My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 494: If Slaanesh Really Just Wanted to Climb the Rankings, It Would Be Fine... Wait, Does She Actually Want That?
It was a dim afternoon beneath a fading eternal sun.
Seated upon the Golden Throne, the Emperor watched Slaanesh manipulate the Black Domain, his rage boiling over. He found himself recalling that day upon the burning ruins of Prospero, when they had spoken openly with one another.
Back then, Hades still possessed his sanity. Tears glimmered in his eyes—though Neoth could never determine whether they were genuine emotion or simply another dramatic flourish from Hades.
Filled with heartfelt emotion, the Lord of the Underworld had said: "Neoth, Malcador, ever since I arrived here, I haven't had a single good day."
"And because of that, I've realized something—suffering is endless."
"This damned, rotten world always waits until you think you've reached the end of your rope—"
Hades paused.
The Emperor thought he was recalling the events surrounding Angron's rescue.
"—before it comes up with some brand-new bullshit."
Indeed.
Seated upon the Throne, golden flames burning within his eyes, Neoth gazed toward the distant Palace of Six Desires.
Suffering was endless—for him, and for Hades alike.
And—
Listening to the furious shrieks and roars echoing throughout the Warp, he reflected that, as Hades would say:
The world's capacity for producing fresh disasters was also endless.
. . .
After witnessing Slaanesh waiting within the Circle of Pleasure, the enraged Three Gods immediately understood what Slaanesh was trying to do.
She was using this opportunity to cast off her own shackles, allowing her future self to become even stronger.
By abandoning portions of the supplementary power that conflicted with her core authority, she could obtain purer power, greater room for growth, and a freer future.
Perhaps that had indeed been Slaanesh's original intention.
But...
A new problem emerged.
Slaanesh valued stimulation above all else.
Would she really remain committed to the plan all the way through?
If it had been any of the other three gods, the possibility would have been negligible.
But this was Slaanesh.
Could a being obsessed with excitement truly control how much of herself she invested in the Black Domain?
Might she suddenly change her mind midway through, throwing her entire existence into this heart-stopping Dance of Death simply to prolong the ultimate thrill?
No god—not even Slaanesh herself—could answer that question with certainty.
The key to predicting a game of strategy lay in understanding one's opponent's interests and desires, only then could one calculate and foresee their moves.
Unfortunately, neither the Emperor nor Tzeentch had anticipated Slaanesh's madness.
On the path Slaanesh had chosen for herself, a single misstep in the dance would bring complete oblivion—not only to her, but to the Warp itself.
And the lunatic was loving every second of it.
Perhaps she had begun this journey in pursuit of some grand "great work."
But as the Dance of Death progressed, that madwoman's sudden change of heart no longer seemed unlikely.
Pray.
Pray that before they managed to distract the Lord of the Underworld from its current feast, Slaanesh would not simply succumb to ecstasy and desire and throw herself into the abyss.
Violent waves of power erupted throughout the Warp—Tzeentch, Khorne, and Nurgle howling in despair and fury.
Around the golden figure seated upon the Throne, layer after layer of radiant light exploded outward.
Whether or not this had been part of Tzeentch's plan—in the end, the Emperor chose to personally enter the game.
Upon Cadia, Hades still retained a physical body.
Within the endless River Styx flowing through his neck, the Emperor's finger bone gave off a faint flicker.
Blood trickled from the Emperor's lips.
Unfortunately, Tzeentch was no longer in a position to celebrate the Emperor's intervention.
. . .
~Beautiful~ wonderful~ intoxicating waters of oblivion~~
She hummed softly.
The Youngest Queen felt as though her entire being was melting away, dissolving into those exquisite waters of the Underworld.
A ruined, tattered shell of flesh lay languidly upon a bed.
Blood flowed from raw muscle where no skin remained.
The bed was enveloped in violent violet radiance.
The purple light was descending at an unbelievable speed, as though sacrificing itself.
It was only because of this light that the bed remained afloat upon the black river below.
Yet even empowered by the Youngest Queen's divine strength, it continued sinking into the dark waters—slowly, steadily, inexorably.
He was terrifyingly uncompromising.
Slaanesh thought so.
Casually extending a hand that had only just regenerated, she let it dangle over the bedside and teased the waters of death.
The river, which had been wholly focused on consuming the entire palace, stirred for a moment.
