The Blood Curtain shuddered without end, and the outburst of a Deity's emotions brought unimaginable changes within The Warp.
The heavy curtain was slowly drawn open. The countless phantasmal things hidden within greedily stared through it at the Material Realm, and some of the more unruly ones even tried to force their way through.
The Mage gave a silent sneer.
Golden flames slowly spread through the curtain like a golden tide, shimmering with ripples of light, merging with those brilliant colors—but what they brought was not the rise and fall of life, nor was it as gentle as the ebb and flow of tides on the shores of certain worlds.
These flames brought only Destruction to The Void.
The Demons wailed, and fear began to spread. Before this, they had never experienced such a feeling. After this, they would forever lose the ability to feel at all.
Khorne roared again.
"No! No! Use blades, use weapons, use your own two hands to strangle them! You should be bathing in blood! Haven't you already tasted the ecstasy of a bloodbath? Haven't you already tasted the pleasure brought by your enemies' fear? How can you use that base, insidious Psionic power again!"
He Shenyan flicked his collar without the slightest concern. After some time, the blood had begun to dry and harden.
He smiled faintly and asked, calmly to an almost terrifying degree, "Aren't you angry over their deaths?"
"The weak are ever weak!"
Khorne said in the utmost fury. Its will and essence almost seemed ready to pierce through that tiny Blood Curtain and come before the Mage.
"The frail and useless deserve only death! Their skulls are not even worthy to become the soil of my wasteland!"
All that rage, however, vanished completely in the Mage's raised right hand—Khorne laughed