Ever since that earth-shattering explosion, the once-familiar Sea of Souls had changed beyond recognition. Psionic Crystal Clusters were everywhere, diluting and neutralizing the filthy, chaotic psychic energies.
It was like pouring hydrochloric acid into a fish tank. The very first wave of changes had killed who knew how many Warp natives.
Fortunately, there was no shortage of life in this world. Chaos Daemons could never be wiped out completely. As long as life and death continued to cycle, the emotions of all living beings would wash over the Warp again and again, and it would go on producing new creations.
Demons and all kinds of strange things aside, after the Sea of Souls had been thoroughly polluted, Psionic Energy had indeed become an indispensable force in the Warp. And that was only what showed on the surface.
On a deeper conceptual level, the chains that had once bound the entities of the Warp had shattered. The Chaos Gods who had merged with the Emperor were especially badly affected. Even the Yellow Weasel had to be amputated from the neck down; their condition could only be worse than the Emperor's. They had been thoroughly filled.
The one most deeply affected was Slaanesh, whose relationship with Hogg was anything but clear. Even Hogg himself hadn't expected this to happen.
As the Lord of Desire lay on the bed, Shalaxi Helbane—the most powerful Greater Daemon under Slaanesh—stood there dazed like a lowly minion, her gaze drifting toward her master every now and then.
The Six-Ring Silver Palace, once extravagant and steeped in debauchery at every turn, had changed beyond recognition. It was now overrun with enormous Psionic Crystal Clusters.
The Six-Ring Silver Palace was still the same place of desire. Its ceaseless revels went on, and so did the dancers who offered the