Tzeentch was at the end of his patience. 'Those two complete fools! If they just checked the energy fluctuations there, wouldn't everything become clear?' the Lord of Change roared inwardly.
Nurgle and Slaanesh fell into a brief silence.
The green and purple energies communicated soundlessly, seeming to gauge whether the Lord of Change was deceiving them. It was a universal truth that one could not believe a single word Tzeentch said.
"How do I know this isn't another one of your schemes?" Nurgle's deep voice rumbled, thick with suspicion and profound mistrust. "We are mortal enemies, Tzeentch. Your 'change' is a negation of the 'Inevitable decay' I seek."
"You green simpleton! I have pointed the answer out to you as plain as day. Just do as I say!" Tzeentch's voice was filled with undisguised scorn and exasperation. He sometimes truly wondered why he was counted among these three.
One was a madman who knew only blood and war. Another was a masochist wallowing in morbid ecstasy. The last was a bloated husk that rolled in filth and plague.
By what right were they his equals, he who was the great god of magic, wisdom, and infinite change? Where had things gone so wrong?
"I will be watching you, Tzeentch," Nurgle's voice carried a stubborn threat, "Your shadow falls upon every plot, every plan in this universe. I refuse to believe you are uninvolved in this matter!" He would never trust this weaver of tricks, no matter what. If Tzeentch appeared to have no connection, it was surely part of a much deeper gambit. This was common sense; it had to be so.
"Farewell, Tzeentch!" The green and purple energies seemed to reach a consensus, then promptly withdrew from the blue domain.
Watching his two colleagues depart, Tzeentch finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He had not obtained what he expected from this war with the Imperium of Man and its Emperor.
Slaanesh had gained Fulgrim, Nurgle had reaped Mortarion, and Khorne had seized Angron at the very start of the war, making him his mighty champion. Only Tzeentch, the one who had his eye on two Primarchs, had failed to secure either of them.
His original target was Magnus, who possessed the strongest psychic powers and was equally proficient in the arts of sorcery. He was the most suitable Primarch to become his Daemon Prince.
Tzeentch had exhausted every trick and scheme, meticulously crafting a script, waiting for Magnus to follow the path to damnation and fall into his embrace. However, just as his plot was about to succeed, the anomaly known as Axis escaped from the Warp and landed squarely on Magnus's planet.
He had utterly shattered Tzeentch's plans, his perfect design. When Magnus returned safely to Holy Terra and set foot upon the Golden Throne, Tzeentch understood that he had lost this Primarch forever. It was impossible to snatch him from under the Emperor's nose.
Though it was a pity, Tzeentch had no choice but to accept it. He then turned his gaze to another of the traitor Primarchs: Lorgar.
This one was somewhat weaker in power but was a master of religion. If he could be won over, he would be an excellent choice for developing a legion of Chaos Sorcerers. But who could have imagined that this chosen target would once again have his fate disrupted by Axis?
Lorgar was defeated and imprisoned by him, his destiny completely rewritten. The successive setbacks left Tzeentch seething with frustration. In the end, he had no choice but to select the eleventh of the traitor Primarchs and elevate him to be his Daemon Prince.
Though not the ideal candidate, the other three gods each had a Primarch Daemon Prince. If he had none, would he not lose all face? Thus, he had begrudgingly accepted one, so he could at least claim to have a Daemon Prince of primarch caliber.
However, this affair was not entirely without its benefits. As the personification of cosmic change, the great upheavals in the universe were most advantageous to Tzeentch.
The chain reaction caused by Axis, this anomaly from another universe, had already opened a completely new parallel timeline. The dark and desperate age for the Imperium of Man, for the entire galaxy ten thousand years in the future, was now almost certainly averted.
This was a wonderful turn of events.
Change meant his power would grow ever stronger. Axis probably did not know that he, the Lord of Change, was the one who truly yearned for a universe in turmoil and renewal, not one of stagnant water.
'How intriguing, Dark King,' Tzeentch's cerulean consciousness rippled. 'What will you choose?'
