Oleincis.
The duelling arena.
At some point unknown, this Slaaneshi daemon world had changed.
The flesh-formed surface now ran with magma. Some tissues began to rot, breeding maggots, while crystalline, gem-like growths formed in other places.
That was the result of the Chaos Gods' authorities extending here and impacting the material world. Different powers interwove and clashed.
Fortunately, They still could not truly descend upon this daemon world. If They did, an even more dreadful catastrophe would unfold.
Even so, the mere spillover of Their authority had already produced horrifying effects.
And the one truly bearing the pressure of the Chaos Gods was the pleasure-illusion, and the Savior within it.
The arena's turmoil ceased.
Within the illusionary spectacle projected by the warp-veil, the Chaos daemons saw the phantasmal silhouettes of the gods they worshipped.
They prostrated themselves, offering reverence to the true gods, as though any other sound would be disrespect.
"The Savior's blasphemy is about to end. He will be ground to dust beneath the Gods' wrath…"
The Masque wore a feverish smile across a face ruined by ugly scars. The Savior had destroyed her beauty.
Now he would meet his end. Even his soul would be cast into eternal torment.
Many Chaos daemons thought the same.
In their understanding, nothing could resist the Gods' authority and majesty.
Their awe of the Savior, that cursed and loathsome being, was fading. They would not fear someone already marked for death.
Like countless lives in the Warp, he would be erased under the Gods' blows, then forgotten.
"At last, this will end…"
Fulgrim the Fallen Phoenix exhaled in relief. He offered a slight gesture of respect to the Gods, then returned to his throne.
A fresh goblet of blood-wine appeared in his hand. The fury in his heart had turned into delight.
"Watch, Robert. You will witness a brother's death with your own eyes. That hypocrite will vanish like the other brothers who died before him. Reduced to nothing.
"Perhaps I'll even have the chance to collect his body, and craft the most blasphemous toys from it, for daemons to torment and play with."
What did it matter if the hypocrite's true body was in the galaxy, protected by layers upon layers of defense?
His consciousness and soul were inside the pleasure-illusion, already boxed in by the Gods.
He could not possibly withstand such dreadful corruption. The Gods' authority would flow along his soul and destroy every possibility of survival.
Even if what extended here was only an authority-avatar, he had no chance of resisting at all.
"A pity. I won't get the chance to fight him in the galaxy, nor use the Maugetar stone to siphon his essential power."
Fulgrim sounded regretful.
But no matter what, an enemy who had humiliated him dying was inherently pleasing.
Especially when he could watch the Savior die while savoring Robert's despair.
"Eden, my brother!"
Roboute Guilliman was still bound. Staring at the dreadful silhouettes in the pleasure-illusion, he could not stop despair from flooding his heart.
The power emanating from the Chaos Gods was not something a human could withstand. Even outside the illusion, he could sense the nearness of death.
If he were within it, he would have no chance of survival.
That brother was about to die.
Just thinking of it filled Guilliman with a bitterness and grief he could not restrain.
He could not imagine what it would mean to lose Eden. He might never forgive himself.
After all, that brother had fallen into the Gods' trap to save him, while he could only watch it happen.
He could not influence the Warp in any way.
"Father… Father will come save Eden, won't he?!"
Guilliman hunted for any possible thread of life, and a sliver of hope rose within him.
That father, the Emperor, possessed immeasurable might within the Warp. Even the Dark Gods feared Him. Perhaps He could pull Eden out of the illusion.
But in the next instant, that hope was strangled.
"My dear brother, stop fantasizing. That false Emperor rots upon the Golden Throne. He cannot project His will across such an immense distance to affect this place.
"Unless He can stand up from the Golden Throne."
Fulgrim's mocking voice rang out, as though he had seen through the Ultramarine Primarch's thoughts. The tentacles behind him reshaped into a cruel whip and lashed Guilliman's body.
"The only thing you can do now is watch the hypocrite die. You have no other way.
