The Chaos God known as the "Grandfather," Nurgle, laughed loudly in the garden he so meticulously tended, for his nemesis had suffered damage to his essence.
Countless mosquitoes, flies, and maggots shook loose from his rotten, diseased body and fell into the cauldron before him, where innumerable diseases and pains were being stirred and brewed.
"Perhaps this was a rare source of joy in the endless void?"
A decadent voice, neither male nor female, whispered by the ear like a lover's soft murmur, stirring an indescribable longing in the depths of the listener's heart.
Accompanied by pink mist and an omnipresent fragrance, the Dark Prince, Slaanesh, Lord of Pleasure, arrived.
The wills of Khorne, Nurgle, and Slaanesh gathered within Tzeentch's domain, mocking Tzeentch's momentary weakness.
As the gods gathered once more, the Lords of Change clenched their claws tightly, making the scepters in their hands creak. The last time the gods had come, their master had broken the Staff of Change. What would happen this time?
The Master of Change sat cross-legged in the void, calm and unfathomable. His gaze swept over the soul in his hand as yet another plan took shape.
Slowly, he spoke in a hoarse, mysterious tone. "A soul erupted from the Well of Eternity. It injured my body."
The gods' gazes were drawn to the translucent red soul in Tzeentch's hand. They temporarily stopped mocking his weakness, their expressions turning grave.
Although the power of the Four Chaos Gods rose and fell with major events in the real universe, their overall strength remained roughly equal. A soul capable of injuring Tzeentch could naturally injure them as well. It was worth taking seriously.
"Lies! Another trap." Nurgle spoke disdainfully, believing Tzeentch had merely woven another scheme to toy with the gods for his amusement.
"Hand it over." Khorne sensed endless rage within the soul, perfectly aligned with his authority.
The crimson blood clouds outside Tzeentch's domain darkened further as Khorne gathered divine power, ready to seize it by force.
Slaanesh said nothing. Her will watched the pure, utterly untainted soul with great interest.
Her true body, far away in her divine realm, extended a long tongue to lick her lips, wishing to taste this soul that looked so delicious.
The Master of Change remained impassive on the surface, but he nearly laughed aloud at the reactions of the gods of the Warp. With a tremble of his withered arm, he cast the soul into the ever-changing Warp and said, "Take it."
The Warp churned as the soul flew out of Tzeentch's domain, immediately drawing the three Chaos Gods into a struggle for it.
Their wills became tentacles and nets, stirring up towering waves in the Sea of Souls as they swept toward that faint red glow.
Perhaps the Master of Change had arranged it deliberately, for the wills of the three Chaos Gods touched the mysterious soul from an unknown place at almost the exact same instant.
"Tzeentch! Are you trying to start another war?" Beneath Khorne's furious roar lay pain he was struggling to endure.
The moment his will touched the soul, it felt as though it had been scorched by fire. The God of War angrily questioned the God of Schemes.
Slaanesh and Nurgle fared no better. The former sank into pain and let out a blissful moan, while the latter grunted and forcibly endured the agony rising from the depths of his soul.
The Master of Change was secretly delighted, and his words were no less merciless. The countless mouths across his body slowly and cheerfully spoke the same sentence. "The sincerity of my words was plain to see. You refused to believe me, so you have only yourselves to blame."
"My god!"
The Lords of Change cried out excitedly. The God of Schemes had toyed with the gods in the palm of his hand without even needing to use a scheme.
All Four Chaos Gods had suffered harm, which meant none of them had truly gained an advantage. They were back on the same level, and none could mock the others.
The games between gods had always been like this. Even the slightest gain or loss of face was worth spending endless time dwelling upon.
"Hmph." Having suffered a hidden loss, Khorne began planning how to attack Tzeentch's divine realm next time, but there was something more important at hand.
The pure soul from an unknown origin had grown another size after absorbing the Warp energy carried by the wills of the three gods.
The gods' gazes could peer into its soul, yet they could not see through its essence.
