Warhammer [564-566] (Patreon)

Chapter 564: The Chaos Gods' Scheme and the Fate of the Godshard

Originally, the Chaos Gods could never manifest in the material universe, even with psychic awakenings and widening warp rifts.

They could only exert greater influence upon realspace; entering it in their true bodies was still impossible.

A Chaos God's true form defies language. They are a rule, a manifestation of the Warp's essence.

In truth, they have no bodies at all—everything is merely the Warp's projection.

But if, as Tzeentch claimed, the barrier between the Warp and reality is broken, a Chaos God's godshard will appear in the material universe in its true aspect.

Then it will be different. The boundary between illusion and reality will be shattered; truth and physics will collide.

The Chaos Gods grinned. Their dreadful laughter rolled across the entire Warp.

"So that means—" Khorne, upon the Brass Throne, bared a ferocious smile. "We can descend as true gods upon Holy Terra?"

If they could wield their full power, the Emperor of Mankind would be no concern. Nothing would be. A mere gesture would annihilate all.

The four Ruinous Powers transcend time and space and are eternal. If they could descend into realspace, the Emperor would stand no chance.

"Precisely!" Vashtorr's forge-heart erupted with blinding fire. "In the instant the Chaos godshard is torn from its host, the line between reality and delusion will blur completely.

In that moment, Holy Terra will become an extension of the Warp! There you can wield the totality of your power. Victory will be ours!"

He was not yet a Chaos God, but one foot already stood in that realm, and the others had tacitly accepted him. This would be his chance to become a true Chaos God.

"Wait, there's one thing I must confirm. If the Emperor succeeds in extracting the godshard but fails to destroy it immediately," Nurgle's voice twisted with excitement, "what do we do with the unclaimed godshard?"

This was crucial. A Chaos godshard would not create a "leveled-up" god; whoever fused with it would immediately become one of the Warp's gods. He had no intention of letting anyone else seize that chance.

"Hmph! I will distribute it, of course. I am the oldest and strongest of the true Chaos Gods—who surpasses me? I shall contribute the most to this war," Khorne declared at once.

All wanted the godshard, but Khorne intended to destroy the one belonging to Slaanesh, his antithesis. He had not joined this war to save Slaanesh.

To obliterate his greatest rival completely, he would shatter Slaanesh's godshard with his blood-soaked axe.

"Why you? We all contribute to this outcome—and I don't believe you can destroy it.

A Chaos godshard is indestructible. The Emperor may extract it, but it cannot be annihilated," Tzeentch said.

He was eager to forge this alliance—even to the point of working with that damned green fat lump, his mortal enemy—but that did not mean he would hand over the prize.

In the Plague Sea at the Warp's heart, Nurgle's cauldron boiled. Millions of rotting eyes bobbed in the thick yellow-green pus, each reflecting the extraction ritual deep within the Imperial Palace.

The Plaguefather dug fungal fingers into the lip of the cauldron; spores squeezed from beneath his nails fell and sprouted into tumorous flesh that screamed like newborns. "My Isha. Her light of life burns for those ants. I need the godshard to tend her wounds. I will make her a new Chaos God."

Isha must have felt he had not treated her well enough and so was lured away from his little garden by that human.

So this time he would seize the godshard for Isha, presenting it as a wedding gift to win her back.

Then the beautiful goddess of life would surely return to his garden, stay with him forever, drink his carefully brewed broth—the broth he perfected for her.

When Slaanesh first arose, he fought and defeated that upstart for the sake of the Life Goddess. He could fight for Isha once more.

"Impossible. Don't even think about it. I will never hand Slaanesh's godshard to you," Khorne said.

If that damned green lardbag obtained the godshard and the Life Goddess truly relented and returned to him, then Nurgle's side would have two Chaos Gods. The rest would be disadvantaged; the Eternal Game could not proceed.

"We'll shatter the godshard and each take a third. As for the remaining third—do with it as you please," Tzeentch proposed.

That was the fairest way. As for Vashtorr—he wasn't a Chaos God yet. Being allowed into their council was honor enough; he had no claim to spoils.

"I want half. At least half, to give to Isha," Nurgle said.

"Why should you have half? I don't need a whole portion, but it must be split into four.

Don't forget Vashtorr is our collaborator and about to ascend as a fifth Chaos God. He deserves a share," Khorne said.

Helping Vashtorr get a portion of Slaanesh's godshard was not conscience or charity.

It was because Slaanesh was Khorne's archenemy; he wanted the shard divided as many ways as possible.

Split it into four, and Khorne gained the greatest advantage.

Tzeentch and Nurgle glared at Khorne, who shot back without flinching. A sky-rending rain of blood swept the Warp.

The green plague did not yield; the blue mutating magicks followed; a violent storm tore through the Immaterium.

