Desire Steeds galloped, sweet scents filling the air. Each time a hoof struck a blasphemous symbol, the resulting ripples in the Warp buffeted the wavering projections of souls.
The souls of this world's intelligent beings became riddled with tiny holes, like sponges, under the assault of those faint Warp ripples. Slaanesh's power saturated the entire world.
The fortunate humans who had not encountered Agura suffered several days of dizziness. When they awoke again, everything in their sight had changed.
The gloomy earth and vast sky no longer had a boundary between them. A lurid god hung in the sky-a daemonic nest formed by countless Slaaneshi Daemons piled atop one another.
Slaaneshi Cultists walked unsteadily across the ground, changing their gait every six steps. If you saw a cultist in the street with arms and thighs twisted into bizarre positions, bouncing along with exceptionally "magnificent" pectorals pressed against the ceiling, do not be surprised. Check whether you yourself were hopping along upside down.
Agura's runes covered half the world. The Desire Steeds and the Supreme Rune Warband had been running without rest for five Terran months. Most of the world was now covered in Slaanesh's sigils, and the world's will was awakening.
The Commissar assembled over a hundred cavalrymen. He was somewhat dazed, unable to tell whether those before him were enemies.
Sometimes he looked back, and his cavalry were still charging in the direction indicated by his command saber. Yet he could rarely make out where his fellow cavalrymen had gone.
He heard no calls, no shouts. It was as though only the Kruger Warhorses were following him.
It doesn't matter. The pink-purple moon has risen again.
Just how many moons does this world have?
A road of flowers stretched beneath his feet, crooked and endless. Joy welled up uncontrollably