"His death may well be the most exhilarating feast the galaxy has seen in ten thousand years.
"I'll record every ugly moment of it and savor it slowly. Then I'll spread it through the galaxy, and to every corner of the Warp."
Fulgrim used whip and words alike to torment Guilliman's flesh and spirit, indulging in the pleasure of it.
It carried the sweet thrill of revenge fulfilled.
As though the earlier humiliation could be wiped away by this cruelty.
"Especially you, Robert. You have no control over the Warp at all. You're nothing but dead weight.
"No one can rely on you.
"Other than dragging down the Imperium and your brothers, what can you do?
"Ten thousand years ago, if you could influence the Warp, the relief effort to Terra would not have failed.
"Today, if you could influence the Warp, you wouldn't be forced to watch this happen with your own eyes, watching your brother die.
"Are you furious? How unfortunate. Your fury only makes you look more like a helpless clown. You can do nothing."
Fulgrim hurled humiliation without restraint.
His venomous words were like thorns, stabbing into Guilliman's heart, one after another, until it bled.
Fulgrim could see it. Robert was crying. A Primarch who had always been unyielding was crying.
That Primarch had endured so many torments without breaking, yet now tears streamed down his face, his heart drowning in guilt and self-loathing.
It made the Fallen Phoenix even more excited.
"Ah, look. Everyone, come look. How sweet, how timid those tears are.
"Don't you know tears are the symbol of a weakling's incompetence?!"
He pointed at Guilliman and laughed loudly.
Other daemons joined in, as though the entire arena were mocking the Primarch's "cowardice."
Sharp laughter filled the duelling arena, grating and unbearable.
Crack!
"Come on. I need more tears!" Fulgrim gathered himself, then lashed again. The toxic whip carried an even more terrifying force.
But in the next moment, he froze, disbelief flashing in his eyes.
The whip struck Robert, and it did almost nothing.
More unbelievable still, blue, frenzied arcs of lightning began to flicker across the body of this "Warp-insulated" Primarch.
Astonishing.
In an instant, Fulgrim and the daemons dimly saw a massive blue sun within the Warp, its surface crawling with lightning storms.
It represented Roboute Guilliman. It was his Warp-essence.
That blue sun was enormous, and it radiated a dreadful threat.
"No… impossible. How can you possess such powerful Warp authority?!"
With a clatter, the crystal goblet slipped from Fulgrim's hand and shattered on the ground. He stumbled back two steps, his voice turning hoarse.
He realized that Robert's authority already far exceeded his own.
In truth, the Ultramarine Primarch was born with terrifying potential and had been accumulating it all along, never once spending it.
He had simply never accepted that Warp power.
That was also why the Emperor had schemed to revive him, hoping he would save the Imperium.
Only later, the Savior had appeared, and the Emperor gained a better candidate.
Now, under unbearable pressure, Guilliman broke past his own limits. The boundary that had already loosened finally shattered completely.
He merged with the power that had always belonged to him.
His utilization of Warp-essence surpassed even the Lion and the Raven Lord.
In such circumstances, the one who wielded the greater utilization of Warp-essence would hold an overwhelming advantage.
Like the Raven Lord, who could use essential power to pin Lorgar in place, leaving him too afraid to step out of his tower.
"I am not weeping," Guilliman said, slowly raising his head, tear tracks still visible on his face. "I am bidding farewell to my former self, and mourning it, as I welcome rebirth.
"I will fight alongside my brother."
He tore free of every restraint with ease.
The Armour of Fate, at some point unknown, had restored itself to perfect condition, and it now carried an even greater weight of majesty.
Guilliman lifted both hands and seized the Geminae Superia at either side. Before their horrified eyes, he strangled them to death with brute force.
Then he looked up at Fulgrim, who had gone tense. Blue thunder swelled within Guilliman's eyes.
"You should run. And so should every abomination here.
"You will face my thunderstorm."
