"How's the situation?"
Eden strode quickly into the war council chamber. Tuck and the others were already waiting for him.
Above them, the territorial star map hovered in mid-air. Red dots would light up from ti to ti—each one representing a region where a plague had either been discovered or had co under direct attack by plague-borne entities.
The plague had already spread across many areas.
The map was in constant flux—new red zones appeared even as others were extinguished.
That was because the Savior's Domain had already activated its defense protocols. Almost every relevant departnt had mobilized and begun systematically eradicating the plague.
"Savior, all star systems are on high alert. The military and dical corps are already in position…" Tarko reported in an orderly manner.
Thanks to prior preparation and full-scale warti readiness, each world had built large hospitals, countless temporary treatnt centers, and inspection points.
In addition, dedicated decontamination departnts had been established, tasked with purifying plague zones.
All of this was coordinated by the newly-ford Plague Eradication Departnt—an interdepartntal task force doing everything possible to contain the disaster.
Currently, the Savior's Domain had been divided into nurous epidemic control zones.
From sectors to star systems, and down to individual planetary regions—all were subdivided into habitation grid points, even to the level of individual buildings, with dedicated administrators managing them.
Thousands of these grid points had been unified into a detailed intelligence and plague data network.
At the slightest sign of plague, the area would be imdiately locked down, movent restricted, and a full investigation launched to identify and isolate the infected and the sources of infection.
They would then be transported to treatnt centers.
Simultaneously, squads of Adeptus Astartes and decontamination forces would arrive to eliminate intruders and disinfect the area.
Other departnts worked in tandem to maintain order and ensure the supply of essential resources.
This was why many regions were able to eliminate plague outbreaks with remarkable speed—often eradicating the infection at the source before it had a chance to spread.
"So now we've beco one of the Plague Lord's targets too…" Eden sighed as he watched zones flicker red before going dark on the map.
At present, only the area surrounding the Urth Sanctum World remained untouched—completely normal and fully operational.
As the core of the domain, it was the only place with comprehensive coverage of the Holy Spires. The sacred light of the Spires reached nearly every corner.
Though maintaining such infrastructure consud a terrifying amount of resources, its effectiveness was undeniable.
Urth Sanctum had beco a fortress against Chaos—no plague, no evil could hide within it, and no Chaos entity dared to trespass.
This granted the Savior's Domain a stable rear, allowing them to respond to invasions in an orderly fashion.
The only downside: the region remained in perpetual daylight, requiring artificial nightfall to let people rest.
Other planets weren't so lucky.
While most had Holy Spires—key worlds with multiple towers—the coverage was limited, mostly protecting core zones.
These worlds could hold out longer when attacked, buying ti until reinforcents arrived.
In other words, they would still fall under assault—just not as quickly.
Eden sat in the council chamber, listening to one report after another: region reclaid, new plague detected—again and again.
It felt endless.
Even though the response was fast and casualties minimal, the cumulative toll across nurous planets was staggering.
In just one week, billions had already died.
And if the Savior's Domain was suffering like this, how much worse must it be across the rest of the Imperium?
Countless lives were being wiped out—feeding Nurgle, the Plague Lord, with unimaginable power.
Even with prior preparations, the scale of this plague war had far exceeded all expectations.
Eden's thoughts turned elsewhere. "What's the status on the Lord Regent's side?"
"Our dical corps has already aided Ultramar in establishing a hospital world on Axxos, and we've set up treatnt points on other planets too," Tuck said, flipping through reports. "The Lord Regent also followed your advice and reinforced Axxos' defenses."
"Good," Eden nodded. "Send the Regent another shipnt of dical supplies. Make it quick."
Axxos was the primary battleground against Nurgle's forces. The pressure there would be imnse.
If it fell, it would beco a paradise for the plague—capable of birthing God Plague, a horror that could instantly kill a Primarch.
Just a single vial of it could wipe out an entire star system—completely beyond salvation.
