"Family..." Old He murmured, a glimmer flashing in his clouded eyes. He knew what "family" meant within the cult. But he felt that the "family" Brother Peng spoke of was somewhat different from the "great family" the priest preached about. It held less fanaticism and illusion, and more genuine warmth.
Gradually, a small circle centered on Liu Zhipeng formed at the very bottom of the mining district. Without realizing it, they followed him, listened to his advice, and came to regard him as their pillar of strength.
Naturally, none of this escaped the cult's leadership.
"He's become too popular. He's even eclipsing the rules."
In a secret chapel fashioned from enormous fungi deep within the mining district, Vaughn, the current high priest and a third-generation hybrid, studied a Dataslate with eyes that glimmered with an eerie purple light. Displayed on it was Liu Zhipeng's profile.
Vaughn's face still retained most of its human features, but his head was smooth and hairless, his skull rising into inhuman bulges. He wore a purple robe embroidered with the cult's symbols, and his voice was low and hoarse.
"His faith is devout. The feedback I receive from the broodmind tells me he's wholly devoted to the Patriarch," countered the bishop sitting opposite him, a fourth-generation hybrid named Kaz. Kaz was powerfully built, with one arm converted into a vicious mining claw. He was the cult's military leader.
"Devout? No, you don't understand, Kaz." Vaughn shook his head. "His devotion lacks 'reverence.' He's made those miners at the bottom feel 'equality' and 'care,' which is all well and good. But he's also made them forget 'waiting' and 'obedience.' He's turning the cult into a... mutual aid society."
Vaughn's concerns were not unfounded. At its core, the Genestealer Cult existed to build an organization of absolute obedience and absolute loyalty, ready to welcome the arrival of the Tyranids. Any cult of personality that might cause the organization to slip out of control was extraordinarily dangerous.
"What we need is a flock of silent lambs, ready to sacrifice themselves at any moment, not believers who think and ask questions," Vaughn concluded. "Find an opportunity to put him in his place. Make him understand who truly speaks for the Patriarch's will."
The opportunity soon arrived.
Vaughn attended one of the routine gatherings where the cult's teachings were preached to the miners.
Standing on a raised platform built from piled ore, he used his compelling voice to paint a glorious picture of the Day of Ascension. The miners, Liu Zhipeng among them, knelt devoutly on the ground and listened to his teachings.
"...On that day, the heavens will split open, and our god, our savior, the Four-Armed Emperor, will descend from the sky upon stars of flesh and blood! His claws will tear apart the tyrants who oppress us, and his great maw will devour all injustice! We will become one with him and attain eternal rebirth!"
The miners listened in rapture, their faces alight with fanaticism.
When the sermon ended, Vaughn suddenly turned his gaze toward Liu Zhipeng in the crowd.
"Brother Peng, come forward."
Liu Zhipeng froze for a moment, then obediently climbed onto the platform.
"I hear you enjoy considerable standing among our brothers and sisters." Vaughn's voice betrayed neither pleasure nor anger. "They say you are like a beacon in the darkness, warming their hearts. Then please tell everyone: how do you understand the Patriarch's 'love'?"
It was a trap.
Every eye settled on Liu Zhipeng. He knew that a good answer would be taken for granted, while a poor one would cast doubt on his faith, enough to destroy all the standing he had built up.
He remained silent for a moment, sensing the cold, vast will flowing through the broodmind.
Then he spoke.
"Father, brothers and sisters." His voice was quiet but exceptionally clear, filled with the warmth granted by Grandfather's Watch and Love. "To my mind, the Patriarch's love is like the earth beneath our feet."
He paused, seeing the bewilderment on everyone's faces.
"It is silent and steadfast, bearing the weight of us all. We are born here, toil here, and die here. We take ore from it, yet never think of giving anything back. But it never complains. It simply waits in silence."
"What is it waiting for? It is waiting for a seed."
"A seed that can take root in the deepest darkness, draw nourishment from all our suffering and despair, and finally break through the soil to grow into a towering tree! That tree is our shared hope. It is 'Ascension'!"
"And so the Patriarch's love is not a gift bestowed from on high, but endurance shared with us. He is here among us, in the sweat of every brother and sister, in the strength behind every swing of a pickaxe, in our yearning for light each night. We are not passively awaiting salvation, Father. Every one of us, every act of endurance, every helping hand, waters and nourishes that seed of hope!"
Not a single word he spoke contradicted the doctrine. Yet he had deftly recast its passive "waiting" as an active "nurturing." He had brought the lofty "god" down to stand "alongside" mortals. He had allowed every lowly miner to feel their own "worth" in his words.
We aren't lambs. We're gardeners!
"Well said!" Someone in the crowd was the first to shout.
Then thunderous cheers rang through the entire underground cavern. The miners waved their arms fiercely, shouting Brother Peng's name with hoarse voices. Their eyes shone brighter, more fervently, than when they had listened to Vaughn's sermon.
Vaughn stood on the platform, his face livid.
He had intended to use this opportunity to assert his authority and portray Liu Zhipeng as a shortsighted man who understood nothing beyond petty favors.
Instead, the other man had delivered a more successful, more incendiary sermon than his own in front of everyone. Far from being put in his place, he had used the opening Vaughn provided to vault into the position of the cult's newest spiritual idol.
Vaughn looked at the fervent faces below the platform, then at Liu Zhipeng beside him, wearing a humble expression as though he had merely offered a few casual thoughts.
For the first time, he felt a chill from this young fourth-generation hybrid that made his heart tremble.
This failed attempt to "put him in his place" brought Vaughn's wariness of Liu Zhipeng to its peak. But he dared not make another rash move, for Liu Zhipeng's standing among the lowest-ranking believers was already showing signs of surpassing his own.
Meanwhile, Liu Zhipeng began the next stage of his plan.
He knew that personal charisma and eloquence alone could never give him true control over this organization. He needed an entirely new "theoretical framework" capable of completely replacing its existing doctrine.
And as a veteran Warhammer fan who lived for the fun of it, what could be better suited to "preaching" than those four great Chaos Gods?
Before you continue