Boom!
Before Fulgrim could even react, Guilliman crossed the distance at a terrifying speed, appearing in front of him.
Guilliman slammed a hand onto Fulgrim's face and drove him down into the throne with savage force. The face caked in cosmetics shattered along with the throne, and tears scattered in the impact's spray.
What followed was Fulgrim's shriek of regret and agony.
The Lord of Ultramar had undergone a metamorphosis like rebirth.
This time, he would challenge Fulgrim and every daemon in the arena, and then declare war upon the Gods themselves.
With his fury, lightning spread outward, and the daemons' eyes filled with fear.
…
Meanwhile, within the pleasure-illusion.
The Savior, Emperor of the Imperium, faced an unimaginable threat.
He stood against the four most powerful eternal gods in the Warp.
Countless Warp entities were watching this encirclement and execution.
Perhaps the Savior would be crushed like a sewer rat.
"The victims are here, and they've blocked the door…"
Eden bore pressure unlike anything he had ever endured and slowly lifted his head.
Above the illusion's sky-vault, the bodies of the Chaos Gods seemed larger than planets, exuding dreadful oppression.
Khorne's blood-shadow burned with molten flame. Every breath was like tens of thousands of volcanic eruptions, and even the surrounding matter was corroded by slaughter-authority into crimson magma.
Nurgle's plague-flesh mountain loomed within a yellow-green haze. Fetid ichor poured from rotting wounds like waterfalls, while countless maggots and Nurgling creatures writhed within pits of meat.
Slaanesh wore a crown of thorns. Its body was woven from trillions of pink, humanlike forms, an endless tide of soft flesh and shifting anatomy, and every throat issued decadent moans as intoxicating mist spilled outward.
Tzeentch's illusory body shifted within prismatic camouflage. Every millisecond it underwent countless transformations, forming an unknowable shape. Thousands upon thousands of yearning faces clung to the iridescence, murmuring spells in unknown tongues.
The four Chaos Gods' divine bodies were manifesting, embodiments of Their concepts, saturated with wrath.
They intended to tear the Savior apart, soul included, leaving no chance of resurrection.
Across the galaxy and the Warp, there might be no one else who could face such absolute doom, confronting the rage of all four gods at once.
Hiss—
When Eden's gaze swept across Tzeentch's shifting form, his head felt like it had been struck by a massive hammer. Dizziness surged, and even his thoughts stalled for a brief instant.
"Not good. I'm getting knowledge-dizzy…"
In that moment of vertigo, such a thought surfaced in his mind.
Just now, through Tzeentch's illusory body, he had glimpsed vast cosmic mysteries, technological knowledge, and ancient taboo secrets.
There was too much. His brain almost crashed.
If a high-ranking psyker, a Chaos sorcerer, or a tech-priest were here, they would likely go mad beneath the flood of knowledge.
"Fortunately, I'm not a being that craves knowledge. Otherwise I'd have fallen into the Changer of Ways' trap, corroded by the concept he embodies."
Eden reacted at once, immediately lowering his "thinking level," keeping it around his own middling education.
Just like that, the dizziness disappeared. If you cannot understand it at all, you cannot get dizzy from it.
Perhaps this was an advantage. The exchange ended within milliseconds.
"Do we still have a chance to reconcile?" Eden asked, looking up at the gods' silhouettes.
But the Chaos Gods' gazes grew colder still.
"Savior, your skull will be mounted upon the Skull Throne!"
Khorne was furious. Those blasphemous images had humiliated His likeness, costing Him far too much majesty.
He could feel it. Faith in slaughter and war was declining.
This had to end, immediately.
Rumble, rumble—
In an instant, the illusion's ground split apart. Volcanic magma surged. A flood of rancid ichor roared through, packed with countless maggots.
Worse still, thorns exploded into growth within the haze, while multicolored flames fell like meteors.
In that moment, the Chaos Gods attacked together.
