Fulgrim's wails echoed in the Warp, creating a surging tide in the corresponding Warp region of Macragge.
The blue electric light, like a toxin, infiltrated Fulgrim's body through Alexander's round hand, eroding him. His scales peeled off layer by layer, his skin festered in patches, and his muscles died one by one.
A pure, hollow death, devoid of any sensory stimulation and offering only pure pain, corroded Fulgrim's body.
At the same time, the power within his body was drained, and life itself was being gnawed away.
Fulgrim writhed, twitched, and curled into a ball in the Warp, like an electric eel.
His very existence was harmed, afflicted by a corruption that did not originate from Slaanesh.
"Spare me!!!" He struggled to escape Alexander's round hand, crying out for mercy.
Having indulged in pleasure for ten thousand years, his spirit was even more decadent and weak than Alexander had imagined. He even began to wail and beg for mercy, seemingly abandoning all honor.
Alexander merely brought his round hand closer to Fulgrim.
The authority of the Erosion and Destruction domain that the Emperor had bestowed upon him, his own Malicious Art domain, and the Greed and Dissolution authority gained from devouring the Tyranids all pressed down on Fulgrim.
Alexander had never so clearly understood his own existence and felt the three domains in the Warp.
But precisely because of this, Alexander felt a slight confusion.
The domain of Malicious Art was easy enough to understand; Doraemon's gadgets were indeed mechanisms of creativity, designs superior to all others, and with those gadgets, Alexander easily approached the Malicious Art domain.
Although Erosion and Destruction came directly from the Emperor, Alexander was not quite sure why he could accept this domain so smoothly, as if the position of the Dark King was also very suitable for him.
The same went for Greed and Dissolution. This was a domain Alexander had less involvement with. Part of the reason he occupied this domain was that he had, in turn, preyed upon the Tyranids and daemons, who were top predators in both the material and reality domains, leading to him being treated as a predator by humans, daemons, and the hive Mind alike. Yet, he accepted it too smoothly.
Moreover, Alexander vaguely felt that his true essence was still hidden beneath these three domains, something deeper, something born from a more distant future—a thing related to aspects of Greed and Dissolution, Erosion and Destruction, and Malicious Art.
It was just that Alexander could not yet discern what it was, only able to simply use the power of these three domains to press down on Fulgrim.
Greed and Dissolution devoured Fulgrim's life, Malicious Art extracted Fulgrim's power, and Erosion and Destruction was the most fatal to Fulgrim.
That death, devoid of pleasure, filled only with emptiness and gloom, brought Fulgrim unbearable pain.
All the dark memories, suppressed deep in his heart by indulgence and pleasure, continuously surged from his chest.
That sword, ten thousand years later, Fulgrim remembered that sword again, remembering the pain, cruelty, and degradation within it.
He saw his sword light slash across Ferrus' neck, drawing a bloody arc, and in the blood, everything was reflected—everything he and Ferrus once shared. They were comrades, brothers, friends; they were vastly different yet respected each other; how much honor they had gained together.
All of this, everything, flickered in the arc drawn by the piercing sword, then was covered by Ferrus' blood, and vanished amidst Slaanesh's laughter.
Only Ferrus' head remained, eyes wide, staring fixedly at him.
"Fulgrim."
Ferrus whispered softly.
His voice carried anger, hatred, and a touch of lament for his brother's fall.
Ten thousand years of pain, suppressed deep in his consciousness, covered by pleasure and degradation, pain he thought he had forgotten, all surged from within him, transforming into blades of death that sliced at his body.
Fulgrim howled in agony, feeling his body gradually dissolving in Alexander's round hand.
In Slaanesh's boudoir, six hundred sixty thousand demon musicians hovered amidst purple gauze as thin as cicada wings, playing sixty-six distinct styles of music on pure gold flutes.
Six thousand six hundred sixty-six dancers moved on Persian carpets with intricate patterns. The faces on the carpets were stepped upon by the dancers' slender, jade-like feet adorned with gold chains, emitting groans mixed with pleasure and pain. The dancers performed a dance incorporating six hundred sixty-six coital positions, pleasing their master.
Six hundred sixty-six of the most excellent painters from various races in the galaxy lay prostrate before the beautiful being on the enormous velvet bed, using sixty million colors and brushstrokes to delineate her form, yet no matter how they tried, they could not accurately depict that beautiful, depraved, and licentious body.
Harpists laughed loudly, playing harps made of taut human intestines. The owners of the intestines wailed in tune with the harp's melodies.
Drummers also grew passionate, smashing the skulls of sixty-six infant races with golden drumsticks, using their piercing screams as drumbeats.
Bassists, carrying food mixed with highly stimulating neurotoxins and barrels of wine infused with stimulants, bounced and approached.
Singers sang with hoarse voices, songs capable of tearing a mortal's vocal cords, but the master of this boudoir had blessed them, allowing them to sing forever in pain.
