Hasninë

**Hasninë** was at one point in its life lush and vibrant world, a mere galactic stones throw away from the seat of Imperial Power at Terra, as well as being near the homeworld of the star spanning human empire from before the rise of the Imperium. Listed as the homeworld of the XVIth Legion, the Imperial Justicars, the world is unique in that it was the first planet that saw the meeting between father and son, the Emperor of Mankind descending to the planet to meet with his first-found son, Almire Leoric.

before the age of the Imperium, Hasninë was an Agri-World in the empire of Mars, its great fields supplying food to numerous forge worlds across the Segmentum Solar, watched over by powerful Knights, who served the will of the people. As the warp storms of the age of strife overtook the planet however, these Knights began not to serve, but to rule, numerous feudal houses springing up around these knight suits, each one claiming ownership of large swathes of land, ruling with an iron fist from their mighty suits of mechanised armour, the peasants who continued to work the fields powerless to oppose them and deemed unworthy of representation in the courts of their betters.

This was not the world the Emperor found however, for when Almire laid eyes upon the world and saw its inequality, he saw only a blight upon the galaxy. The will of a Primarch would never be opposed, and in short order, Hasninë was brought under his unified rule, all treated as equals, the only advancement coming through hard work and skill, a true meritocracy, and a beacon of Imperial justice that shone across the galaxy throughout the Great Crusade.

Hasninë survived the early Almire Apostasy, its forces striking out at worlds designated by the Warmaster, laying them to waste with the power of their knight suits, the loyalists unwilling, or prhaps unable, to waste their forces in pacifying the world, such a victory being deemed little more than a symbolic gesture. The world would not however survive the Frontier Wars that followed, Almire’s darker methods of ruling soon took root, Hasninë reverting back to its ancient ways, before becoming darker still, fear stalking the land as Astartes ruled without oversight.

The world would meet its final days in the year before Terra fell to the encroaching loyalist forces, though it would not be a loyalist that finally claimed the world as amongst their victories. Instead, First Praetor Asmodeus, Legion Master of the XVIth and now avowed enemy of the failure that he saw in Almire, brought his fleet to the world, raining down fire upon Hasninë, leaving the world as little more than a radioactive hellscape.

## History

### The Time of Knights

The history of Hasninë is surprisingly well documented, more so than many other worlds lost during the Age of Strife, though this is of little consequence to those who dwelt upon the world, its history simply a known horror rather than an unknown one, made all the more terrible for its transparency.

A vibrant world, Hasninë was colonised as an agri-world by the old empire of Mars, given over entirely to the production of raw food to feed the populations of their giant forges, continent spanning grain fields springing up, tended by veritable armies of workers, and presided over by mighty knight suits provided by the Martians, their power great enough to see any threat to the world from beyond the stars swiftly and mercilessly crushed.

In these days, the Knight suits were guardians of the world, working with the people who worked the fields, their pilots understanding that while they may have held unrivaled destructive power within their hands, at least upon Hasninë, that the world's true value was in its productivity, the workers of the fields guiding the planet, the Knights their humble servants.

All of this changed however when the warp storms that would bring forth Old Night struck the galaxy, surrounding Hasninë in the baleful energies of that over-realm, cutting the world off from all external contact. At first, little changed, small scale warp storms had erupted in the past, but they had always blown themselves out within a few years at most. Other worlds may suffer as Hasninë was cut off, reliant as they were upon the Agri-worlds food, but if they did, it was their own fault for lacking stockpiles. Hasninë would continue to produce their exported goods, storing them until such a time as they could resume trade once more.

One year passed. Then two. Then five. It was only when a decade passed that the first whispers began to surface, these storms were not like the others, they were not going to blow out. Stores filled with grain would rot before they could be sent out. These rumours were quickly crushed, but by the fifteenth year, the boiling point was reached.

Planet-wide riots engulfed Hasninë, those who worked the fields demanding answers, demanding that the ships in high anchor tried to brave the storms, demanding a break to the work that was now utterly pointless. Simply demanding action. Nothing like this had happened before, and had it been handled correctly, the world would likely have quickly stabilised. As it was however, it was not handled correctly, not ever close to it, the Knight suits moving to impose order.

Thousands died in the ensuing culls, Knights turning their weapons upon civilians who had no way of fighting back, simple las-weaponry used for driving off wildlife ineffective against the mighty machines. The riots were soon put down, martial order rising in its place, fear stalking the land as workers were forced back into the field.

