Fabius Bile, the infamous "Spider" and Grand Apothecary of the Warhammer 40,000 universe. Despite being a member of the Emperor's Children, he remains a staunch adherent of the Imperial Truth. Paradoxically, because the millions of New Men he created worship him as a god, this atheistic old chirurgeon has begun to manifest a nascent presence within the Warp. However, given the relatively small number of New Men, these are currently nothing more than faint spiritual echoes.
Whether these echoes existed or not was of no concern to Lucius; such trifles were beneath his notice. After all, he had already devoured Vashtorr the Arkifane, the demi-god of the Soul Forge who stood closest to the pantheon of Chaos.
Throt, the Master Mutator of Clan Moulder and the most trusted lieutenant of Lord Verminkin, felt his bloated, porcine body trembling with unease. His three hands gripped his weapons tightly, his fearful gaze darting blindly in every direction. Even though he was surrounded by a phalanx of Clan Moulder's Monstrous Legion, the protection of his beast-legions did little to quell his anxiety. He knew that somewhere in the unseen shadows, Deathmaster Snikch was lurking.
The mere thought filled Throt with dread.
Since that cataclysmic battle, Throt felt as though he had been struck by a divine curse, as if the Great Horned Rat and other terrifying entities had chosen his very soul as their personal battlefield. Specifically, that horrific Verminlord; though its form had mutated beyond recognition, Throt, as a regular fixture of the Council of Thirteen, could still identify it.
It was Sneek, the Nightlord, whose very name struck terror into the hearts of the other eleven Council members!
"Does the Great Horned Rat dislike-hate my presence here?" Throt wondered, but his true moment of terror was yet to come.
Several weeks after those events, as Throt prepared to rest in his custom-built rat-nest, a silhouette appeared at the foot of his bed, a figure capable of making any skaven soil themselves in absolute terror.
By the Horned Rat! As one of the highest authorities of skavendom, Throt obsessed over his security. His chambers were constantly swept by scores of attendants and the keen noses of Wolf Rats. Yet here, standing before him, was an Eshin assassin clad in a black cloak, wielding Weeping Blades that shimmered with a malevolent light even in the darkness.
This was no ordinary killer. Though the visage of the Deathmaster is never recorded, Throt knew exactly who this was: the current Deathmaster of Clan Eshin, Snikch!
"No—! Great Horned Rat, I have done no-no wrong! I... I still have value, use-utility! YES-YES!" Throt shrieked like a newborn pup, his obese frame curling into a ball as if his fat could somehow ward off the bite of the Weeping Blades.
"Come... with me," Snikch spoke with a cold indifference, as if the legendary Master Mutator's terror was simply a matter of course. Given his dark reputation, any skaven who didn't suffer a ruptured heart upon seeing him was considered a paragon of courage.
It seemed the terrifying Deathmaster wasn't there to kill him. Throt's heart slowed slightly, and only then did he receive the orders from Skavenblight via Verminkin.
The Great Horned Rat decreed that he and Snikch were to locate a "human-thing" named Fabius Bile to "exchange" biological augmentation technologies. As for whether the human would be willing to cooperate... well, that was exactly why Snikch was coming along.
…
To any follower of the lore, it is common knowledge that the "Spider" has achieved his own version of an Infinity Circuit, controlling at least twelve clones simultaneously while his primary consciousness remains hidden within the Wraithbone vaults of the Webway. However, that was irrelevant; the Skaven only needed to catch one of him.
Thanks to the frantic expansion of the Skaven Empire and their role as a "wholesale recruiter" for various Chaos Space Marine warbands, the location of Bile's clones wasn't hard to find. Through the intelligence of local ratmen and the creative interrogation of captured Chaos Space Marines, the Skaven had tracked him down.
Like Clan Moulder, Bile's clones scoured the galaxy for test subjects. His warbands were broken and reformed time and again; he cared nothing for them, nor did he care if a few clones were slain in the process.
On a Garden World within the Segmentum Pacificus, Bile led a warband in a lightning raid. While the Chaos Space Marines, a motley crew of Word Bearers and Emperor's Children, indulged in wanton slaughter, Bile went about his business, methodically selecting choice specimens for his experiments.
A las-round struck Bile's coat of human skin, leaving a charred hole. On the coat, a face that appeared to be mid-scream finally took on an expression of release as it truly died.
Bile frowned, looking toward the Planetary Defence Force soldier who had fired. "You've ruined my audience. You shall replace them. Consider yourself fortunate; you will witness the true scale of my genius firsthand."
To the accompaniment of the soldier's horrific screams, he was flayed and dismantled alive by the surgical machineries mounted on Bile's back. Through unspeakable techniques, the soldier remained conscious even as his skin was harvested and stitched onto Bile's frame to replace the damaged section.
Soon, the most valuable "assets" of the Garden World were rounded up: Imperial nobles and their numerous servants. Bile nodded with satisfaction. This was enough. He needed to extract before the Imperium could mount a response.
Suddenly, the earth began to groan. The pristine soil of the ravaged Garden World split open.
"What is that?!" the Chaos Space Marines cried out, raising their bolters in confusion. From the fissure crawled a massive, hideous beast—a hairless, mole-like monstrosity with razor-sharp claws that tore through rock and loam as if it were water before diving back underground.
Intrigued by a specimen he had never encountered, Bile ordered his men to investigate. As the Chaos Space Marines leaned over the trench, a hail of green-glowing projectiles, Warpstone shards, perforated their armor. These transhuman warriors collapsed instantly, unable to offer even a shred of resistance.
"Ambush!" Bile's centuries of experience screamed at him. Abandoning his subordinates, he moved instantly toward his shuttle.
But as he raced up the boarding ramp, he found only a tomb-like silence. Bile swallowed hard, his mind racing to identify the creature and the nature of the strike. In the deepest hold of the ship, he saw it: the corpses of dozens of Chaos Space Marines and tens of thousands of mortal crew piled into a grisly pyramid. Carved into the deck in fresh blood was a massive, inverted triangle.
"Who's there?!" Bile's mechanical chirurgeon-arms hissed as they extended to full power, his eyes scanning the gloom.
The ship felt empty of life, illuminated only by the flickering red of emergency LEDs. Slowly, a sound began to manifest in Bile's ears, a high-pitched ringing.
Tinnitus? Bile almost laughed. His post-human physiology was far beyond such mundane ailments.
But the sound was real. It shifted from the sound of rapid, frantic breathing to the gnashing of teeth, the rustle of fur, and the scuttle of a million claws. Finally, it became a cacophony of malicious, chattering whispers.
"There!" Bile snapped. His rod fired a toxic dart into the shadows. A sharp shriek rang out as an upright rat-creature tumbled into the light, its body rapidly liquefying from the venom.
"Xenos?" Bile muttered, staring at the ratman. Suddenly, the darkness was filled with a thousand pairs of glowing red eyes.
The Skaven emerged, completely encircling him. The "Spider" found himself trapped like a piece of carrion surrounded by starving vermin.
Then, an obese, three-armed rat stepped forward, flanked by several twisted Brood Horrors. His bloated face was a mask of despicable glee and sycophancy.
"Finally... finally... Yes-yes! Human-thing, do not-not be afraid! Good news~ Throt has good-great news to say-speak to you~"
Bile did not fear death. He looked at these strange Xenos with a cold, analytical gaze.
"And what," Bile asked, his voice steady and clinical, "do you want, xenos?"
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