The soul seemed to have completed some form of evolution. It slowly began absorbing the free-floating power in the Warp, yet its essence remained immaculate, glowing red and utterly pure.
The Master of Change put away his smile. The gods' gazes focused on the soul once more. Every god waited for an opportunity, eager to make a move.
It could absorb the energy of the Sea of Souls without paying any price, without being tainted by the power of the Warp.
Its essence was anything but ordinary. If they could uncover its secret or devour it, they would surely gain enormous benefits.
The gods remained locked in place. They wanted to seize it, but they also had to guard against the others. A chain of suspicion formed between them once more; any rash move would invite a joint attack.
"It now possesses the strength of a lesser daemon."
Nurgle's voice buzzed as he reminded the gods that they should act quickly. Letting things continue like this was not a solution.
No one knew the limits of the red soul's ability to absorb energy.
The longer they delayed, the worse it would become. If it had no limit and continued absorbing energy, the Warp might give birth to a "new god."
"Place it in my domain. I will savor that pain properly while studying it."
Slaanesh's voice was sweet and enticing. She seemed not to have recovered from her earlier pleasure. Her true body lay limp and powerless on the soft bed in her palace, overwhelmed by a bliss too exquisite to describe.
"Get lost!" Khorne rejected his nemesis's suggestion with blunt brevity.
That wanton bitch would surely defile the soul's essence.
Khorne and Slaanesh had been natural enemies from birth.
One was a warrior of harsh self-discipline, while the other was a bitch of unrestrained indulgence.
The Blood God Khorne dreamed of gripping Slaanesh by the throat, strangling his godly sibling of limitless depravity with his own hands, and completely erasing the source of indulgence.
Khorne hesitated, considering whether he could offer a price that would move the other gods. He was determined to obtain the red soul; the endless fury within it suited his tastes perfectly.
"I have a proposal." The mouths on the Master of Change's body, which endlessly spoke of secrets, transformed into eyes that saw through all things. His voice came from nowhere as he spoke leisurely.
"Agreed."
"Agreed."
"Speak your lie."
The last speaker was the least willing among the gods to cooperate and never stopped mocking Tzeentch.
The Master of Change glanced toward Nurgle's position, his gaze full of scorn and contempt, yet he did not take it to heart.
"We currently have no way to unravel its essence. Then let us allow it to develop. Place it at the border where our four divine realms meet and observe it. Whatever changes occur, we will know immediately."
"I agree." After some thought, Khorne was the first to nod. For now, it was indeed a feasible solution and did not favor any side.
"I agree as well." Nurgle accepted the proposal too. He liked stalemates, but not meaningless ones.
"Let me deliver it to the border between our domains." Slaanesh was impatient to touch the red soul and experience that extraordinary pain and pleasure once again.
"Get lost!" Khorne roared. He had already regarded the soul as his forbidden possession and would never allow that bitch to defile it.
He decisively stirred up a Warp storm and, without touching it, used the waves of the Warp to carry the soul to the border where the four gods' domains met.
Once he had done all this, Khorne's will was the first to depart, heading for the edge of his domain to observe the soul he favored.
When all was done, the gods left one by one, and the Warp fell into a brief calm.
Strife between the gods never ceased. New schemes and wars lay concealed beneath the calm.
As for Du Mu, he had no thoughts or awareness now and knew nothing of what was happening outside.
He did not know that he had already caught the attention of the Four Chaos Gods. His soul, fused with the essence of the Doom Slayer, drifted at the border of the four gods' domains, jointly guarded by Greater Daemons and daemon armies sent by all four.
Because of his arrival, the Warp had fallen into a delicate balance. The four gods distrusted and guarded against one another, constantly reinforcing their borders to avoid suffering losses the moment a conflict broke out.
Meanwhile, the instigator of it all continued absorbing Warp energy and growing stronger.
Neither Du Mu nor the system knew that, because time in the Warp was uncertain, they had not arrived in 40K.
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