The pilots were now firmly in command of the world, vowing to maintain order until Mars contacted them once more, no matter the hardships the civilians now suffered. Without the export of produce, they no longer held power over the world, and in their place, knightly households began to rise, lineages cementing and entrenching themselves.

Within a scant few generations, Hasninë was changed. No more was the world built upon equality and the sweat of one's brow, now it was built upon who your father was, what pedigree your blood carried with it. As the gulf widened, the unified language of the world splintered into dozens of differing tongues, each one unique to its region, and further obfuscated by the Knightly Households and their byzantine laws, those not of the Knightly Households unsure of what any of their lords spoke of, communication all but non-existent between the upper and lower stratas, the divide widening with each passing cycle.

### The Reign of Justice

This continued for countless years, the feudal system of the world becoming more and more complex as the years wore on, new houses springing into being as breakaways from the oldest of their kind, their social standing diminished but still above that of the peasants who found their meagre rights continuing to shrink day by day until finally, they were granted no rights at all, treated as little more than cattle who could be ordered to perform menial tasks, their bellies filled with enough food to survive, even as the nobles gorged themselves on great feasts each and every night.

On any other world, this would have been utterly untenable, the peasants making up the vast majority of the populace, but on Hasninë, numbers meant nothing, the mighty armour suits counting as entire armies in their own right. While these stood against them, the peasants had no chance at reformations. They needed a weapon, raising their heads to the gods that looked down upon them in pleas for aid. They received a Primarch.

Almire Leoric, first recorded as a Scion of the Knightly House of Delphaan, passing all tests put to him both within and without the cockpit of the mighty Knight suits, unmatched in his mastery over the Throne Mechanicus even as he was unable to truly pilot a Knight, his rapidly growing form far outstripping the space in the cockpits of the knights themselves.

And yet, for all his privilege and wealth, Almire was a conflicted soul, his eyes forever drawn not to the house that raised him, but to the peasants who toiled in their name, unable to change their lot in life, unable to do more than serve and die at the whims of their masters. Such would never sit well with the Primarch, Almire weeping at their plight as he resolved that he would bring them the change they so desperately needed.

In a single night, Almire struck at the House of Delphaan, slaying their pilots and ruling elite, even as he safeguarded many of the knight suits themselves. As Delphaan fell, Almire threw wide the gates of the fortress keep, striding forth and addressing the masses in their own tongue, common speak as opposed to the secret voices of Delphaan he had been tutored in. He knew they had little reason to trust him, to them he was simply a noble, part of the institution who had lorded over them for generations. Only deeds could cement his commitment to his people, and a deed he showed them, standing before them and vowing to sacrifice everything in their name, before plunging his fingers into his own eye, ripping his right orb from its socket and holding it aloft for all to see.

Blood poured from the wound, but Almire stood undaunted, his message now backed with deed. The cry was immense, hundreds flocking to his banner to fight for the one who would fight for them. In short order, the new House of Leoric arose, the Primarich teaching his new people how to pilot the knights that he himself had been schooled in, using his knowledge to give them the weapon they required.

House Leoric was not akin to the Knights of old Hasninë, no peerage or great family lines laying claim to his knights. All were equally worthy in his eyes, any who wished to step forward could, the Ritual of Becoming open to any who could pass through training. Soon, House Leoric scored its first victory, recovering the least damaged Knight Suits and pressing them into service, a seemingly never ending stream of pilots eager to fill them, standing in stark contrast with the other Houses, each of whom insisted on training but a few pilots at a time from their noble bloodlines.

With each battle, Almires forces grew, the Primarch leading from the front lines with his knights at his back, his supernatural skill allowing him to keep pace with his mighty charges. With every victory, House Leoric grew, and within a few short years of bloody conflict, Hasninë was unified under Almire. No matter where he trod, his followers were close behind, spreading through the populace to spread the words of Almire, teaching a common language and a common code.

When the Emperor arrived at Hasninë a scant few years after the Great Crusade had begun, he found a world united not by mere love for its ruler or of worship, but by a common understanding, an assured belief in their own place within the society Almire had forged. Justice was fair upon Hasninë, and as Almire was raised to the Imperium, he made a vow before the Emperor that as it was on Hasninë, so too would it be across the galaxy. He would crusade forevermore, until the last world new unity, peace, and justice, his XVIth Legion raising their voices to swear their own approval to their father.

