You were gradually ensnared from head to toe by sticky, slick, disgusting tentacles. You could not control any part of your body—not even your eyelids.
All you could do was watch as nine cultists lifted you high into the air.
You slowly moved toward the city center, like a sacrificial offering about to be served upon Chaos's table.
You tried to shift your gaze, only to realize in sorrow that there no longer seemed to be anyone in the entire city capable of saving you.
The streets had become ruins, littered with dead Cadian soldiers and local defenders. Leman Russ Tanks burned fiercely, Thunderhawk Gunships had crashed to the ground... You even saw a suit of Terminator Power Armour half-kneeling beneath a sea of cultist corpses. Even such a powerful Astartes had fallen...
The Imperium's resistance and counterattack had failed.
In your despair, you gradually realized that the planet before you had seemingly been completely occupied by Chaos, transformed into a fallen Death World.
For every nine meters they advanced, a cultist draped in purple robes emerged from some dark corner of the city. Carrying a bloody mortal corpse as an offering, it joined the grand carnival procession with joy on its face.
They praised. They prayed. They called out.
You wanted to roar. You wanted to curse them out. Yet you seemed powerless to do anything.
You were overcome by grief, and your mind seemed to have slipped into an abnormal state.
Faint murmurs began to whisper by your ears.
As the cultists continued onward, even the sky gradually filled with a terrifying purple radiance.
The air reeked of nauseating Chaos taint and blood. Sect priests carrying staffs, their hoods constantly echoing with chanted prayers, also joined the procession.
Countless mortal corpses, regardless of age or sex, were dragged aloft by strands of purple radiance... Some among them were still alive, wailing and struggling.
Your eyes were bloodshot, and your head swam.
You stubbornly resisted Chaos's corruption. You remained loyal.
Lost in a daze, you began to pray sincerely to The Emperor, begging for His mercy to descend...
The grand sacrificial procession reached its end. Dazzling purple radiance reflected across the sky, while every building in the city center was covered in layers of sticky, stinking mortal flesh.
A massive pedestal of flesh, nourished by the bodies of hundreds of millions of mortals, towered over the city center. Above it, a Chaos Portal hundreds of meters tall nearly split open half the sky, filling your hazy, muddled vision.
Countless Pink Horrors and Blue Horrors bounced and danced around the flesh pedestal.
They screeched. They sang. They repeatedly chanted spells whose effects were unknown.
Guarded by innumerable minions of Chaos, a gigantic two-headed birdman with black wings and white robes stared at you with both avian heads, clearly fascinated as the cultists held you aloft.
"Oh, pitiful yet fortunate mortal..." One of the birdman's long beaks clacked together, emitting terrifying low cries, while the other immediately voiced its admiration. "My lord has blessed us... Is this him?"
One crazed-eyed cultist after another passed you beneath the two-headed birdman.
Pink Horrors crawled onto your back, straining to prop up your body so that you had to face an even more terrifying sight.
The two-headed birdman flapped its enormous wings a few times, its two heads swaying back and forth as it strolled toward you.
One avian head called itself Carlos, the Weaver of Fates of Tzeentch, while the other let out a low, mocking laugh... Merely hearing the restrained whispers of the two-headed birdman made your brain begin to scream madly, as if your will was about to collapse.
Bloody tears flowed from your forcibly opened eyes. For a moment, you wished you were dead, and you kept praying to The Emperor...
Carlos, the Weaver of Fates, seemed to see through your foolish thoughts. One of its avian heads relentlessly mocked you, saying that the sorcery-playing salted meat would not descend because this world was protected by its divine master... The other avian head continuously whispered temptations.
Your arrival and disappearance had already drawn the attention of the Chaos Gods. Even if the sorcery-playing salted meat had tried its best to conceal your traces, fortunate you had still appeared within Chaos territory.
As long as you nodded and agreed, you would gain everything you desired...
Power, knowledge, wealth—everything that existed in the universe.
If you willingly joined Chaos, the Chaos Gods would surely elevate you into a Daemon Prince. You would no longer have to endure the troubles of life and death, nor fear the hostility of that salted meat... One of Carlos's avian heads coaxed you patiently.
"Long thought seeks knowledge, abundant knowledge thirsts for thought. Only holy Tzeentch shall never be ensnared." The other avian head twisted and swayed, voicing a piercing praise.
As though Carlos's praise had drawn the gaze of a Chaos God, the massive Chaos Portal in your vision began to tremble and distort without pause. Purple radiance completely enveloped the planet, and countless Chaos Demons lowered their heads and knelt beneath the flesh pedestal.
Even Carlos, the Weaver of Fates, spread its enormous wings and slowly lowered both avian heads toward the portal.
The murmurs lingering beside your ears grew even more terrifying. Your eyes seemed to reach their limit, shattering and bursting apart...
But just as you fell into darkness, you seemed to see through the purple radiance of the Chaos Portal...
A phantom white serpent writhing and crawling in place.
A blue djinn with no neck, every inch of its skin covered in faces bearing different expressions, each face repeating the words spoken by the master head in a different tone.
A mass of multicolored mist that could not make sounds itself, yet whispered through the echoes between nearby buildings.
A green-skinned man in an ancient gray suit, with an indescribable purple halo floating where his face should have been...
Your thoughts seemed to freeze.
Only one unrecognizable yet deeply engraved, terrifying word echoed over and over in your mind.
Tzeentch.
Accept it...
Throw yourself into Chaos...
Embrace His blessing and become a Daemon Prince who shook the cosmic sea of stars...
Even more terrifying murmurs completely pierced your mind.
Your sanity was about to collapse. Chaos was about to corrupt your will.
You were already on the brink of death...
In your fading consciousness, you seemed to see a flickering spark within endless darkness.
It was the flame of your wavering life, your loyal heart.
Suddenly, a phantom hand appeared beside the spark, shielding the endlessly swaying flame from the surrounding darkness.
You looked desperately and discovered that it belonged to a Catachan veteran who had once fought at your side. He stood silently beside the flame and smiled at you.
At the same time, another phantom hand appeared beside the flame. It belonged to the Cadian Watch Sergeant who had died beside you. Wearing a Breathing Mask, he or she said nothing, merely raising a thumb toward you.
One phantom hand after another appeared beside the flame, shielding you from the darkness.
You suddenly realized that the owners of those phantom hands were the mortals who had died on the Chaos-occupied planet, the fallen Cadian soldiers and local defenders, and the Astartes who had exhausted themselves unto death in service of their loyalty.
They spoke no words. They merely guarded the flame in silence, smiling at you as they watched.
You had never fought alone... You fought for them, and for all humanity.
"Tzeentch... get out of my head!"
With your head splitting apart and death drawing near, you suddenly let out a murmur that gradually grew louder.
"For The Emperor—"
I noticed many friends think the protagonist will join Chaos and accept its blessing?
Haha, I was only trying to show the Chaos side of things.
You are not loyal at all!
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