Nurgle could not help but glance at Tzeentch upon hearing that term. All conflicts between the Warp and the material universe could be classified as part of the Great Game. Yet Tzeentch seemed to mean something more. He mysteriously pointed upward twice, then said nothing further.
"Are you certain?" Nurgle asked.
Tzeentch nodded. "Yes, of course I'm certain! I just need your and Khorne's help... and Slaanesh's as well, though she can no longer be counted on."
Nurgle sighed as he looked at Tzeentch.
He knew Tzeentch had always been full of ideas, hiding in his labyrinth and muttering cryptically as he interpreted fate and prophecies. But he had never been very reliable either. The nature of change made it difficult for him to stay focused on bringing anything to fruition. More often than not, he would suddenly lose his mind halfway through, overturn his old scheme, then cheerfully lay out a new plan with the exact opposite objective.
If Khorne came running over and said, "Hey! Nurgle, I have a plan."
Nurgle would believe him. Khorne's nature ensured that he would remain utterly focused on achieving his goal, and his methods were relatively simple and brutal.
He needed to confirm Tzeentch's nature first—to see whether his orderly aspect of change outweighed his chaotic aspect.
Having thought it through, Nurgle raised another question. "Then what about your End Times? Did you abandon it halfway?"
Tzeentch smiled and said that was impossible. The End Times had always been progressing. He would never let so many elaborate preparations go to waste.
What were the End Times?
Tzeentch had first encountered this concept while observing a thread of fate. In that thread, the destinies of many races had been tied to a single planet. Close-quarters combat filled with martial fervor had become the