By now, Eden understood Nurgle's goal: a constant barrage of assaults designed to drain the Savior's Domain, keeping it too busy to send aid elsewhere.
His only hope was to eradicate the plague swiftly at ho, then mobilize to rescue other territories—especially Ultramar.
"Expand the search paraters. We're running out of ti…"
Eden issued the order.
Psykers and strategists were to broaden their searches, seeking the source of this plague storm.
It had to be tied to the Warp—either a terrible Warp-born disease entity or so special weapon developed by that flapping moth bastard Mortarion.
Eden then traveled via the Webway to the Plague Research Facility—O'Neill, a planet dedicated entirely to studying plagues and producing counterasures.
Their research could beco the key to resisting Nurgle's assault.
…
Plague Research Facility – Laboratory
Fssshhh—
Eden passed through several sterilization units, bathed in anti-contamination gas, and finally entered the lab's core.
Inside were rows of containnt cylinders, each filled with putrid, yellow-mist-emitting infected organisms.
They were plague-borne test subjects.
From ti to ti, their groans echoed through the lab. They were being pumped with various experintal formulas.
Many of the Domain's current vaccines and disinfectants ca from this very facility—saving countless lives.
But it wasn't enough.
Eden needed sothing more effective. A true weapon.
"Savior…" the Protean Apothecary quickly approached, bowing nervously.
The plague war had erupted sooner than expected, and the lab had yet to deliver the promised results. There were re days left on their five-year deadline.
The Savior had poured unimaginable resources into this planet, placing his hopes in it.
If they failed, no one in this facility could face him.
It would be a betrayal. Unforgivable.
Eden remained calm, gesturing for the Apothecary to relax.
He asked, "How far along is the experint?"
"The Black Abyss base just sent in new plague data. We've already synthesized a new formula from it—results should co any mont now," the Apothecary replied.
"If successful, we'll have a powerful dicinal weapon ready for mass production…"
Eden's eyes lit up.
This was exactly what he wanted.
If Nurgle had his apocalyptic plagues, Eden would have his Anti-Plague Super Serum—a concoction of the Little Sun's energy, sacred solar light, and advanced compounds.
It could neutralize almost any known plague.
Once in full production, it would allow for large-scale disinfection—more effective and deadly to Nurgle's creations.
Ti to burn so bacteria!
But before he could get excited, the Apothecary's chanical fra began to spark violently—clearly distressed.
"What's wrong?" Eden's expression hardened.
A mont later, the voice of the Biomancer Sage echoed through the lab:
"Savior… the experint failed. The new serum didn't achieve the desired results…"
Before Eden stood a glass cage.
Inside were seven of Nurgle's Chosen—infected beings. Among them: commoners, nobles, and corrupted cultists.
They looked unremarkable, but every single one carried a world-ending pathogen.
Worse still, standard detection thods couldn't pick them up.
Fortunately, the Demon Inquisition had caught them in ti. And it hadn't even been difficult.
The Savior's Domain had already established a robust monitoring system, and the populace was vigilant against Chaos.
In the more devout districts, enthusiastic citizens were quick to report anyone muttering strange numbers—leading to precise arrests.
Or, if suspicions remained, entire districts would blast hymns to the Emperor, demanding all present sing praises and insult the Plague Lord as a moronic jackass.
Anyone who refused was detained.
And failing that, they'd be sent en masse to bask under the Holy Spire's light. Anyone who reacted… was guilty.
It was an effective system. Almost foolproof.
Those seven captives had been sent here as top-tier test subjects.
They had all been injected with the latest serum.
While signs of burning were evident on their bodies, it hadn't dealt significant damage. Clearly, the experint had failed.
The drugs had so effect on lesser plagues, but they couldn't withstand true plague entities.
"Forty-nine…"
"Ten… five…"
The Nurgle Chosen danced around in their containnt cells, smiling and muttering the sacred numbers of the Plague Father.
But the next mont—
They suddenly returned to normal, begging to be released.
