"It appears to be a form of bio-technology, not unlike the Pure Blossoms cultivated by the Emperor using his psychic energies. However, the power of the Pure Blossoms far exceeds that of this gate.

"If we were to plant a Pure Blossom here, it would gradually assimilate the Hellgate and turn it into an asset for the Empire."

Garan frowned beneath his helmet. He hadn't considered bringing one of the Emperor's "divine artifacts" on this mission, focusing instead on more conventional preparations like ammunition and gear.

To his surprise, Selene retrieved a shimmering, crystal-like peony radiating soft golden light from a metallic container at her side.

Kneeling, she planted the Pure Blossom into the corrupted ground.

Immediately, the surrounding pustules and bloody growths began to wither and decay.

"Well, aren't you well-prepared, Selene," Garan remarked. Yet he couldn't help but notice how slowly the Blossom's purification was progressing.

"If we wait for this to finish, the main forces will have already smashed through Hell's armies. Do you have a faster option?"

"The Blossom is just an experiment, meant for data collection," Selene replied, standing and gesturing toward the gate.

She continued, "The Hellgate's AI-like mind evaluates the strength and qualifications of those attempting to cross.

"You, as the Emperor's sons, should theoretically pass without harm."

Fixing Garan with a pointed look, she added, "So what are you waiting for? Aren't you eager to claim the glory?"

"Let's move," Garan commanded, undeterred by her provocation.

Stepping past her, he became the first to stride into the blazing flames of the Hellgate.

Warning: Extreme Environment Detected...

The automated alerts from his helmet filled Garan's ears as the flames enveloped him. His Terminator armor's energy shields and liquid metal nanofabric adjusted to counteract the intense heat.

The true challenge, however, was not the heat—it was the insidious psychic assault targeting his soul.

Whispers accompanied the system warnings:

"Oh, mighty warrior, pledge yourself to me, and you shall know supreme glory…"

"Fight for Asmodeus, and you'll taste pleasures beyond imagining…"

But for Garan, these temptations were laughable.

Though his psychic resistance was relatively weak, his iron will and the unshakable resolve of his companions rendered Hell's corruption impotent.

Garan pressed on, ignoring the voices, until the flames subsided.

Emerging into a shadowy, silent forest, his helmet clocked the transition at exactly 666 seconds—an ominous duration.

The forest was a realm of suffocating darkness. Faint growls and distant roars hinted at massive beasts prowling within.

Thud… Thud…

The sound of heavy footsteps behind him marked the arrival of his squad. His helmet radar confirmed that all personnel, including Selene, had successfully crossed into what appeared to be Hell's first layer.

After scanning their surroundings and confirming no immediate threats, Garan turned to Selene.

"This must be the Black Forest, the entrance to Hell, correct?"

"Correct," Selene affirmed. "According to intelligence, crossing the forest is only the first step. To reach the first true layer of Hell, we'll need to cross the River Acheron, also known as the 'River of Woe.'"

Having studied Dante's Inferno as part of his preparation, Garan immediately understood their location.

"Stay alert," he ordered. "The forest likely harbors supernatural beasts. Be ready to engage at any moment."

The squad moved forward cautiously. Navigational systems malfunctioned, leaving them to rely on Garan's instincts and Selene's scans to guide them.

Hours passed as they trekked through the oppressive darkness, encountering wandering spirits—ghostly remnants of knights, nuns, and cultists who had lost their way.

Finally, after 666 minutes, they reached the forest's edge.

Before them lay the Acheron, its murky waters stretching endlessly under a gray, featureless sky. Nothing floated upon its surface—not even the lightest feather could defy its pull.

On the shore, a towering ferryman, at least three meters tall, guided his boat toward them.

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