All lesser daemons shivered.

"Enough, all of you. We haven't beaten our foe yet—haven't even gotten the godshard—and you're divvying loot?

Shouldn't we discuss this after we defeat the Emperor and seize the godshard?" Vashtorr said.

How had these idiots become Chaos Gods? The enemy wasn't here yet and they were already at each other's throats. What good were they?

The three gods paused at his words. Blood-red, bilious green, and cerulean power subsided, and the Warp calmed.

"I'm helping you, Vashtorr. I regard you as an equal ally, unlike those two who treat you like a dog," Khorne said.

"Is that so? How generous," Vashtorr replied.

Like hell. Khorne merely wanted to use his name to ensure Slaanesh's godshard was smashed—destroying his greatest rival, the one he despised most.

Still, a quarter share of a godshard would be valuable.

Whether he absorbed it himself or used it to forge a mighty greater daemon, it would be a bargain.

They could not yet be sure whether a godshard could be absorbed to increase their power. If not, they would have to use it to create a subordinate god-demon.

"Let's agree to this for now. We can't even be sure the godshard can be broken, let alone split into four," Tzeentch said.

Forget internal strife now. First deal with the Emperor—and that Outsider. After eradicating him, his trove from other universes would also be fair game.

"Hmph! For now, then. We'll defeat the Emperor first. When do we act? Do we head to Holy Terra now?"

Once their true selves descended into realspace, it would be every god for himself—whoever seized it, kept it. Each harbored his own schemes.

"By my estimation, it will take a dozen or so years before the godshard is fully extracted and manifests in realspace.

The moment it appears, we can enter the material universe," Tzeentch said.

"So we must wait decades to deal with the Emperor?" Khorne asked.

"Correct. But we won't be idle. We'll bring every hidden blade to bear and plunge the Imperium into endless war.

The more chaotic realspace becomes, the stronger we will be," Tzeentch said.

The more chaos in the Imperium, the less faith the Emperor could draw—and the weaker he would be.

"I am about to find all my keys. Once I have them, I can begin my ascension," Vashtorr said.

At the final battle, he would appear anew—not a mere lesser Chaos god, but a true Ruinous Power.

Though Abaddon had been captured, his legions were effectively in Vashtorr's hands, and sleeper pieces laid throughout the galaxy could now awaken the Arks of Omen.

These supercolossal vessels, driven by daemon engines and built from shattered ships fused together, would be deployed.

"Unending plagues will sweep the Imperium."

"Terror and war will engulf the Imperium."

"Infinite change and wicked schemes will saturate mankind."

Chapter 565: Arks of Omen, the Primarchs' Council

Chaos moved against the Imperium. Between realspace and Warp, Vashtorr's Arks of Omen tore through physical law.

These gigantic warships, forged by three hundred Daemon-Forge Worlds, each bound a greater daemon in its engine core.

The Arks of Omen themselves were super-ships, cobbled from wrecks lost in the Warp and reforged.

With their daemon engines installed, Vashtorr distributed them to his Chaos champions and lords, announcing to all Chaos forces:

Help him gather certain "keys," and a Arks of Omen would be their reward.

When a bronze ram prow pierced the veil of reality, the surprise assault on the Imperium began.

These ships were larger even than a Gloriana-class battleship—true cosmic siege engines.

The Imperium could only compare them to the Phalanx, and to Lord Rhodes' Pedan super-carriers—of which only a few existed, all with the Indomitus Crusade.

Chaos raised wars across the Imperium, worst in the Imperium Nihilus.

There, only Aeldari Webway routes and the Nachmund Gauntlet connected through, so Chaos ran rampant. Many Imperial worlds were forced to defect.

Guilliman, on Holy Terra, processed mountains of paperwork daily. Thankfully, Malcador shared the burden; otherwise even a primarch's body would falter.

Sanguinius, Lion El'Jonson, Rogal Dorn, and Vulkan had received orders to deploy to the Imperium Nihilus to aid worlds under attack.

In the Sanctus Imperialis, Rhodes' two sons had come of age and each led their own legion against Chaos.

Accompanying them was the human War God Khaine—this primarch now commanded his own legion as well.

Cloned Lorgar, Magnus, and Guilliman themselves held the Triarch posts.

"Now we must hold the Imperium Nihilus no matter what," Guilliman said, using a special link through cosmic beasts to speak with the primarchs already en route.

The war had exploded without warning. Chaos had emptied its nests to assail the Imperium; many worlds fell at the first blow. The primarchs had to race from fire to fire.

Worse, at this critical hour, Father and Rhodes were extracting a Chaos godshard—no interruptions allowed. The primarchs would bear the burden.

"Guilliman! What exactly are Father and Rhodes doing? Can't you tell us?" the Lion asked.

