The fourth season of The Boys (2019- ) introduced a new character named Sage (Susan Heyward). Sage's superpower is being the most intelligent person on earth. While her power sounds fantastic, it has a dark side. As the most brilliant person ever to exist, Sage has no equal. While she can outthink anyone and dominate those around her, she is also very much alone.

Being the only person this intelligent also means no one else can understand her. Sage has no one she can talk to as an equal or help her carry the burden of her realizations. Sage's world is also a very dull place. Nothing is new or exciting because she has most likely thought of everything before. Sage is a prisoner of her mind, destined to yell into the void of stupidity around her unless she finds a way out.

To create this escape, Sage regularly lobotomizes herself and engages in some recreational debauchery. Sage is like many of us. Who hasn't just needed something that allows them not to think, if only for a few hours? Luckily, as sci-fi/fantasy fans, we don't need to resort to the extreme of self-lobotomizing...

...not when we have Warhammer.

Now, some of you may think you know where I am going with this. But I want to be clear: I am about to argue that being into Warhammer is the same as getting a lobotomy. Before you flame me in the comments, I also want to say Warhammer is the dumbest fucking thing I have ever seen. Its design is uninspired; its art style is weird and scatterbrained; its world is depressing and absurd; and its fans are incomprehensible. Yet, I'm fucking obsessed with it.

Like a lot of you, my first encounter with Warhammer was walking by a Games Workshop store at my local mall. I vividly recall the hideous yellow and red signage assaulting my eyes. I was curious about what was inside, but I never made it through the door. I was always freaked out by the awkward attempt at human contact from the proto-incel standing out front would make.

Despite being aware of Games Workshop for years, I had never looked at a physical Warhammer figurine until my nephew showed me a Space Marine he was painting. At first, I couldn’t take it seriously. I have always been a sci-fi/fantasy fan, but I really didn’t know what I was looking at. It seemed like a plastic green army guy from way back in the day or a G.I. Joe action figure, but it looked like someone joined it with a toaster and some football shoulder pads. “Is this a tank, or is this a person?” I thought. “How is this guy supposed to move in this armor?” Who designed this, GWAR?

The look of Warhammer is somewhere between He-Man (1981), Alien (1979), Lord of the Rings (1954), and the local high-school Dungeons & Dragons club, which holds its meetings in an abandoned gothic cathedral. Warhammer could be described as baroque, futuristic, steampunk, cyberpunk, militaristic, or dark fantasy; there really isn’t a look or style that couldn’t fit into its universe in some way.

The only rule I can find for how things should look is that everything should be ‘grimdark.’ For the uninitiated, ‘grimdark’ is a unique Warhammer word that comes from the tagline for almost everything associated with the universe, “... for in the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war.”[1]

The grimdark look is, well, grim and dark. It situates Warhammer firmly in the horror genre despite its childish appeal to young males. At a distance, space marines could be mistaken for a multi-colored collection of Buzz Lightyear toys from Toy Story (1995). But move closer, and you will notice that dark overtones and more sinister details emerge to offset the bright primary colors that first drew you in. Aesthetically, Grimdark is similar to the nightmarish contradictions of a game like Five Nights at Freddy’s (2014), with similar themes of lost innocence and the dark consequences of reaching adulthood.

In pulp fiction literature, grimdark is a subgenre of sci-fi/fantasy that is characterized as dystopian, amoral, and violent.[2] This is accurate, as the Warhammer universe is a dark, dangerous, and depressing place. There is no optimism, peaceful coexistence, or hope like in Star Trek. It is a place of cynicism, despair, oppression, superstition, dogma, injustice, and horror. There’s no morality in Warhammer—no deep philosophical questions to ponder. It is a universe free of gray areas since everyone, in some way, is in the black.

The first time that someone tried to explain this universe to me, I almost immediately tuned out; I lost track after they attempted to explain a fourth faction they deemed essential for me to know about. There are many entry points to get hooked on in Warhammer, but its massive scale is also intimidating to newcomers. It’s not that there isn’t anything to like in Warhammer; quite the opposite. There’s almost too much.

Warhammer is an amalgamation of ideas that are, let’s be nice and say, ‘borrowed’ from virtually every other sci-fi/fantasy IP in existence. The Tyranids are clearly the aliens from Alien (1979). The Space Marines were initially inspired by Judge Dredd (1977), with their look evolving into something similar to Master Chief from Halo (2001) and Doomguy from Doom (1993). Warhammer’s theme of a militaristic galactic empire fighting against an invasion of bug-like aliens is straight out of Starship Troopers (1959), not to mention the other empire with a near-immortal god-king, Dune (1965).

The Warhammer universe exists as a cacophony of lore, games, media, and art styles so massive in scope that no one person can claim to be an expert on everything. Over 600 books outline Warhammer’s official lore, with the literature divided between Warhammer 40,000, the dystopian science fiction universe set in the 41st millennium, and the Age of Sigmar, a high-fantasy universe featuring gods, magic, and mythical creatures.

Movies, literature, magazines, comic books, and webcomics, both fan-made and official, expand the universe even more. There’s even a Disney+-style streaming service called Warhammer+ that features high-quality short films produced in-house by Games Workshop. Of course, there are video games and board games covering several different genres. I am honestly shocked that no Warhammer full-length feature film or television series has been made yet, but if the rumors are true, this is about to change.

