Rift

The giant stood before the throne, raising his two axes high.

He began to chant, the language ancient and distorted, each syllable causing Hassan's eardrums to bleed and his soul to tremble.

As the chanting began, the Skull Throne started to glow, and the eyes of the dead opened simultaneously, emitting a blood-red light.

And throughout the entire Hive City, there are countless other such Skull Throne.

The sky cracked open.

It's not a metaphor.

Above the Skull Throne, reality is torn open with a wound.

It started as ripples in the air, then distorted space, and finally formed a spinning, scarlet vortex.

Through the vortex, Hassan glimpsed a realm that could not possibly exist: an endless sea of blood, mountains of bones, and immortal warriors locked in eternal war.

Then they came.

The first to step out of the rift was a typical Bloodthirster — the Blood God's most beloved warrior.

It stands five meters tall, with bronze-colored skin and bat-like wings, wielding a flaming greatsword, and its eyes on its bull's head burn with the eternal flames of war.

Its roar caused the glass in half the Hive City to shatter simultaneously.

Then came the second, the third... eighty-eight Khorne 'Khorne, a number later tallied after the Adeptus Custodes was banned, but at that moment, Hassan felt it was endless.

They come in all shapes and sizes: some are like giants, some like beasts, and some are completely indescribable by human geometry. What they have in common is that they all exude a pure, extreme desire for violence.

But that's not all.

The cracks are widening and changing.

Other colors began to mix into the scarlet: a nauseating corpse green, a bizarrely shifting magical purple, and a seductive, decadent pink of desire.

A Great Unclean One squeezed out of the rift.

It was fat and bloated, with pustules constantly growing and bursting on its body. Where the yellowish-green sap dripped, metal corroded, rocks softened, and foul-smelling mushrooms and maggots grew.

It smiled kindly, opening its arms as if to embrace all living beings into its father's decaying paradise.

A flash of light, and a Tzeentch Greater Daemon appeared, its form resembling a bird with a human body.

Instead of immediately joining the slaughter, it hovered in the air, its six eyes observing everything, its beak opening and closing as it chanted a spell to alter reality.

The buildings around it began to twist and recombine, the laws of physics broke down, and gravity reversed.

Several fleeing civilians suddenly found themselves floating upwards, then were twisted into a twisted, bloody sculpture by an invisible force.

Finally, Slaanesh's messenger appeared.

It was breathtakingly beautiful, with a slender and elegant figure and skin as lustrous as pearls, yet every step it took left a mark of decay.

Its laughter, like the tinkling of silver bells, evokes the most decadent fantasies in those who hear it.

Several guards dropped their weapons, grinned foolishly as they approached it, and then their souls were drained in ecstasy.

The four Greater Daemon of Four Chaos Gods appeared on the same battlefield at the same time, a rare occurrence.

They cast wary, even hostile, glances at each other—the eternal struggle of the Chaos Gods, and their servants as well.

But at that moment, their goals were aligned: Terra, the heart of the Imperium of Man.

They have to destroy this place before that guy arrives!

The demon army surged out of the impact crater like a tidal wave, spreading towards all parts of the Hive City.

The Khorne Daemons charge ahead, seeking only slaughter and skulls; the Nurgle Daemon advance slowly but relentlessly, spreading plague; the Tzeentch Daemon cast spells from the rear, distorting reality; Slaaneshi Daemon roam the shadows, seeking the ultimate sensory experience.

The Hive Seven, with a population of 42 million, will become a true hell on earth in the next three hours.

The vanguard of the demonic tide is heading straight for the noble district.

Meanwhile, in the aristocratic district of the upper echelons of the Hive City, "Celestial Crown," life seemed to maintain a semblance of tranquility.

Earl Albert von Habsburg awoke in his palace.

This palace occupies one of the best locations in the noble district, with a viewing platform directly facing the royal palace.

Of course, only distant, blurry outlines could be seen; the palace lay above Terra's polluted clouds, a sacred realm beyond the sight of mortals.

The Earl was sixty-two years old, with silver hair that was meticulously combed, and a ruddy complexion from years of pampered life.

He sat by the four-poster bed, being dressed by two servants: first a silk shirt, then an embroidered vest, and finally a dark purple coat with gold trim, with the family crest on his left breast.

An eagle clutching a gear symbolizes the Habsburg family's influence within the Adeptus Mechanicus.

"Sir, breakfast is ready," the butler said, bowing.

The breakfast room features floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the upscale neighborhood: clean streets, meticulously maintained Garden of Nurgle (using artificial lighting and hydroponics), and hovercars coming and going.

Further away, the chaotic buildings of the lower and middle-level Hive City piled up like tumors, but these were partially obscured by cleverly designed frosted glass sections.

Breakfast included fresh fruit transported from the Agri World (via Warp jump, costing the equivalent of a company's annual pay), fried eggs from cloned poultry, and coffee made from real coffee beans.

The Earl ate his meal slowly, listening to his secretary's morning briefing.

"There were unusual energy fluctuations in the Hive Seven early this morning, suspected to be an industrial accident," the secretary read the report. "The security forces have been dispatched to handle the situation."

"Casualties?" The Earl didn't even look up.

"The initial estimate is in the thousands, mainly lower-level laborers."

The Earl nodded and cut off a piece of fruit. "Have the medical department prepare for the plague."

Furthermore, the tax officials were notified that the Hive Seven's production quota for this quarter could not be reduced as a result, and the share of the deceased laborers should be allocated to the living.

"Yes, sir."

This is the daily life of Earl Albert von Habsburg. His family has lived in Terra for a thousand years, since the time when the Emperor unified Terra.

They are not at the highest level of power; those positions belong to Planetary Governor, senators, and members of the High Lords Council.

However, they are a solid link in the power structure, controlling the approval of one-tenth of Terra's industrial production quotas.

After breakfast, the Earl went to his office.

The walls are covered with portraits of ancestors: there are Space Marines in Power Armour (a member of the family was once chosen by the Iron Hands Chapter, which is the greatest honor), Archmagos, and Inquisitor.

The largest painting depicts the family's legendary ancestor, who is said to have fought under the Emperor.

The desk was piled high with documents: applications for the expansion of the Hive City, new tax plans, pledges of allegiance from lower-ranking nobles, cooperation agreements with the Adeptus Mechanicus, and even a list of children to be selected for the initial screening of the Adeptus Custodes.

The greatest dream of every Terra noble is to have a son chosen to become part of the Emperor's royal Adeptus Custodes, which would bring glory to the family for a thousand years.

The Earl began his work. He approved the expansion plan for the Hive Seven, but at the same time lowered the safety standards for the laborers by 15% in order to "improve efficiency."

He signed new luxury tax exemption provisions, benefiting several of his in-laws.

He rejected a medical aid application from a lower- Hive City, arguing that "resources should be prioritized for those who have made greater contributions to the Imperium."

He did all of this without any psychological burden.