Aside from Guilliman, who was executing the plan, the other primarchs knew nothing specific. They thought the Emperor had destroyed Fulgrim and recovered Corax; beyond that, only that something huge was underway on Terra.

"And how is Corax?" Sanguinius asked.

"My brothers, I can tell you what Father is doing—at his instruction: he is extracting a Chaos godshard.

He has no time to tend to Corax; several cosmic beasts are purging his Chaos taint.

Rhodes' men have crafted him a new body; in time, he will recover," Guilliman said.

Persuaded by Rhodes, the Emperor had decided to hide less from his sons this time. He ordered Guilliman to explain upon inquiry and lay bare the gravity of the situation.

He had paid dearly before for secrecy and half-truths—his sons fractured from him.

He would not repeat that mistake.

"So that's it. If Father and Rhodes succeed, we can permanently erase a Chaos God?" Horus said.

He had never imagined such a grand design.

The other primarchs were shocked too—to think the detested Chaos Gods could be undone in this way.

"For now we're only extracting the shard. Once removed, Rhodes will purify it. Whether we succeed depends on what follows. Chaos has likely learned of Father's plan—hence their frenzy," Guilliman said.

"No wonder those Chaos wretches have been so brazen. Tell Father not to worry.

We will quell every rebellion and drive them back to where they belong," the Lion said.

The primarchs nodded. This was a moment of life and death for the Imperium—no slackening.

"My brothers, it's worse than you think.

I entered the Golden Throne recently. Father told me that when the shard is fully taken from Fulgrim, an unprecedented disaster will erupt.

The entire Sol System will, because of the shard's manifestation, become a place where the Warp entwines with reality. In other words, there the Chaos Gods can wield their true power," Guilliman said.

What the Ruinous Powers perceived, the Emperor and Rhodes had also foreseen.

At the instant of extraction, Terra—and likely the whole Sol System—would see the barrier between reality and illusion sundered.

It would become coexistent with the Warp. They would not even need the Webway link via the Golden Throne; endless daemons could pour into Terra unhindered.

So the Emperor had ordered evacuations from Terra, Mars, Luna, and other Sol worlds—civilians and key assets alike—anticipating Terra might become a battlefield.

"What? Guilliman, you're joking. If the Chaos Gods can descend in person—you know their power. Unless Father rises from the Throne

and awakens the Dark King within—otherwise, any one Chaos God could defeat him—and easily," Horus said.

He even wanted to rush back immediately. Wielding the Giant of Light, he could, to a degree, contest the Warp and be his father's strongest aid.

"Don't underestimate our father. He has received ten millennia of mankind's prayers.

Even without the Dark King, he can go toe-to-toe with one Chaos God and not be badly outmatched," Magnus said.

He had been by the Emperor's side and knew how strong he had become—stronger than decades prior, bolstered by gifts from Rhodes and a flood of dark power.

When Warp and reality overlapped, the Emperor could also unleash vast might.

"The problem is, it could become three-on-one—or even four-on-one," Rogal Dorn said.

He had received grim reports. While crushing Chaos in the Imperium Nihilus, they had destroyed a Arks of Omen and pried news from a captured champion:

The lesser god Vashtorr sought a set of strange keys. If he gathered them, he could ascend as a fifth Chaos God.

They might eliminate Slaanesh, but a new Chaos God would emerge.

If he joined the battle on Terra, Father would face four foes. He might then be forced to awaken the Dark King—and mankind would be doomed.

Silence fell.

"We must stop it. Wherever a Arks of Omen appears, we go first and destroy it. Vashtorr must not succeed," the Lion said.

Under emergency orders, he had recalled all Deathwatch expeditionaries and hunted down the Fallen in the Warp. The Dark Angels were back to legion strength—hundreds of thousands.

Whatever schemes awaited, he would meet them.

"I've discussed this with Rhodes. He has arrangements and says if his plan works, Terra will not become a battlefield and the four will not emerge from the Warp," Guilliman said.

What he'd described earlier was the worst case. Rhodes had countermeasures, though he hadn't shared details.

"If it's Rhodes, I believe him," Horus said.

Without Rhodes, the primarchs would not even be reunited.

Chapter 566: Rhodes' Trump Card—An Extra-Dimensional World

"Believe him. Since the day I met him, Rhodes has made miracles—breaking the Tyranids, the Orks of Octarius, foiling the Ruinous Powers, and ending the Plague War," Sanguinius said.

"He brought us back, one by one, and half-freed Father from the Throne. Without him—no revival. The Imperium would have rotted and died," Rogal Dorn said.

Without Rhodes' new technologies and superluminal drives—without the primarchs restored and the Emperor unbound—the Imperium would have decayed beyond saving.

"What we need to do now is simple: purge every daemon and Chaos force in the Imperium Nihilus," Vulkan said.

"Right. That is our task. For the rest—trust Rhodes.