The Dark King intended to drag humanity into an inescapable dark future, while Axis strove to pull it back onto the right path. Now, even though the Emperor had ascended the Golden Throne as wished, humanity's leadership and hope were not extinguished. The Webway network the Emperor had carved out still existed, and the enthroned Emperor could even communicate with the Primarchs in a way.
More critically, humanity had mastered faster-than-light travel, although it still had room for improvement. But once it became widespread, human society could construct countless self-sufficient and interconnected star sectors on a scale of tens or even hundreds of light-years.
Complemented by the Webway, long-distance Warp travel would no longer be a necessity. The future of mankind was, in a word, bright.
If the Dark King did nothing, then even with the Emperor confined to the throne, the Imperium of Man in ten thousand years would not be the breeding ground of despair it had once been destined to be.
It would not even take ten millennia; perhaps in just one thousand years, humanity could return to its peak, even surpassing the Golden Age to reach unprecedented heights. By then, humanity would no longer provide the nourishment of darkness that sustained the Dark King's existence.
However, the Dark King was not one to sit idly by.
It had previously forced the Emperor onto the throne, a fate the Emperor could not escape even after knowing the future timeline. He could only follow the course of history. The Dark King would certainly not stand by and watch now.
But to Tzeentch, none of that mattered. No matter what happened, the universe's great transformation would grant him more power.
He might even, when necessary, give Axis a helping hand, assisting him in stirring up even greater waves… and new changes.
...
Elsewhere, though Slaanesh and Nurgle were not allies, Slaanesh still accompanied Nurgle to his Plague Garden to inspect the damage, as they were not currently in a state of hostility.
"Well? Have you found anything? Was that shameless liar toying with me?" Nurgle's tone was thick with anxiety. The whereabouts of the goddess Isha was the only thing on his mind.
"Don't be so hasty. I am looking, am I not? Things are... a bit unusual," Slaanesh's voice carried a hint of amusement. "I smell the scent of a few rats. First, a jester. You should know, the Aeldari gods fell because of me, consumed by me. Few survived: Isha, the goddess of life, imprisoned by you; Khaine, the god of war, long shattered and scattered across the materium; and the last, the one hiding in the Webway and still able to move freely, Cegorach, the Laughing God."
As the youngest of the Aeldari gods in a sense, despite having consumed the rest of the pantheon, Slaanesh was exceptionally sensitive to the scent of their kind.
"Damn it! Are you saying it was that jester god of the Aeldari? He snuck into my garden while we were contending with the Emperor and kidnapped my Isha?" Nurgle's fury was about to boil over.
His poor little Isha! She would no longer be able to enjoy the rich stews he lovingly brewed for her! He could no longer protect her!
"That's right, it was that Aeldari jester who took your treasure," Slaanesh's mind had already drifted far away, "and has hidden it."
He now had a greater desire to capture both Isha and Cegorach, to devour them together. Only by consuming all Aeldari divinity could he achieve perfection.
"Besides that jester god, did you find anything else?" Nurgle pressed, his fatherly reason not yet completely consumed by rage.
If it was Cegorach, it was plausible that he could sneak into his garden, but to destroy a quarter of his realm? That timid jester god certainly did not possess such power. This was why he had initially suspected Tzeentch.
"I finally understand why the Lord of Change wanted me to come here," Slaanesh's voice held a note of realization. "I have fought Axis before. His power... is very special. That energy, known as Ki… I would never mistake it. There are significant traces of Ki remaining here. Since you have never encountered him, you would naturally have difficulty distinguishing it, but I can."
Since Axis's arrival in their universe, everything had been turned upside down.
The "history" the Four Chaos Gods knew, the "future" they had observed from the Warp, had been utterly subverted. Theoretically, the Ruinous Powers were transcendent of the timeline.
Their existence spanned the past, present, and future. For instance, the Slaanesh of ten thousand years hence could interfere with events ten millennia prior, even before its own birth, for the moment it was born, its existence was imprinted across all of time.
"The world has changed too much," Nurgle's voice was full of anger and a deep apprehension towards Axis. "More than one can imagine. A mere mortal, daring to scheme against the Chaos Gods? He is even more arrogant and ignorant than the Emperor ever was!"
