"Hmm?"
The Chaos Lord's eyes turned deathly cold. He was just about to exact a heavy toll upon this mortal who failed to understand her place—perhaps testing the six new thods of extre torture he had conceptualized during his tedious wait.
However, he swiftly realized what was actually transpiring.
The mortal concubine stumbled to his side, finally unable to support her own weight, collapsing onto the deck with a heavy thud.
Every single nerve, every fiber of muscle, and even the skin covering her organs seed to spring to hideous life. They writhed and squird like a mass of maggots until, with a sickening pop, her body instantly unfolded outward, flattening into a macabre carpet of living flesh upon the floor.
Yet, despite suffering an injury that should have instantly killed any mortal, her head remained perfectly intact under the influence of so dark warp sorcery. She even retained her senses, her face locked in an expression of agonizing despair.
A dense network of blood-red threads extended upward into the air, weaving together to form a hollow silhouette. Though the features were indistinct, it was roughly identifiable as the form of a woman.
The figure opened what could loosely be considered its mouth, vibrating the ambient air with psychic energy, and a mocking, giggling voice echoed:
"Oh, Malvin, are you intending to break our covenant?"
The Chaos Lord imdiately recognized the entity and replied coldly, "Miriael Sabathiel. I do not know what you are speaking of. When have I ever broken the covenant between us?"
In order to communicate with the Fallen Sister residing deep within the Six Circles of Slaanesh and further his own grand ascension, the veteran Dark Apostle had successfully devised a specialized warp ritual. Mortals inscribed with specific ritual runes could serve as temporary anchors for the Fallen Sister's consciousness, allowing her to briefly manifest and discuss their ensuing machinations.
"Oh? Is that so?"
The Slaaneshi Sister's voice dripped with playful mockery. "You say that, but you have certainly been busy scheming in the shadows, haven't you? While I do admire your ambition, that does not give you an excuse to play petty tricks within our covenant."
The Chaos Lord narrowed his eyes, a faint prickling of unease rising within his mind. He spoke in a low, dangerous tone, "What tricks? When have I ever deceived you?"
"Still playing the stubborn fool?"
The originally sickeningly sweet and mocking tone instantly plunged several degrees in temperature. "You have been secretly skimming souls, have you not? Those souls that were ant to be sacrificed to —Salinas, McKnight, Sims... where are their souls now? Do not tell you do not know!"
"Furthermore, that Neverborn I entrusted to you... why can I no longer perceive its existence? What exactly have you done?!"
As she spoke, evidently struck by a certain hypothesis, Miriael's voice darkened considerably.
"Have you gone behind my back to forge a covenant with another Ruinous Power? Let guess..."
She paused slightly, and though phrased as a question, her tone carried absolute certainty:
"...It is the Architect of Fate, Tzeentch. Am I correct?"
What in the warp are you talking about?!
The Chaos Lord's eye twitched violently.
Even if I were to suddenly start worshipping the False Emperor, I would never pledge myself to Tzeentch!
As the god of endless, capricious change, Tzeentch was notorious for transforming fanatically loyal, hard-working Chaos Space Marines on the verge of ascension into mindless Chaos Spawn—solely because He thought it would be amusing!
Despite finding the accusation utterly absurd, the Chaos Lord's transhuman intellect quickly parsed the crucial keywords from Miriael's rant.
Wait. The nas she just listed...
Were they not all commanders of the Astartes detachnts he had just dispatched to board the cruiser?
Salinas was the overall operational commander, a Chaos Captain. In the Chaos Lord's eyes, the man was an arrogant, incompetent fool, but his baseline tactical acun was passable.
McKnight was a Chaos Sorcerer who constantly claid he was rely "utilizing" Slaanesh rather than fanatically worshipping Him, acting as if he were the only sane man among lunatics. The Chaos Lord viewed him as a colossal idiot, though his mastery of sorcery was undeniably potent.
Sims was a blade-obsessed madman. As a Possessed Marine, he spent his entire existence chasing euphoric slaughter and extre stimuli, a habit the Chaos Lord often found deeply irritating.
But there was no denying they were all exceptionally lethal Astartes. The Chaos Lord had felt entirely confident dispatching them for this boarding action.
So how could they possibly have failed?
And could they truly all be dead, their souls erased completely rather than returning to the immaterium?
"I will repeat this once more: I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."
The Chaos Lord violently suppressed the fury boiling within him, keeping his voice as steady as possible. "The individuals you nad just boarded a Lunar-class cruiser under my command, after which we entirely lost vox-contact. Like you, I am ignorant of what transpired."
Miriael "stared" fixedly at the Chaos Lord, seemingly attempting to discern the truth in his words. She murmured, repeating: "A Lunar-class cruiser?"
"A Lunar-class cruiser."
The Chaos Lord reiterated.
"...How is that possible? Is there so anomaly aboard that vessel?"
Miriael's voice was saturated with profound distrust.
"I will investigate this matter thoroughly and provide you with an explanation."
The Chaos Lord grit his teeth. "And I will undoubtedly provide adequate compensation for this loss."
Before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by a frantic commotion.
The Chaos Space Marine who had sprinted out of the bridge earlier had returned, a trace of genuine terror etched across his face.
"What is it?"
The Chaos Lord frowned, glaring at the subordinate.
"Lord, we... we may have a problem! I just received a report: there is an anomaly in the teleportarium. It appears enemy forces have utilized it to teleport directly aboard our vessel!"
"Repeat that?"
The Chaos Lord was montarily stunned. How is that possible?
It was completely absurd!
Violently suppressing the urge to cleave the subordinate's skull open and devour his brain to divine the truth directly, he asked in a low voice:
"Enemy numbers?"
"Unknown."
"Specific tactical data on the enemy?"
"Unknown."
"...How do you know absolutely nothing?! What use are you to ?!"
The Chaos Lord grit his teeth and roared, "Where are the teleportarium guards?! Are they completely useless?! Find out what is happening imdiately!"
Before his roar faded, he saw the Chaos Space Marine shake his head with agonizing difficulty. "The guard detail there... they were wiped out almost instantaneously."
"Their bio-signatures... almost all of them flatlined simultaneously. We know absolutely nothing about the intruders."
"Hah!"
The Chaos Lord let out a laugh born of sheer, exasperated fury.
Still refusing to believe it, he cast another glance out the armaglass viewport at the ship in the void.
Yes, it is just an incredibly ordinary Lunar-class cruiser. The kind any standard Imperial world could churn out.
From the way you are describing this, I would have thought I just ordered a boarding action against the Vengeful Spirit!
Even Warmaster Abaddon himself is not this ridiculously exaggerated!
"It appears you have encountered a dilemma?"
Perhaps realizing the Chaos Lord's reaction was too genuine to be feigned, Miriael's anger subsided, replaced by a tone of highly amused intrigue. "Do you require to manifest and offer assistance?"
The Chaos Lord's initial instinct was to refuse outright, but a faint, instinctual dread surfacing in his mind caused him to swiftly and his response.
"If... if I deem it necessary."
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