In the tens of millions of years since Khorne's birth, he had fought countless rounds of the Great Game. He had witnessed betrayal, defeat, and Tzeentch's nauseating schemes. But he swore he had never, absolutely never, felt such blatant humiliation, such an outright grinding of his dignity into the dirt!
It enraged him ten thousand times more than defeat!
It was more unbearable than being mocked to his face by Slaanesh!
It was the most thorough contempt for and trampling of the "strength," "blood," and "honor" he embodied. The monster hiding behind the pillars had not even shown its face, yet had humiliated the entire legion of Khorne with methods fit for exterminating vermin.
"ROOOAR-!!!!!"
The dead silence shattered.
A roar capable of pulverizing countless fragile planes of the Warp erupted from deep within Khorne's throat.
Crack-rumble!
Beneath that roar, all of Khorne's Realm began to collapse violently. The dark red clouds formed from the desire for slaughter were shredded by the sound waves, and countless floating brass fortresses dropped from the sky like dumplings into a pot.
The Sea of Blood, which had only just calmed, instantly surged into towering waves tens of thousands of meters high. Countless ancient daemons sleeping in its depths were jolted awake by that fury and let out terrified wails.
"YOU! MUST! DIE!!!"
With each syllable, seemingly powerful enough to shatter Realspace, Khorne's body, too vast to measure in dimensions, slowly rose from the Brass Throne for the first time.
That movement alone made the deep structures of the Warp crack under the strain.
He reached out with a hand capable of crushing galaxies and seized the Greatsword leaning beside his throne. The sword bore no ornate decoration, only the purest concept of destruction.
The instant that sword rose, every living being in the