### The Great Crusade

As the first found Primarc of the Imperium, Almire began the trend to which all others would follow, listing Hasninë as the homeworld of the XVIth, transforming it into a primary recruiting area for the legion, ensuring a steady supply of recruits was ever forthcoming. As with his liberation of the world, these recruits were not differentiated by class or social standing, any able to place themselves upon the path to joining the ranks of the Imperial Justicars, their skills and genetic compatibility all that mattered for these warriors.

Nor was such a recruitment strategy limited only to the legion, Almire ensuring that his world would remain as he had forged it forever more, warriors slated to join the Imperial Army and who undertook the trials to join House Leoric itself all being held to the same standard, judged on what their actions showed them capable of, not what their stories and deeds claimed.

However, unlike some legion homeworlds, Hasninë never stood as the singular place of recruitment for the XVIth Legion. Indeed, it was no more influential in that regard than a hundred other worlds the legion passed by, children combed from conquered worlds to be added to the legion.Hasninë did however excel in one thing however, and that was those souls raised to the ranks of the Adeptus Arbites, the protectors of Imperial Law Enforcement, before the organisation shifted to only take in recruits from the orphans of the Imperial dead.

Having seen the threat of injustice, Hasninë became a hub for the Arbites, many considering it to be the organisations second home after Terra itself, its status as an Agri-World becoming less and less important, many of the fields soaked with the blood of the uprising, few wishing to go back to tending the fields as they had done under the cruel Knights before Almire’s arrival.

By the end of the Great Crusade, Hasninë was a world transformed, its fields a distant memory as instead, vast warehouses filled with munitions for House Leoric or great training precincts for the sister organisation to the Adeptus Arbites that the Warmaster himself had implemented. Though it was no fortress, there being little need for defences so far into the Imperium, the world was the perfect mustering point for forces travelling from the inner Imperium to join the leading edges of the Great Crusade, or, as it would conspire, for forces seeking to assault the throneworld itself.

### The Doom of Terra

Just like the Warmaster himself and countless other worlds across the Imperium, the encroaching Apostasy was not a complete surprise. Though it was wrong to say that anyone on Hasninë knew the Apostasy was coming, Almire refusing to allow such a potential lapse in operational security to occur, but the world was nonetheless prepared for the oncoming storm.

Millions of tons of munitions were stockpiled on the world from the forges of Mars, from Castigator Bolt Shells through to great Plasma batteries for use upon starships, tens of millions of soldiers prepared to embark upon the Warmasters newest conquest, wile House Leoric mustered in full, new Knights added to their ranks, including numerous rare patterns such as the Atrapos, Styrix or gargantuan Acastus frames, all shipped from Mars itself bearing the symbol of the Fabricator General and under the bidding of the Warmaster himself.

Such a build-up of armaments was unprecedented upon the world, but not without merit, Almire making sure to cover his true nature with irrefutable plans, shadow crusades that would never come to light planned and made available to any who cared to look, explaining away the massive build up.

When Almire revealed his treachery, the true scope of this build up became horrifyingly apparent as the Knights of House Leoric were fully made aware of the betrayal by attached Astartes advisors, striking out at worlds surrounding Hasninë alongside those of the Imperial Army delegations that had willingly sided with the Warmaster, those who resisted finding themselves struck down by Almire’s followers.

The chaos caused by this sudden uprising was immense, dozens of worlds falling silent, Terra finding itself cut off by a sizeable force that while far from invincible for the defenders of the Throne World, was still a potent enough enemy to sap their strength if engaged on their own terms. With the surety of one who had calculated the acceptable loss ratio down to individual army troopers, Shaaa Hydrades made the choice to abandon those worlds House Leoric set its sights upon, withdrawing planetary defence fleets and as many ground forces as possible, further reinforcing his mighty Solar Guardian Array.

As the traitors approached, they found that the final strike through Segmentum Solar before reaching Sol itself was a far easier affair than many would have believed possible a decade earlier, Hasninë serving as the final muster point for the traitor forces, all Primarch’s and their legions gathering on the great parade squares of the world in a manner similar to the muster on Ullanor so many years earlier. Here, none were named Warmaster, no favoured warlord elevated, but the parallels were plain for all to see, the Warmaster ascendant, poised to travel to Terra to become its Emperor.

