"No... I can't give up like this yet..."
The whisper echoed through the warlord's mind. Time seemed to slow. The particle whip should have struck him long ago, reducing him to a cloud of drifting particles, yet that moment still had not arrived.
"There is still one god... one more god who can help us... Black Muse..."
Black Muse? The warlord had never heard the name of this god, but what choice did he have now? In his despair, he prayed to Black Muse, hoping this god would grant him the power of vengeance.
Where did Black Muse's power manifest within the Warp? Amid the earth-shaking battle between Khorne's daemon horde and The Emperor's Slaanesh, this shadow-like ripple was utterly inconspicuous. Yet this inconspicuous power played a tremendous role.
The warlord's body was like a deflating balloon, while Black Muse was like a pump, continuously gathering power from the Warp and pouring it into him. The warlord's consciousness faded as he stepped toward death, leaving behind only profound despair and unwillingness. Black Muse magnified that despair and resentment, stirring Nurgle's mind within the rotting garden.
"My child... he is dead..." Isha wept in heartbreak.
Grandfather, too, sighed mournfully. He felt it was necessary to act in person so that Isha could see her child one last time. He set down the spoon in his hand and rose from the little stool upon which he had sat for countless ages. He bade Isha farewell, indicating that he would soon bring her child home.
The Lord of Nurgle's movement brought change to the entire rotting realm. These flowerbeds, mud pits, withered forests, and rotten grass were all parts of Grandfather's great power. Perhaps those trees had sprouted when Grandfather scratched his head, and the turf had fallen from his body.
The Warp's