"As you command, great master! I'll summon all the greater daemons at once." The Chaos Champion subordinate nodded and immediately departed.
Fulgrim sat upon his crystal throne, lost in thought. Just as he was about to fuse with the Chaos godshard, an opportunity had appeared—one that could vastly increase his strength: a supreme physical vessel that would rank among the finest in the material universe.
And at this very moment, his father, the Emperor, had released the method for creating Emperor Avatars! The courier escorting it was Guilliman, and his own agents had already uncovered the news—other Chaos powers likely knew as well.
All of this screamed conspiracy.
Fulgrim was no fool. Such an obvious trap—how could he not see it?
So how much did the Emperor truly know? Had his father already learned that he was on the verge of fusing with a Chaos godshard and becoming a true Chaos god?
Fulgrim dared not gamble on this. His original plan had been to complete the fusion with Slaanesh's godshard, ascend as a Chaos God, and, leveraging the mysterious racial bond, devour the souls of all humanity across the galaxy at the instant of his apotheosis.
Of course, he would spare a portion—those Chaos cultists who worshiped the Chaos Gods would not have their souls consumed.
Even so, the sheer number of human souls would make him stronger than Slaanesh ever was—perhaps even rival Khorne. Such an act would surely drive his father into a fury, for it violated his bottom line—he would rise from the Golden Throne.
But would his father truly become the fabled Dark King, devouring all life in the universe? Was the Dark King's power truly as rumored, able to suppress the Four Chaos Powers?
He could even destroy the material universe itself. Even the Four Chaos Gods would not dare let the Emperor become the Dark King.
Thus they constantly suppressed him, keeping him on the Golden Throne, forever unable to rise—that was the ideal outcome.
Therefore, Fulgrim planned to devour over ninety percent of humanity, leaving a portion within the Solar Segmentum. That way his power would not be much diminished, and it would not drive the Emperor into blind rage.
As long as the human race retained a sliver of hope, the Emperor would not rise from the Golden Throne. With so many Primarchs now returned to the Imperium, their strength should preserve a portion of humanity as well.
It was a near-perfect plan: as long as he didn't consume all of humanity, the Dark King would not manifest—and even if he did, without the sacrifice of all humans he would not be as strong as legend claimed.
But now, a flaw had appeared: the Emperor likely knew something. He had laid a deliberate trap—one Fulgrim longed for so badly that even knowing it was bait, he could hardly resist.
A supreme physical form that could walk the material universe—this was too important. With such a body, and backed by the might of Chaos, he would be invincible in realspace.
As long as no complete C'tan existed, he would be unmatched. If this dimensional avatar truly existed, he had to seize it.
But how he seized it mattered. He could borrow others' strength and reap the prize at the last moment.
Once this dimensional avatar appeared, other Chaos gods—perhaps even the lesser god Vashtorr—would covet it.
Still, he could not be certain the plan targeted him alone; it might be the Emperor's gambit against other Chaos Gods.
Because they wouldn't be the only ones to receive the news. The birth of an Emperor Avatar would now be known to all Chaos powers—and even to hostile forces in realspace beyond the Imperium.
If it were aimed at him alone, Fulgrim would never go in person. After all, even without a body to walk the material world, once fused with the godshard he would be a supreme, undying being.
So he meant to summon his Chaos vassals and discuss a concrete war plan. In this conflict, his true body should preferably not act at all.
If he had to move personally, he would ensure other Chaos forces engaged alongside him, drawing some of the fire. Once he secured the prize, he would immediately retreat to the Warp and hide.
As Fulgrim pondered, the entire upper echelon of Slaanesh Chaos under his banner arrived. Since Fulgrim had begun fusing with the godshard, the Slaanesh Daemon Princes, Greater Daemons, and Champions had all sensed it.
Now, unless that woman emerged again to contest the godhead with him, every other Slaanesh force would acknowledge him as king.
"Our highest reverence, our most perfect blessings to you, great master!" All the Chaos daemons, cultists, and Astartes knelt, speaking in unison.
Fulgrim's fingertips traced the arm of the crystal throne. Profane runes of Chaos coursed across his purple-black armor.
Gazing upon the kneeling Daemon Princes, Greater Daemons, Champions, and Lords, Fulgrim's voice hissed like a serpent: "My servants! I am about to become the new Slaanesh. I will ascend as a Chaos God. When that day comes, I promise you all a boon, for you were the first to follow me."
"Thank you, great master! Thank you for your grace!" The daemons, mortal believers, and Chaos Astartes all prostrated themselves.
Fulgrim raised a hand for silence.
"My servants, I have received vital intelligence. That Emperor Avatar—the primordial-type extradimensional bioweapon—is of tremendous importance to me.
"I must obtain it. With it, after I ascend as a true Chaos god, I shall wield unmatched might in both the Immaterium and realspace. I will lead you to an unprecedented pinnacle."
