In the center of the vast square...
A towering idol of a daemon god rose to the skies, forged from blood, corrupted matter, and corroded steel. Chaotic warp energy surged within, radiating pure heresy and blasphemy.
The idol stood massive and imposing, like a mountainous figure. Its skin, deep crimson and scorched with rune-carved scars, seemed to have been branded by hellfire.
From its forehead arched two enormous, twisted horns like a crown of corruption, symbolizing power and dominion. Jagged spikes extended from the horns down its back.
On its shoulders flared two mighty demonic wings, ablaze with infernal flame—each flap a promise of destruction and despair.
Moreover, the idol's image constantly shifted, spreading further warp-taint and corruption.
It was a figure that would make any Imperial priest or Inquisitor scream "For the Emperor!" before desperately trying to incinerate it into ashes.
At this moment, the blazing eyes of the daemon idol looked down upon the land, sharp and filled with malice. Every chaotic creature within its gaze could feel the presence of this vile god.
It invoked both fear and awe—commanding obedience.
"As expected, the Ecclesiarchy's methods are reliable. Faith really is the best method of governance..."
Eden observed his Chaos domain through the idol's vision, relishing the feeling of complete control.
Though the Chaos warriors had all signed blood pacts with him, managing these unstable minds was no easy feat.
After much thought, he realized that religion offered an excellent control mechanism.
Thus, Eden reached out to Doni, the newly anointed Living Saint and the zealous High Priest of the Urth Ecclesiarchy, asking him to draft a faith-spreading plan.
Of course, Eden didn't tell the old fanatic that he planned to use this faith to dominate Chaos lifeforms.
Instead, he gave Doni a hypothetical scenario: "Suppose there's a group of human offshoots, hostile to mankind, worshipping alien gods, and suffering from unstable thoughts—how would one instill faith among them?"
Unbeknownst to Doni, the behavioral patterns and profiles of this group matched Chaos Space Marines almost perfectly. Eden had simply changed the names.
"Lord Savior! This touches upon the very truth of faith! Please allow me to personally bring salvation to these mutated human souls!" Doni had said with burning fervor in his eyes.
Fortunately, Eden had calmed the old man down, claiming it was only a theoretical request and that the Savior's realm needed a contingency plan on ideological infiltration.
Doni was something of an outlier within the Ecclesiarchy—his teachings were so radical they bordered on universal redemption.
In fact, his ultimate goal in faith was to convert xenos and even Greater Daemons to the service of the Emperor.
A few years ago, Doni heard there was a captured Greater Daemon in the Daemon Research Institute and immediately ran over to preach.
Two weeks later, the daemon—who had been painstakingly captured by the Inquisition—self-destructed in despair.
That incident caused a major conflict between the Ecclesiarchy and the research institute, which demanded compensation for the loss.
Doni had sunk into depression for a while afterward, only to resume his obsessive theological research on converting Chaos.
Thankfully, this research was kept personal and never officially endorsed by the Urth Ecclesiarchy—otherwise he would've been excommunicated long ago.
Still, Eden's materials reignited Doni's passion.
To him, this mysterious "human offshoot" appeared to be a perfect combination of humanity, alien, and heretic—a prime opportunity to test his inclusive doctrine.
So Doni and his circle of high-ranking priests devoted themselves to constructing a suitable doctrine.
Soon enough, Eden received the proposal and was quite satisfied.
The only problem? The faith was centered around the Emperor.
That obviously wouldn't work in a Chaos territory.
So Eden kidnapped a group of Chaos preachers and heretical scholars and had them overhaul the entire system, repurposing the structure into a brand-new belief system.
Of course, any belief system needed a god.
Unfortunately, Eden's identities—Dark Prince, Nameless Daemon—weren't powerful or revered enough to serve as a true deity. Even his real self, a miniature warp sun, only absorbed faith through his borrowed image of the Emperor and the Holy Sun.
Left with no other choice, he created a fictional Chaos deity: Diabolo.
The warp is fundamentally idealistic—say something exists, and it might just become real. If enough people believe in it, it will become real.
In this new belief system, Diabolo slumbered deep within the warp, an as-yet-unawakened god of destruction and fear, representing boundless firepower and terrifying might.
His followers were expected to remain vigilant, constantly train, and unleash hellfire on their enemies.
Once enough heretical energy was accumulated, Diabolo would descend upon reality.
His faithful would then be elevated, granted unmatched power, and carry the flames of hell to every corner of the galaxy.
Diabolo was also portrayed as a generous deity.
He demanded no cruel trials, no arbitrary torture—only loyalty. In return, he granted strength, weapons, and the joy of endless war.
Until all things burned.
And naturally, the Dark Prince, the Nameless One, was Diabolo's first follower—his chosen herald.
Basically, Eden ripped off a famous demonic figure from a certain game in his past life and Chaos-ified it.
As long as it worked, that was all that mattered.
Now, with the Chaos temples and the idol of Diabolo fully constructed, his preachers were spreading the new gospel across Black Abyss.
This ideology would subtly reshape the minds of the Chaos warriors, leading them to align with the new faith, obey Eden's will, and regulate their behavior accordingly.
To Eden's surprise, the rollout of this new doctrine went much smoother than expected. The Chaos warriors hardly resisted.
But that wasn't surprising. After all, this god had been tailor-made for them.