Thud—
One of the Nurgle Chosen, a man who looked like a noble, slamd into the glass wall, groaning in pain as he stared outward.
Though it was a one-way mirror, he seed to see through it.
"One."
The noble murmured.
Dark rings spread around his eyes as he began to count, solemnly: "Two… five, six…"
As he spoke, worm-like parasites wriggled beneath his skin, squirming up into his eyeballs and boring out through them. Pus oozed from his mouth.
His skin cracked, his fingers twisted unnaturally, and his flesh seed to lt like wax.
Behind him, the other Nurgle Chosen gathered, chanting in unison as if to echo him: "Seven, seven, seven, seven, seven, seven, seven!"
Even though this isolation chamber was soundproofed, layered with multiple containnt barriers, and could summon the Holy Sun's divine light at a mont's notice—
It was still not enough to hold back the creeping influence.
Those voices pierced through, chilling the hearts of those outside.
"Seven!!"
The noble pointed a finger outward, screaming like a daemon.
His back bulged and rose grotesquely as a thick, rotting horn pierced through his forehead and twisted upward.
His agony grew—but he laughed. A hollow, cackling sound. The pain no longer troubled him.
Because he had beco a Plaguebearer.
Swarms of flies and disease burst from his body and spread throughout the isolation chamber. Fungal rot began to grow like moss.
The Plaguebearer locked eyes with the outside—staring straight at Eden, as though he truly saw him.
"Life belongs to decay. You cannot stop it…"
He smiled with a scornful expression that words could not describe.
It was a silent mockery—that the Savior was powerless before the plague. That all he could do was destroy, not cure.
Corruption was eternal. New plagues would always arise—like nature's cycle of life and death.
"…How long until you can begin the next drug trial?" Eden took a deep breath and asked.
He knew this was a provocation—either from Nurgle himself or one of his Greater Daemons. He could have had this Plaguebearer tortured to death.
But it would an nothing.
Eden wanted his own dicine—his own weaponized cure—to force-feed this bastard and kill him with science.
The Protean Apothecary slumped a bit, his voice low and digitized. "Our research trajectory was flawed. We'll need to reanalyze a massive amount of data and begin an entirely new path of developnt."
"The process may take at least one full Standard Terran year—assuming no further setbacks."
The Biomancer Sage answered frankly.
In scientific research, a mistaken direction was a nightmare.
It rendered most previous efforts obsolete and consud even more ti moving forward. For the chanicum, a wrong path could cost decades—if not centuries—and waste a tech-priest's entire life.
The Plague Research Institute was better equipped than most—backed by entire worlds, with vast manpower and resources to accelerate their work.
But even so… the Savior's Domain couldn't afford to wait that long.
And what if the next experint failed again?
The Protean Apothecary bowed his head, unable to et Eden's eyes. He had failed the one being he respected most.
Yet Eden did not scold him. Not even a flicker of disappointnt crossed his face.
Scientific progress always ca with failure—he had expected this.
More importantly, he had a backup plan.
Eden looked at the Apothecary and reminded him, "You should seek a greater intellect. Only then might you find the true path."
"You an the Omnissiah…?" the Apothecary asked hesitantly.
He shook his head and sighed. "With the Machine God's guidance, we've already done everything possible… and still failed."
He didn't dare blasphe.
In truth, the AI construct known as Little Spirit had already provided all available biological data and computational support. Even the Goddess of Life, Aisha, had shared her sacred knowledge.
But the plague… was overwhelming.
Even with the energy of the Little Sun and the Holy Sun, it wasn't enough.
Maybe I'm just too small to wield such divine power, the Apothecary thought bitterly.
"No," Eden said calmly. "I'm not referring to the Omnissiah. Nor any other being."
"I speak of the most intelligent entity in the universe—one who possesses all knowledge, past, present, and future."
"A being whose library contains every truth that was, is, or ever will be."
The implication was obvious.
And as the Apothecary listened, his expression changed.