"Give the word, great master! All fallen Chaos fleets stand ready. All mortal believers will offer themselves willingly in sacrifice. Countless armies will muster beneath your banner," a Daemon Prince declared.
"I am at a critical stage of fusion, so unless necessary, I will not join this mission personally. This war will require you," Fulgrim said.
"Trust your gene-sons, great gene-father! We will complete the task. We will seize what you desire and present it to you—to the great Chaos God," a Chaos Astartes shouted.
The happiest of all at Fulgrim's impending apotheosis were they—for Fulgrim was their father, their genetic sire. If their father became a Chaos God, his sons would receive the greatest rewards. They would fight for him.
"At such a critical moment, the loyalty of my gene-sons is especially precious," Fulgrim replied, satisfied.
"Great master, we also stand ready to serve—but we've received troubling reports," a Daemon Prince said.
"Oh? Unfriendly reports? Speak," Fulgrim asked.
"To my knowledge, the Warmaster of Chaos, Abaddon, has also learned of this. He is assembling his Black Legion, seeking to lay hands upon the prototype Emperor Avatar.
"And according to reliable intelligence, that former so-called Child of Slaanesh was never truly a child of Slaanesh—merely an Emperor Avatar infused with Slaanesh power," said a Keeper of Secrets.
Since that woman had relinquished her godhead and power, the Greater Daemons had gradually lost contact with her.
Greater Daemons are said to be part of their patron gods—intimately bound—and theoretically never betray them.
They are absolutely loyal—save for one exception: if you abandon the Chaos God's throne. Once abandoned, the Greater Daemons cease to be yours. They become masterless until a new Slaanesh is born.
In theory, during that period they could even vie for the god-seat themselves. But never in history had a Chaos God voluntarily relinquished their throne, so there was no precedent to follow.
"The Chaos Warmaster Abaddon, eh? Seems he wants this mysterious creation too. Besides him, who else covets it?" Fulgrim asked.
Behind the Warmaster stood the lesser Chaos God Vashtorr. That one's situation was somewhat similar yet different: one would inherit a Chaos God's godshard, the other would become a fifth Chaos God, sovereign over all machinery.
Either way, the primordial Emperor Avatar would tempt them. Hence Abaddon's move.
If Abaddon moved, what of the other Chaos Gods? Khorne, Tzeentch, Nurgle?
Ah—perhaps Nurgle no longer qualified. The disastrous defeat in the Plague War had cost him dearly. His Daemon Princes and Great Unclean Ones had fallen in droves. His Champions and Chosen were devastated. Even his Primarch had been captured—Mortarion, that imbecile.
He had once again lowered the bar for all Primarchs—but no matter. Fulgrim would raise their ceiling.
"Great master, Nurgle shows no movement. He's grievously weakened. He can't muster a decent army. The Death Guard have suffered catastrophic losses," a Noise Marine reported.
"Lord, Nurgle is no threat. As for Tzeentch, no one knows what the Changer and his myriad Lords of Change intend," said a mortal cult leader.
The Thousand Sons under the four gods had taken heavy blows. Their chosen, Ahriman, had vanished for certain reasons, with many Astartes disappearing alongside him. No one knew where they'd gone.
There were rumors Magnus was recalling veterans of ten millennia past—the Rubric had been summoned as well.
Magnus himself had returned to the Imperium. The Thousand Sons believed their father had abandoned them. The mortal forces under Tzeentch were dealt a heavy blow.
Only those Imperial warbands who had defected to the Changer could still be of some use.
"As for the Blood God's hosts, they remain intact. No one knows what they plan, but if there's a great battle, they'll be there—that's certain," a Daemon Prince added.
Where there is war, there they appear—and they will bring war across the stars.
"So the only forces that can truly threaten us are Abaddon's Black Legion and Khorne's World Eaters," Fulgrim concluded.
"Great master, your true rival is only Abaddon. He is your greatest adversary," said a Chaos warband leader.
Indeed, the only real competitor was the Chaos Warmaster Abaddon. Only by defeating him could they claim the Imperial prize.
"Or we could let Abaddon and the Imperium bleed each other dry. Abaddon will surely launch a major assault on Vigilus," someone suggested.
"This mission is both arduous and vital. I expect you to pass my test. Whoever it is, by whatever means—if you can bring that extradimensional lifeform before me, I will reward you. If you are a Greater Daemon, I will grant you more primordial power. If a Daemon Prince, I shall award you a new world as your demesne and bestow greater divine strength.
"If a Chaos Champion or Lord, I shall raise you to Daemon Prince; even Chaos Astartes will have chances to become Champions and Lords," Fulgrim declared.
The Slaanesh Daemon Princes, mortal believers, Astartes, and Greater Daemons cheered.
…
Elsewhere, the Chaos Warmaster Abaddon, upon receiving confirmation, prepared to depart with all his Chaos Astartes.
He would go to Vigilus to seize the primordial Emperor Avatar and deliver it to Vashtorr in exchange for greater support.
But the arrival of an uninvited guest disrupted his plans.