All on the world screamed in jubilation at the announcement, the stockpiles emptied, its remaining defenders becoming aggressors, joining the traitor host on the final march to tear down the Emperor, and bring about an age of true enlightenment under the True Emperor of Mankind, Almire Leoric.

### The Age of Darkness

Soon after the muster at Hasninë, Terra fell to the traitor forces, Almire slaying Camelous and striking the Emperor himself, though he did not land the final blow, the Imperium managing to survive to form the Imperium Secundus. Nevertheless, the victory secured at Terra was unprecedented across all of Imperial history, Hasninë viewing itself as instrumental in such a victory, their loyalty to the True Emperor of Mankind surely to be rewarded now Terra was under control of Almire, the Primarch having ruled with justice and equality forefront in his mind throughout the Great Crusade.

For a time, this was true, Hasninë enjoying an elevated status in the new True Imperium, the worshippers who streamed to Terra to see the new God Emperor often travelling to Hasninë first, setting eyes upon the birthplace of their new god before attempting to travel to see the god Himself.

However, such a state of affairs would not last, and as the True Imperium grew darker, so too did Hasninë itself. Chaos, as insidious as ever, wormed its way into the fabric of the world, the rulers of the world beginning to organise great Pogroms to expel or capture those they deemed unfit to live, these riots quickly becoming great ritual sacrifices, millions being slaughtered to feed the ravenous hungers of the dark gods.

As these worsened, law enforcement and Astartes of the Warmasters Justicars began to take more and more liberties with their enforcement of the once just laws of the planet, corruption running rampant as new laws were put into place seemingly overnight. By the middle of the era known as the Frontier Wars, the world had slid fully back into its pre-Imperial days, strictly regimented castes springing up, the lower classes living in abject fear of those above them. In a few more years, the situation worsened further still, the entire world little more than a charnel house dedicated to the gods, the armouries that still stood full now soaked with the blood of those who dwelt there, munitions infused with the powers of the ruinous powers.

When the loyalist forces of the Imperium Secundus struck out to retake Terra, all believed that once again, Hasninë would become a vital world, the loyalists forced to take the homeworld of the Warmaster before striking at Terra itself, but this would not come to pass, one final twist of the knife lying in store for the doomed world.

### Destruction

As the loyalist fleet bore down on Hasninë, led by the new flagship of the Imperial Navy, the *Triumph*, the world prepared to fight, barricades being erected, slaves sacrificed by the millions to weaken the fabric of reality, daemons of all colours and creeds dancing through the streets, even as great soul-forges poured their power into anti-orbital guns, ensuring that a ground assault would come, exterminatus impossible with the weapons in play.

The loyalist fleet would never arrive, or at least, it would not arrive while the world still lived. Instead, another fleet arrived, nowhere near as vast, but one carrying with it a potency of a different kind. Gobalt Asmodeus, former Legion Master of the XVIth Legion and now an avowed enemy of Almire, appeared above the world with a vast contingent of the Astartes, their backgrounds once different, now forged into a singular force.

For years, Asmodeus had seen the folly of his once loved father's actions, his failure to destroy the Imperium and naming himself Emperor while another still bore that title. He would not stand for it, breaking away from the Emperor of the True Imperium, claiming the title of Warmaster for himself, calling out to all the scattered forces of the traitor hosts, bidding those that wished to truly continue the war against the Imperium to stand with him, denouncing the weakness of the Primarch’s. In these days, a new legion was formed, one that answered to no Primarch, the Warmaster its leader, known only as the Black Legion.

As the Black Legion hung in orbit over Hasninë, Asmodeus gave an ultimatum to those on the surface, to join him or die. Millions did, defections both mortal and Astartes ripping the planets defences apart, streams of warriors flocking to Asmodeus’s side, but some still stood on the world's surface, their guns still turned upwards, seemingly daring this usurper to try his hand.

Asmodeus had no need to commit forces to such an assault, Hasninë already inviting in its doom. Daemons who served only their gods responded to their masters' whims, sensing the power of this new Warmaster and turning on the remaining defenders. Screams echoed through the warp from the dying world, the warp bending and buckling, before finally snapping, the Black Legion’s mighty fleet disappearing from the system, transported halfway across the galaxy into the Eye of Terror, preparing to turn the great Warp Storm into a bastion from which to strike at the hated Imperium forever more.