In a corner of the Warp that no detector could find, three vast consciousnesses gathered. Before them lay a star map spanning the entire Galaxy.
The card table should have seated four, but one spot sat empty. The three Chaos Gods had long since grown used to the Kobold's absence. It was obvious that the mutt had run off to the other side, forming a little faction with The Accursed and Hogg—a pair of shameless traitors.
Ten thousand years ago, the game had been four against one—or four against one and a half, at most. Now it had become three against three. But that couldn't stop the Three Ruinous Powers from meddling behind the scenes. After all, no matter how the contest played out, Chaos would always be the winner.
Nurgle Fatty was in bad shape. Every so often, he would blurt out a few Nurgle-esque promises. Even the Nurglings frolicking on him would suddenly let out a Waaaagh!! and impale their playmates with claws and pus.
Tzeentch, on the other hand, had been getting beaten and kicked around by everyone, but he was different. Endless change had made him stronger by the day. By now, even he didn't know what he was thinking.
As for Slaanesh, the weakest of the three, he had already been trapped when he captured Hogg ten thousand years ago, and had lost a great deal of power. But humanity's ever-growing emotional energies had restored him to his former strength—at the cost of something he'd rather keep secret.
The Dark Prince's old form, both male and female, had disappeared. Now he had become a man-eating temptress with a massive serpent's tail.
In just ten thousand years, all three Chaos Gods had changed to varying degrees. But they would never truly perish. With the Great Rift