With Their authority surging forth, Their authority-avatars invaded the pleasure-illusion itself. Every blasphemous projection collapsed under the pressure.
The entire illusion became apocalyptic.
Every projection channel leading outward was destroyed.
Thud. Thud. Thud!
The Chaos Gods' grotesque authority-avatars manifested within the illusion, colossal beyond measure.
They nearly tore the illusion apart from within.
From four directions, They strode toward Eden, as though to crush him underfoot like an insect.
"Even an authority-avatar has this much power, but the Sun of Hope may not be at a disadvantage!"
Eden did not hesitate in the slightest. He also drew upon the essence of his Sun of Hope, merging it into this pleasure-illusion he controlled.
In that instant, power unlike anything he had ever felt surged within him.
"With the Sun of Hope, surely I can hold out for at least some time, right?"
This was Eden's first time using his Warp-essence to clash directly with the Chaos Gods. He was, unavoidably, a little tense.
But he had already seen the stairway to apotheosis. He was not far from true godhood.
More than that, he had just absorbed an enormous wave of warp-tainted faith, and more was still gathering, unceasingly.
It would be fine.
That was what Eden told himself as he stared up at Nurgle's foul, rotting foot stepping down upon him.
In the next moment, the foot crushed him.
Along with the ground beneath him, Eden shattered into pieces and fell silent.
And within the pleasure-illusion, only the Chaos Gods' authority-avatars remained.
Yet the Chaos Gods did not rejoice at the destruction of the Savior's illusory body. Instead, They grew more solemn.
That being seemed to have merged into the illusion itself, his authority steadily increasing.
"Gods, you seek to ignite a divine war. Then I have no choice but to answer it.
"You will witness the power of humanity's faith. You will witness the light of hope!"
With the Savior's roar, a beam of light fell from the sky, dazzling beyond measure.
It surged like sacred radiance. Boundless golden brilliance flooded the entire region, reverberating in waves.
It resembled the Accursed One's power too closely, making the Chaos Gods wary, their expressions grave.
They assumed defensive postures, prepared to resist the light's harm.
All this time, the Savior's Sun of Hope and the essence of his authority had been hidden beneath the cover of the sacred sun, and what little revealed itself had only ever been the tip of an iceberg.
This was the first time the Savior truly revealed his authority-essence, allowing his divine form to appear.
Naturally, They would guard against the unknown.
Especially when the other party had already touched the stairway to apotheosis. In truth, he was only one step away from being an eternal god like Them.
Of course, crossing that step and becoming eternal was extraordinarily difficult.
And They would never allow him to become a new eternal, whether he was the Savior or the Accursed One.
Not only the Gods, but countless other observers watching the illusion also held their breath under that descending presence.
…?
But very quickly, as the Chaos Gods maintained their defenses, They froze in confusion.
They realized the light was gentle and warm, not harmful at all.
And within it, a smooth, round thing appeared.
Soon, the Sun of Hope manifested in midair, glowing softly.
It looked like a slightly springy little sphere.
Soft.
That was the materialization of the Savior's authority, his divine body, with almost no visible aggression or threat to it at all.
Duang—
Khorne reached out and poked the sphere, like poking a cotton ball. Ripples spread across its surface.
It carried the absurd feeling of: "If you mess with me, you'll only end up kicking cotton."
The God of war and slaughter showed a cruel smile.
"Ah. Such a weak, paltry authority. This is your resistance?"
Much of His caution faded. Compared to the Accursed One, the Savior's authority seemed harmless.
Other observers, upon seeing the Savior's essential true form, also relaxed. This being was not a new Accursed One.
Then, in the next instant—
Volcanic magma erupted like a tsunami, and the illusion's ground split apart.
Khorne's authority-avatar raised a blood-axe and hacked down at the Sun of Hope sphere!
(End of Chapter)
[Get +30 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on "Zaelum"]
[Every 300 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
[Thanks for Reading!]