After a while, Nurgle arrived. Only Nurgle arrived; there was no sign of Slaanesh or Khorne.
"Where are those two?" Tzeentch asked.
Nurgle did not even glance at Tzeentch as he replied in a muffled voice, "Aren't you the self-proclaimed Lord of Fate? Why are you asking me?"
Tzeentch was irritated by his old rival's jab. He could see how events unfolded across the endless river of time, but that depended on the circumstances. Beings on his own level, such as the other gods, were exceptionally complicated and time-consuming to observe, and mistakes were easy to make. That was why Tzeentch had failed to notice, in earlier ages, that Khorne and Nurgle had joined forces with the unborn Slaanesh to undermine his schemes.
Nurgle was quite pleased by Tzeentch's silence. He chuckled twice, his voice rattling with phlegm, then generously told Tzeentch, "They're busy watching a show..."
"Watching a show?"
"Recently, that little liar came up with the position of Warmaster and made Lion, Horus, Sanguinius, and the others compete for it."
"Oh..." Tzeentch knew about this, but he had not expected those two idiots, Khorne and Slaanesh, to skip the gods' meeting just to watch a show.
"Then why aren't you watching?" Tzeentch asked again.
Nurgle gave a lazy yawn. "I've already picked my candidates. The rest will follow fate. One is no loss, two is a huge profit." Having said that, Nurgle resumed picking at the rotten skin and decayed flesh on his body, collecting it to make a new Old Tang for Isha, the Goddess of Life.
Tzeentch fell silent, not because he was speechless at Nurgle's laid-back attitude, but because he was extending his gaze to check on Khorne and Slaanesh.
Just as Nurgle had said, the two gods of different domains were sprawled before screens