Because the being Eden spoke of… was a terrifying Warp entity.
A Chaos God—master of change, curiosity, innovation, knowledge, and sorcery:
Tzeentch, the Changer of Ways.
"You an… the Lord of—no! Please, my lord, I swear I would never commit such heresy!"
The Apothecary panicked.
Every tech-priest feared that na.
Yes, Tzeentch could offer knowledge—but always at a terrible cost. His gifts ca laced with chaos and madness.
To invoke him was to risk eternal ruin.
And even suggesting contact with him was considered treason.
The Apothecary glanced at the entrance, half-expecting Inquisition agents to storm in and drag him off to so black-site prison.
Is the Savior testing ?
Data and alarms raced through his cybernetic brain. Eden was too sharp—not even a stray thought escaped his awareness.
Within seconds, the Apothecary's ntal defenses collapsed.
He dropped to his knees and begged, "Savior… I have felt the presence of that forbidden one—but I swear, I never once crossed the line!"
"My loyalty to you has never wavered!"
The pressure on him was imnse. He yearned for the knowledge to create the perfect cure.
And lately… a shifting blue silhouette had often appeared in his thoughts.
That terrible being—Tzeentch—had been tempting him, whispering forbidden truths. It felt as if with that knowledge, the cure could be real.
But he had refused. Again and again.
No matter how sweet the offer or how terrible the threats, he had never given in.
As he knelt, his sensors detected new arrivals.
A squad of High Inquisitors from the Demon Inquisition entered the lab—cold, rciless, and fully ard.
"I accept any punishnt…" the Apothecary whispered, defeated.
His faith had been tainted. Even if he had done nothing wrong… the thought alone was heresy.
"What punishnt?" Eden asked softly.
He reached out and helped the man to his feet.
"This domain needs people like you more than ever."
As he spoke, the Inquisitors gave a slight bow and marched past them, forming a defensive periter around the isolation chamber.
Their orders were only to guard this place against incident.
"…You're not here to arrest ?"
The Apothecary exhaled shakily.
"Of course not. So—did you see the blue bird-man?"
Eden grinned. "Thought so. My guess was right."
"I'll build a summoning altar. You're going to have a little chat with Tzeentch—see what answers he offers."
"…Huh?!"
The Apothecary nearly scread. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
He didn't even dare to reply—the Inquisition was still there!
Silence filled the lab.
The High Inquisitors, hearing the keywords, instinctively reached for their weapons and cast icy glares in the Apothecary's direction—then one by one… turned their heads.
They heard nothing. Knew nothing.
If the great Savior chose this path, he must have his reasons.
Were they going to arrest him?
Eden also realized this wasn't the best place for such matters. He led the Apothecary to a more secluded area and reiterated his intentions.
He wanted to make it clear: he was serious.
Nurgle, among the four Chaos Gods, had beco obscenely powerful—threatening to surpass all others.
Tzeentch, who frequently toyed with Khorne or was pounded by him in turn, had always been Nurgle's truest rival.
Where Tzeentch represented innovation, transformation, and chaos—
Nurgle stood for fatalism, stagnation, and blissful decay.
Now, with the Plague War in full swing, Tzeentch was panicking.
He had been doing everything to obstruct Nurgle's rise.
He had even reached out to the Plague Research Institute's chief researcher, offering knowledge to defeat the plague.
He was truly desperate.
Now was the perfect ti to consult the Changer of Ways. Ask a question—get a guaranteed answer. Tzeentch was practically begging to be useful.
"Then… what do I do?" the Apothecary asked, pale with fear.
He might be a Sage, but facing a Chaos God terrified him.
Eden smiled. "Don't worry. I'll go with you—to protect your soul."
With his current power, shielding one mortal soul wasn't difficult.
He would send part of his own soul into the Crystal Labyrinth with the Apothecary—not just for protection, but also…
To see if he could swindle a little knowledge from Tzeentch.
Opportunities like this didn't co often.
(End of Chapter)
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