The Lord of Hunger enjoyed the sixty-six Keepers of Secrets coupling with her in myriad strange ways, bringing extreme stimulation to her body.
Shalaxi Helbane, the Chief Greater Daemon of Slaanesh, reveled in the pleasure of this moment. It was the star of this feast, responsible for attending to Slaanesh herself.
This was its first feast since regaining Slaanesh's favor.
It had once been defeated by the Grey Knights and cast into disfavor, but now, by seizing the fifth old crone sword from the Death Guard, it had regained Slaanesh's affection.
Shalaxi Helbane savored the endless pleasure brought by the Lord of Hunger's body; its desires were almost fulfilled.
However, the Lord of Hunger's moist eyes suddenly widened. Reflected in her eyes was the agonizing Fulgrim.
The blessings belonging to her on Fulgrim were being scorched, gradually dissipating in the Warp.
Her blessings had already corrupted most of Fulgrim's body, transforming Fulgrim into an extension of her power. Eliminating her blessings was equivalent to completely killing Fulgrim.
At the last moment of its desire's fulfillment, Shalaxi Helbane watched the Lord of Hunger rise from her bed.
This was the first time since the end of the Great Crusade.
Alexander's consciousness intertwined between two bodies.
Inside the orbital freighter, he stood in a dense forest of interwoven spirit bones, looking at Dark Jester and the Harlequin Avatar, who were suppressed on the ground.
Just now, Alexander had figured it out.
Why couldn't spirit bones be a kind of machine?
Spirit bones could be weapons, and weapons were clearly machines.
Spirit bones could build houses, and house-building equipment was clearly also machines.
Spirit bones could transform into starships, and starships were clearly machines.
So, spirit bones were obviously also machines! Although spirit bones were pure Warp matter, no one stipulated that Warp matter couldn't be mechanical!
With this realization, Alexander instantly gained control of these spirit bones, in turn overwhelming the Aeldari Bonesinger and controlling Dark Jester and the Harlequin Avatar.
The Harlequin Avatar, or rather, Cegorach, the Laughing God possessing the Harlequin Avatar, showed a self-mocking smile.
"I didn't expect that I would save a Shadowseer, only to lose a Dark Jester and an Avatar."
"I actually just wanted to discuss cooperation with you," Alexander said with a smile, looking at the Avatar. "Why don't you invite me to the Black Library to talk?"
"That won't do. If I invite you, my brother Ynnead will be unhappy."
The Harlequin Avatar said with a grin:
"Besides, every time you humans come to my Black Library, you never do anything good."
Alexander was not surprised by Cegorach's refusal.
The Black Library was one of the Aeldari's last reserves, a key to their resurgence and revival. Cegorach naturally wouldn't easily open it to humans.
Just as humans would never allow xenos to casually approach the Golden Throne. Although it's hard to say whether the Emperor on the Throne would be in danger, or the xenos approaching the Throne would be.
If Cegorach had agreed directly, Alexander would have suspected what evil intentions he was harboring.
Although he was only the fourth of the galaxy's four great tricksters, he had a record of deceiving C'tan into fighting each other.
The Lockheart Scarab on Sylandri Shadowseer had indeed been removed, but Alexander never fully trusted Necron technology.
The Aeldari and Necrons were old rivals, and they would certainly have a way to deal with the Lockheart Scarab.
He used another method to track Sylandri Shadowseer. Hmm?
Alexander vaguely sensed something, suddenly raised his head, and looked at Dark Jester, who was restrained in mid-air by the spirit bones.
Dark Jester's eyes rolled back, her body twitched, and her face was full of madness and distortion.
The Harlequin Avatar also seemed to sense something, gasping in horror, trembling involuntarily, as if seeing a natural predator.
Only Guilliman looked somewhat confused, feeling nothing.
Dark Jester's body suddenly stiffened. Her limbs twisted in a bizarre posture, and the horn in her hair twisted and changed, gradually forming a crown of black and purple horns. Her dark hair also turned white and became curly.
At the same time, her body also changed. Her clown-like costume peeled off like scales. Her body twitched and became snake-like and fish-like. Viscous, profane liquid continuously secreted from her pores, covering her exposed skin and slowly solidifying into a purple veil.
This veil was insufficient to cover her body, as if born only to provoke lust.
Finally, the alluring mask carved with Slaanesh's face that Dark Jester wore, the mask merged with her flesh, gradually integrating into her face, becoming her new visage.
A face beyond words, as if a collection of millions of beauties that the material universe could not contain.
Pleasure.
A spiritual pleasure arose from all things.
Whether it was the Harlequin Avatar or Guilliman, even the unconscious spirit bones, machines, the entire freighter, and even the air within the freighter and the vacuum around it, all felt pleasure.
Pleasurable moans echoed simultaneously in reality and the Warp.
"Unicorn" gently stretched her body, like a delicate girl who had just woken up.
"Hello."
She smiled at Alexander:
"I am Slaanesh."
Alexander's flesh began to churn.