Corax is being handled; in time he'll fully recover. Then we'll stand shoulder to shoulder again," Guilliman said.

The council left them heavy-hearted. Their job was plain: scour Chaos from the Imperium and the galaxy. The rest was beyond them.

…

In the Imperial Palace, the extraction continued, year after year. The godshard was being teased out, bit by bit.

Fulgrim no longer screamed. Alive, soul intact—but his consciousness had shattered under the pain, worse than the Golden Throne's torments.

He lived, his soul whole, but his mind was gone—an empty shell, senseless.

Perhaps the best end he could have hoped for.

"Rhodes! Half the godshard is out. You know what will happen when we finish.

We never considered this before. You told me you had a way—but now I want certainty.

Otherwise I will halt the extraction," the Emperor said.

If he had known at the start that this would break the barrier between reality and the Warp—linking the High Immaterium to Holy Terra—he would never have begun.

But now they were committed. Rhodes had assured him he had a solution, but the Emperor was uneasy.

Fulgrim's mind was gone; half the shard remained within him, half out. Perhaps this limbo would at least keep Terra safe.

Though powerful, the Emperor could only match one Chaos God—likely with an eighty percent chance of defeat.

If three or four came at once, he could not withstand them unless he rose and became the Dark King—which would mean humanity's end. Unacceptable.

He could not bear that outcome.

Terra was the Imperium's heart and soul. It must not fall. If destroyed, even if mankind survived, morale would shatter—their motherworld gone.

"Don't worry. I told you—I have a way. Trust me: reality and the Warp will not overlap," Rhodes said.

"Give me certainty, Rhodes. Show me how you will prevent linkage when the shard manifests," the Emperor said.

"Very well. Do you know of extra-dimensional space? A world born in the interstice between the Warp and reality," Rhodes said.

He had a trump card. With Yapool, he had opened a new extra-dimensional space.

It was growing, now large enough to cover a star system.

In a few years, it would be larger still—enough to encompass the entire Sol System.

When the time came, he would unfurl it and place the godshard within. Then the barrier would hold.

The High Immaterium would not link to Terra. The Ruinous Powers would find their efforts fruitless.

"You mean the Aeldari Webway?" the Emperor asked.

A realm between Warp and reality—surely the Webway.

He knew the Webway well, having once linked Terra to it through the Golden Throne.

But bringing a godshard into the Webway seemed untenable—the Webway was carved from the Warp, half in and half out. A godshard would unbalance it instantly.

"Not the Webway. Extra-dimensional space. I'll show you," Rhodes said, waving a hand. Purple-red light engulfed him.

From the Emperor's view, Rhodes vanished. Space around the Golden Throne split open.

Rhodes stepped into a purple-red plane—neither Warp nor Webway.

The Emperor was stunned. Beyond Warp, Webway, and realspace—another realm existed.

"This is a world I've secretly developed. I intend to make it a counterpart to the Webway.

But safer. A human Webway, carved by my power, still growing.

It will take time to cover the whole galaxy," Rhodes said, proud, describing the realm he had forged with Yapool.

"Incredible, Rhodes. You command such craft—you've opened a Webway-like world?

It is safer than the Webway—I can feel it. It has nothing to do with the Warp," the Emperor said.

The strange realm bore no psychic resonance. It was not cut from the Warp; it stood wholly apart from it—and even apart from reality.

This was the human corridor he'd dreamed of—beyond the Ruinous Powers' gaze.

If Rhodes succeeded, it would outshine the Golden Throne Webway project. Mankind could abandon Warp travel—sailing a new, extra-dimensional sea.

"Now are you at ease? I'll place the godshard inside, let it evolve, and have the cosmic beasts suppress it. Success is guaranteed," Rhodes said.

"Then I am at ease. Let us proceed at full speed," the Emperor said.

With this extra-dimensional world, what was there to fear? It was a killer of the Warp—better even than the Cosmic beasts by a hundredfold.

"Don't tell the others—not even the primarchs. Let them feel some pressure," Rhodes said.

His legions and monster armies were fighting; the system coins were flowing. Soon he would amass tens of billions to max the system. Then true titans of the Ultraverse—the Dark Zagi, Dark Tiga, Yapool, Hyper Zetton, Greeza—would come.

He would gain enough to perform a third monster-boost, merging the Angel of Annihilation Zog's light, the Alien Empera's power, and Tartarus' might—ascending to the apex of this reality.

"I understand. Only those here at the Throne will know," the Emperor said.

With Rhodes' trump card revealed, his confidence returned.

Work resumed upon the Golden Throne.

…

On the Cosmic beasts world, Aisha had fully shed Chaos and become a goddess of order.

Though reduced to about her former strength, she was wholly beyond the Warp's taint.

At last, she was free of Chaos' sea.