God Emperor of Mankind, Atatürk

IT IS THE 2nd millennium. For almost a hundred years, Atatürk has laid immobile on his tomb in Anıtkabir of Türkiye. He is the father of Turks by the will of the gods, and master of a hundred cities by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Ottomans. He is the Carrion Lord of Türkiye for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truly die.

YET EVEN IN his deathless state, Atatürk continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the Greek-infested miasma of the Aegean Sea, the only route between Black Sea and Mediterranean Sea, their way lit by Nutuk, the psychic manifestation of the Atatürk's will. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted trenches. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Kemalus, the Kemal Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Jendarme and countless police forces, the ever-vigilant Anayasa Mahkemesi and the CHP – priests of the Adeptus Kemalus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from Islamists, Apoists, half-Turks and worse.

TO BE A TÃœRK in our time is to be one amongst untold millions. It is to live in the cruellest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of our times. Forget the power of Turkic Nationalism and Spirit of the Steppe, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of TURAN and Unity, for in the grim darkness of the present, there is only war. There is no peace in home or abroad, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of a thirsting Arab God.