All of this revolves around a tabletop strategy game, of all things, and forms the basis for a fantasy universe that, by all rights (even copyrights), shouldn’t work. Games Workshop’s shotgun, anything-goes approach to world-building should be falling apart at the seams, considering the difficulties involved in keeping such a vast universe consistent. But, somehow, it does work, and it resonates loudly with those who matter most in any community: its fans.

I don’t know what to think of Warhammer fans. Until recently, I was not aware I knew anyone who was into Warhammer. Now that I am looking into the universe, I have found that I actually know quite a few. I know my recent awareness is mostly the Baader-Meinhoff phenomenon at work (i.e., the tendency to notice something more often once you become aware of it, even though it was always there to begin with).

Still, Warhammer fandom is not as talked about as others; Star Trek fans never shut the fuck up about how good and pure their universe is; you can’t swing a lightsaber in a McDonald’s without hitting a Star Wars fan, and everyone knows that one Harry Potter fan who can’t keep their Voldemort-was-the-good-guy-all-along theory to themselves, “No one gives a shit, Susan.”

Warhammer fans don’t seem to care about their fandom's obscurity; they may even appreciate it. They seem content to exist on the periphery of popular culture, where they can still credibly claim that their fandom is a part of sub-culture, at least for the time being.

Before George Lucas publically murdered his legacy by releasing the prequels (still a fucking stupid word, if you ask me) and its subsequent Disneyfication, Star Wars was actually considered part of sub-culture. Sure, it was popular with 'geeks' and kids, people who would go on to make it a permanent part of mainstream culture decades later, but in the early days, Star Wars, the real Star Wars, was known only to insiders.

These insiders were fans of the movies, like anyone else; the only difference was that they wanted to know more once the credits had rolled. To satiate this desire, they hunted down books, comics, or any other media that the companies, who were profiting off the Star Wars fervor, clamored to sell them.

These insiders were few, but you could find them if you knew where to look and if the conditions were right. They could be found in dark basement playrooms, at the back of classrooms, or on the hoods of cars, relaxing with friends. Once they were sure they were among the like-minded, they would trade obscure details about topics like Boba Fett and AT-STs.

This was usually done in secret because, while Star Wars was widely considered a fun movie, going further was still not accepted by the mainstream. Going too hard into the dark corners of the universe meant the risk of being labeled as a social outcast.

While being a sci-fi/fantasy fan, in general, no longer risks complete social isolation, Warhammer still retains something of this on-the-outside-looking-in feeling that the other franchises lost long ago.

You barely know Warhammer is there unless you go looking for it. It’s like a secret society where only members know how to identify other members. It’s the Hydra of popular culture, a sub-culture that exists on the fringes of other universes, whose adherents quietly bide their time painting models, reading the expansive lore, and posting their fan fiction and animations to the internet, all in anticipation of… something.

I may not understand Warhammer fans, but I can respect them. This hobby requires time, patience, and even an endurance for derision coming outsiders. I have heard more than a few jokes linking Warhammer to terminal virginity. Of course, this has no basis in actual evidence; there’s even some unignorable evidence to the contrary.

Still, this mockery recalls a time when all of nerd culture was subject to similar scorn before becoming mainstream. Warhammer retains an aura as a subset of nerd culture reserved for only the most hardcore, those willing to forego... other things in pursuit of the hobby. The time and attention Warhammer demands is one of the mechanisms that has kept it out of the mainstream for so long. Metaphorically, Warhammer has remained pure, true... and virgin.

Warhammer fans also endure a very unique torture particular to their universe. These fans spend thousands of hours painting overpriced plastic models sold to them by a multinational company with thousands of stores worldwide. Games Workshop does its best to imprison its fans in a system of endless addiction designed to exploit them for as much as possible.

The irony that the universe’s lore revolves around the so-called Emporer of all Mankind, who is only kept alive by sacrificing the souls of 1,000 of his followers every day, who in turn are supplied by a ruthless imperial system that demands ceaseless devotion, shouldn’t be lost on anyone.

If you ask any dedicated Warhammer fan what they think of Games Workshop, you are bound to hear a long rant about how greedy the company is and how the people who run it are evil incarnate. Immediately after, they will proudly show you their army of Blood Angel Space Marines that they spent countless hours painting and cost them over $2,000; all the while maintaining a straight face, completely aware of the dissonance, and blissfully reconciled to it.

Warhammer is the kind of universe that will draw you in like an Aeldari brothel, drain you of all your dignity and money, and then leave you burning on the side of the road with a smile on your face, screaming, “For the Emperor!”

Warhammer is ridiculous, weird, borrowed, and absurd. It demands everything of its fans: body, soul, and credit card. Yet, despite this, it proudly blows through the constraints that other universes are too pussy to approach. It doesn’t care what anyone thinks, especially me, and does its thing without apologies… which is why I love it.

The only way to fully enjoy Warhammer is to accept your lobotomy and submit to its absurdity. If you abandon any preconceived notions about what a sci-fi/fantasy universe should look like or profess, you will find an escapist’s paradise that will leave you happily drooling into your empty wallet. There’s a full-throttle universe here that is full of such sights to show you, if you can get past its atypical exterior, overwhelming scale, and its time commitment.

Warhammer is one of the last bastions of true escapism in sci-fi/fantasy that, for now, remains largely untouched by the forces that have destroyed so many other beloved franchises. Make sure you enjoy it while you can.

See you on the other side.💀

[1]McNeill, Graham, Nightbringer: 20th Anniversary Edition (The Chronicles of Uriel Ventris: Warhammer 40,000 Book 1), Kindle Edition, pg. 5.

[2] Grimdark, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grimdark, accessed 25 Sep 24.