The Path of Ascension

The torrent from the Warp began to bear Vash'tor's body aloft,

Time, frozen by the Old Ones within the Vault of the Old Ones, began to flow. The wails of those sacrifices rang without end, while their faith in Vicious Artistry drove Vash'tor's ascension.

In an instant, countless machines wailed within the Warp, iron howled, and cruel assembly lines of slaughter emerged, producing one horrifying, terrifying weapon after another.

Chlorine gas, incendiary bombs, Agent Orange, mustard gas, automatic weapons, cobalt bombs, biological weapons, genetic weapons. These dreadful weapons had been born from arms races of the past, creating echoes in the Warp and dwelling within the Domains of Vicious Artistry.

Now, these vicious echoes were released, piled into layer upon layer of stairs, becoming boundless potential that drove the path of ascension.

That potential was so immense that even Vash'tor himself could neither control nor resist it.

With a raised hand, clouds of smoke formed from countless blended poisonous gases swirled through the air.

When he looked back, he saw innumerable guns, cannons, and weapons raging and roaring behind him.

When he opened his eyes, the blazing furnaces of countless blood-and-sweat factories reflected within them.

Surely, the potential that had once borne Nurgle, Khorne, and Tzeentch into ascension had been just as immense, so immense that they had become the most extreme forms the moment they were born, becoming the most malignant divinities.

The blade-like metallic wings behind Vash'tor suddenly spread wide. Furnace fire erupted from the void, becoming screaming, roaring craftsmen who swung flaming hammers against Vash'tor's wings, continuously iterating them, renewing them, making them soar ever faster, until they ultimately surpassed the limits of the Material Universe and carried him straight toward the clouds of the Empyrean.

At this moment, all confusion in his mind vanished as the