Four Gods as One

He began to "reinterpret" the Four-Armed Emperor.

He gathered his core followers in a more secluded place and began preaching his "advanced theology."

"Brothers, have you ever wondered why our savior is the Emperor of Four Arms?" he asked mysteriously.

They looked at one another. It was a question they had never considered. In their minds, the Progenitor had always possessed four arms, as naturally as the sun gave off light.

Liu Zhipeng smiled.

"Because each arm represents a sacred power! A path to 'ascension'!"

He picked up a red ore crystal and held it high.

"Look! The first arm represents 'strength' and 'wrath'! Day after day, we are oppressed by overseers and exploited by the governor. Is there truly no anger in our hearts? This anger is not a sin! It is sacred! It is the strength bestowed upon us by the Progenitor! The Progenitor wishes for us to use this rage to shatter the shackles binding us! Let us cry out His first sacred name—Khorne! He is the God of Strength, the embodiment of wrath! His gift is courage!"

The followers' blood boiled. For the first time, the resentment and fury in their hearts had been given a "sacred" meaning.

Liu Zhipeng then picked up a piece of corrosive moss that gave off a green phosphorescent glow.

"The second arm represents 'resilience' and 'rebirth'! We live in filth, alongside sickness and plague. Yet we have not fallen! Every illness has made us stronger! This resilience is the Progenitor's trial, and also His blessing! He tells us that the end of decay is rebirth! Let us praise His second name—Nurgle! He is the Lord of Resilience, the loving Father God! His gift is hope that never despairs!"

To miners who had spent their lives amid disease and workplace injuries, this theory struck straight at their hearts. For the first time, they felt that their scars and illnesses were no longer suffering, but "medals."

Then Liu Zhipeng pointed toward a patch of bizarre, twisted colored crystal on the chapel's dome, formed by geological shifts.

"The third arm represents 'wisdom' and 'change'! An unchanging life is hell! We yearn for change! And change requires wisdom! The Progenitor wishes for us to think, to design, to create opportunities for change! His third name is Tzeentch! He is the Lord of Change, the Weaver of Fate! His gift is wisdom!"

At last, Liu Zhipeng spread his arms and spoke in a voice full of temptation:

"And the fourth arm represents 'joy' and 'sensation'! We have been deprived of every pleasure! But the Progenitor tells us that pursuing joy is not corruption! It is our right as human beings! Every heartfelt laugh, every satisfaction from tasting good food, every warmth of embracing family, is an answer to His call! His fourth name is Slaanesh! He is the paradise of bliss, the Prince of Sensation! His gift is every beautiful experience!"

Thus, he concocted a complete new theological system for the Four-Armed Emperor, founded on the four Chaos Gods.

This theory had been tailor-made for Viridia's miners. It perfectly answered every yearning in their hearts: their desire for strength, their need to explain suffering, their hope for change, and their longing for joy.

It was a hundred times more concrete, seductive, and profound than Vaughn's hollow doctrine of "waiting for salvation"!

"The Four-Armed Emperor... so He is a great god of four-in-one!"

"Khorne! Nurgle! Tzeentch! Slaanesh!"

The followers fervently chanted these four brand-new "divine names," feeling as though the gate to a new world was slowly opening before them.

Liu Zhipeng watched their fervor and smiled with satisfaction.

He knew that when this theory spread through the cult's lower ranks like a plague, it would be the moment Vaughn and his old era were buried for good.

A grand struggle for power in the name of "religious reform" had officially begun. And this planet's entire atmosphere was about to race headlong in an utterly bizarre direction that no one could have foreseen.

The fire of "new theology" ignited by Liu Zhipeng swept across the dark, oppressive lower levels of Viridia Prime's mining districts with unimaginable speed.

The theory was simply too seductive. Like a key, it precisely unlocked the deepest hidden lock in every miner's heart. It told them that anger was sacred, suffering was glorious, change was possible, and joy was legitimate. This stood in stark contrast to the Ecclesiarchy's stale rhetoric telling them to endure, obey, and serve the Emperor after death, as well as High Priest Vaughn's empty promises urging them to wait passively in despair.

Soon, the cult's daily activities began to grow increasingly bizarre.

During breaks, groups of miners no longer numbly chewed nutrient paste. Instead, they gathered together and beat discarded metal into rhythmic war drums, chanting battle songs in low voices to praise Khorne, the God of Strength.

Their eyes were no longer hollow, but burned with suppressed rage. Whenever some foolhardy overseer came looking for trouble, dozens of bloodshot eyes would often glare him away. That almost tangible killing intent could even cause logical malfunctions in the semi-mechanical slave foremen.

In the residential districts with the worst sanitation and most rampant disease, some believers organized themselves. They no longer regarded the sick as burdens, instead calling them "those blessed by the kindly Father Nurgle."

They set up crude infirmaries and used stolen medicine and herbs, combined with prayers, to care for the sick. They discovered that amid such active mutual aid, many people's survival rates actually rose miraculously. A sickly yet resilient communal solidarity quietly took shape amid the stench and plague.

Among the technical workers, miners who understood machinery and blasting became loyal believers of Tzeentch, the Lord of Change. They no longer completed their work by the book, but began secretly conducting all manner of "experiments."

They would "accidentally" alter blasting plans, weakening a section of rock supporting the upper noble district; they would "unintentionally" implant a tiny logic bomb into the control program of an ore conveyor belt, causing it at a critical moment to dump an entire cartload of ore down the governor's private elevator shaft. These little "changes" brought endless thrills and amusement to their dull lives.

As for the followers of Slaanesh, the Prince of Bliss, they were even harder to guard against. They became the cult's artists and hedonists. They used fluorescent fungi to paint twisted, dazzling murals across the dark walls, and fashioned instruments from discarded pipes that produced strange, enchanting sounds.

They even founded a "Gourmet Appreciation Society," dedicated to studying how to make the waxy nutrient paste "burst with flavor" by adding all sorts of strange spices, such as a sweet-smelling mold. They even began holding small "fashion shows" within the cult, designing all sorts of post-apocalyptic "haute couture" garments from rags and metal parts.