A tiny wave leapt upward.
With perfect precision, it passed through the second joint of Slaanesh's finger.
Without the slightest pause, the severed finger fell into the river and vanished forever.
Slaanesh withdrew her hand and casually began chewing on the severed finger of her current body.
If only her physical form could remain there for even a single nanosecond...
She blinked in confusion and stared up at the soaring dome of the Circle of Pleasure. Above her stretched magnificent murals fashioned from stained glass and living bodily fluids. Countless men, women, men-women, women-men, and every conceivable combination gazed down at her simultaneously, as though asking where this endless revelry would ultimately lead.
The River of Death slowly climbed the walls, consuming those exquisite figures and revealing the empty, chaotic Warp beyond.
She could feel the irritated stares.
The Dark Prince giggled.
It was a rare sensation.
A different kind of excitement.
She had not felt anything like this for a very long time.
Wars between gods were endless.
And under the wash of infinite time, endlessness inevitably became repetition, stagnation, monotony.
Now, however, the fury of the other gods filled the Youngest Queen with delight.
Slaanesh lowered another finger into the water.
The river happily accepted yet another gift from the Dark Prince.
Gazing at the fleeting trace of golden light that flashed across the river's surface, Slaanesh lost herself in thought.
Of course she knew about their little schemes...
...Let them do as they pleased...
There were not many opportunities left for Slaanesh to escape.
The Dark Prince thought lazily.
At this moment, she was experiencing a rare state of satisfaction, a brief fullness after overwhelming desire had been fulfilled.
This was the paradise of bliss she and her followers had always pursued.
And next time, the threshold required to enter that paradise would rise even higher.
She needed to act soon.
Casually, the Youngest Queen pulled a skeleton into her arms from the bed and kissed it.
It was not as though she had failed to prepare contingencies.
She had chosen to make use of Fulgrim's body, placing Fulgrim's soul upon Cadia.
She had split and reforged the first three circles and the latter three circles of Bliss.
She had abandoned Gluttony and Greed.
She had used Pleasure itself as bait.
All of it had been done for a single purpose:
To continue existing.
To cast aside those irrelevant impurities that interfered with one another.
To draw closer to her core nature.
To trade away excess for greater power in the future.
But now...
Now...
The Dark Prince let out a cry that was both painful and sweet.
He was going deeper.
The sensation interrupted Slaanesh's thoughts—or rather, she herself had no desire to contemplate such serious and tedious matters during this wonderful, hazy moment.
She could feel the Crown of Ambition deep within the Sixth Circle growing dim.
The true divine body slumbering within the depths of the palace twisted restlessly.
Drops of black water seeped from every crack.
Slowly.
Steadily.
They sealed every exit.
Occupying the body of a Primarch, the Youngest Queen burst into laughter and could not stop herself from writhing once more.
He knew.
Of course He knew what was better.
Greedy, insatiable Lord of the Underworld!
Just moments ago, in order to prolong this sweet agony, Slaanesh had decisively sacrificed a small portion of the latter three circles' power in exchange for continuing her marvelous game with the Black Domain.
She desperately needed to act.
The scythe of permanent oblivion was slowly sliding across her throat.
Yet the Dark Prince merely laughed, rolling across silken sheets and allowing herself to sink ever deeper into the river of death.
The already-faint violet glow flickered once.
Then vanished.
The bed of desire carrying her ruined body finally plunged into the Abyss of Oblivion.
Thus, the first three circles of Slaanesh's palace fell completely into the River Styx.
The waters surged onward toward even deeper regions.
There was no sign of retreat.
...Whatever.
Let the other four handle it.
After all, they would throw everything they had into the effort.
As for her—
She only needed to enjoy it.
To savor this ultimate, exquisite thrill.
With her desires temporarily satisfied, yet still eagerly anticipating the ecstasy of approaching death, Slaanesh—having shed nearly half of her authority—closed her eyes in contentment.
She needed time to digest it all.
While the waters of the Underworld continued beating against her gates, Slaanesh drifted into a sweet slumber.
This supreme stimulation.
This absolute gamble between life and death.
...
Meanwhile, her remaining peers were on the verge of losing their minds.
+SLAANESH!!!!!+
The furious roar calling out to the Dark Prince echoed throughout the Warp, lingering for a very, very long time.
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