The variables and turmoil Axis brought were completely at odds with the eternal end and decay Nurgle pursued.
The Plaguefather was arguably the one among the Four who hated Axis the most and most desired his demise. He was the one who wanted Axis dead above all others.
"Isn't he just?" Slaanesh chuckled lightly with a touch of appreciation. "He certainly has added a certain... 'flavor' to this universe."
The Chaos Gods were, in essence, eternally indestructible beings who perceived the past and future, existing at all points in time. However, knowing what would happen "tomorrow," knowing what one would think and do "ten thousand years from now," was itself the epitome of boredom.
Thus, the Four Gods each sought their own amusement. Slaanesh pursued ultimate pleasure and twisted art. Khorne slaked his thirst with the clamor of blood and war. Tzeentch wove infinite schemes and changes. Only Nurgle was obsessed with eternal decay and stasis.
Now that the universe had undergone a sudden, drastic change, it was as if a giant boulder had been thrown into still waters for the other three gods, stirring a long-forgotten excitement.
This stagnant, unchanging prison had finally become interesting. But for Nurgle, this change was dreadful. Utterly dreadful.
What infuriated Nurgle even more was that he had not provoked Axis, yet the upstart had dared to make the first move against him. Axis, in league with the Aeldari god, had stolen his goddess Isha. It was a vicious slap across his fatherly face, a complete and utter humiliation.
"No! This is not 'interesting' at all!" Nurgle's roar shook the entire garden. "I will find my princess! I will reclaim my beloved goddess of life!"
"Then I wish you success, my green gentleman," Slaanesh's voice was coolly distant. "In my Palace of Pleasure, countless new little toys are eagerly awaiting my return. I shall take my leave now."
He had no intention of getting involved in this mess. Let the green fatty fret over it alone.
"Wait! Slaanesh," Nurgle tried to hold him back. "We are not mortal enemies! In the future, I could even help you against Khorne! But this time, you must help me! I want that detestable boy who stole my most precious treasure to pay the ultimate price! When we succeed, the Aeldari jester god is yours."
"Hehehe," Slaanesh let out a string of cold laughter. "You know what I want, Nurgle. I want all the Aeldari gods, both Cegorach and Isha. You only want Isha. Our interests are in fundamental conflict, so… let us each rely on our own abilities! The goddess Isha is my target as well."
Who would want to ally with him? If not for the green oaf's sudden interference back then, attacking and wounding him, how would Isha have fallen into Nurgle's hands? How would Cegorach have escaped? And now he wanted help getting Isha back? Why would Slaanesh not just take her himself? Why would he sully his hands by working with Nurgle?
No matter what conditions Nurgle offered, an alliance was impossible. The core conflict was Isha herself. Slaanesh wanted to consume her; Nurgle wanted to possess her. In the end, the two Chaos Gods parted on bad terms.
Though Nurgle now knew who had plotted against him, he was powerless against Axis. The Chaos Gods could not manifest in their true forms in the materium.
The most powerful Daemon Princes or Greater Daemons he could dispatch would be nothing but sacrifices before Axis, and numerical superiority could not bridge the chasm-like gap in their power.
The Plaguefather fell into an unprecedented rage. His entire Plague Garden trembled with his fury. The plague daemons cowered in corners slick with pus, shivering. They had never imagined their benevolent father could display a fury so similar to the one who sat upon the Brass Throne.
"Axis! You damned thief! You profane heretic! How dare you steal my treasure! My Isha!" Nurgle's impotent roars echoed through the Warp, yet they could not reach his foe in reality.
At the very peak of this despairing fury, a powerful, cold, dark will, filled with ultimate despair, descended without warning at Nurgle's side.
"Perhaps… we could work together."
"You?" Nurgle's enormous green body went rigid, the pus upon him seeming to freeze for a moment. For the first time, a Chaos God displayed an emotion akin to terror. "Impossible! You should not… you should not have formed an independent will! You have not yet been born!"
Why had the Dark King appeared now?
...
..
.
ps?