Diabolo offered apocalyptic weapons, strength, and the freedom to wage war without restraint.
No twisted trials. No creepy rituals. No body horror mutations you didn't sign up for.
He was more generous than Papa Nurgle or the Blood God. Who wouldn't want to worship him?
That said, this was still a dangerous move.
The warp was like a wishing well—if people believed hard enough, sometimes things happened. Things you couldn't control.
To prevent that, Eden tethered the Diabolo persona directly to the dark side of his miniature sun self.
Diabolo was effectively a sock puppet for his own power's shadow—controllable, contained.
Even the Emperor couldn't escape the corruption of his dark side.
So Eden figured, why wait to become a warped abomination through passive exposure? Better to control and shape that corruption himself.
This fake god was also the perfect pressure valve for his dark power.
So long as someone worshiped "him," fought in his name, or prayed to him, Eden could toss them a bit of dark power.
At no cost to himself.
It was also a way to compete with the Chaos Gods.
Why would anyone serve a stingy god who twisted and tormented their own followers, when they could serve one who gives?
The galaxy was full of Chaos followers.
Better that their faith be redirected toward Eden than toward the enemy. Then, when the time came, he could break them free of Chaos altogether.
His forces could become specialists in "liberating" Chaos-corrupted worlds—converting cultists and heretics into loyal followers of Diabolo and weakening the Ruinous Powers from within.
The coming Plague War would be a perfect opportunity for this strategy.
While the Imperium and Savior's Realm fought the main battle, Eden could slip in from the rear, taking a chunk out of Mortarion's domain.
Let the moth-winged traitor learn what it means to fight everyone.
Unfortunately, Black Abyss's current strength was insufficient.
It held only a little over 2,000 Chaos Space Marines.
While that was more than some official Astartes Chapters or warbands, in the Eye of Terror, it was only a mid-tier force.
To truly make waves in the upcoming war, Eden needed at least 50,000 Chaos warriors.
So for now, all he could do was throw money around, recruit aggressively, and expand his forces.
Beneath the idol of Diabolo…
The Chaos warriors had gathered, divided into multiple squads, their bloodlust palpable.
"Warriors! Hear the call of the King of Terror!"
Kryon roared to the hundreds before him, "He watches us, hungering for destruction and fear! We shall offer our enemies as sacrifices—let their souls scream in the flames of hell!"
He led the war cry with fierce enthusiasm, though he couldn't shake a strange feeling.
Somehow, this all felt eerily like the pre-battle speeches he used to give when he was still with the Imperium…
Still, Kryon pushed on.
Only by obeying the god's decrees and pleasing the King of Terror could he gain even greater strength.
He could feel the gaze upon him. His voice grew louder.
"Fear! Slaughter!"
The Chaos warriors howled in unison. Chainswords revved. Bolters ignited with fury.
It was chaos—but with structure.
With every shout, a wave of dark power descended on them all.
Minuscule though it was, it inflamed their rage, deepened their bloodlust, and anchored their belief.
Soon, they marched up warp-forged staircases toward the star-docks above.
Back on his obsidian throne…
Eden chuckled with satisfaction. "Nice... another wave of dark power distributed."
He had just released another sliver of the shadow within his little sun, feeding it into his zealous followers.
To maintain stability, there had to be a balance between giving and taking.
It also made him appear generous and magnanimous. Hoarding everything for oneself was distasteful—uplifting one's followers was the proper path.
Take Khorne, the Blood God, for example. He devoured nine-tenths of the warp energy generated by slaughter and war, and only tossed his followers the scraps.
And even those weren't guaranteed—only those who met their performance quotas got anything. The worst performers were culled.
He was the epitome of a heartless middleman and slave driver.
But things were different here. He gave when he could, gave as much as he had, and even rewarded his most loyal followers with bonuses from his own reserves.
It was full-on positive reinforcement.
Of course, this stemmed from a difference in needs.
Khorne had to remain powerful to compete with the other Chaos Gods.
Eden's little sun's Light Aspect also took a hefty share of the faith energy in order to sustain its own growth—only the overflow was shared as blessings.
However, his Dark Aspect was more of a side gig and had to be suppressed from growing too powerful.
That's why he could afford to be so generous.
As for the God-Emperor's Holy Sun… well, that was awkward. The Emperor was half-crippled, yet still force-fed an immense volume of human faith every day.
Even with mass production of Living Saints and the cursed Psyker Regiments, the rate of consumption couldn't keep up with the intake.
Nowadays, the primary way to discharge excess faith energy was through the Savior's domain, where a Warp extraction apparatus artificially siphoned it off and repurposed it.
After Eden and the other Chaos warriors departed, he sank into slumber once more, the black throne shrouded in thick, inky mists.
That's the hassle of holding down two jobs—his consciousness had to return to his main body to handle administrative affairs.
…
Aboard a Chaos warship.
Twisted flesh and black matter coated much of the vessel.
Chaos warriors roamed the great hall, carving up and devouring massive beasts with reckless abandon. Blood flooded the floor, attracting swarms of minor warp entities that quietly slurped up bits of meat and blood.
No one paid them any mind.
This was normal aboard a Chaos ship. The spawned warp lifeforms were impossible to purge—in fact, they were arguably part of the ship itself.
Golrat, clad in a uniform with tentacles wrapped around a black data-slate, hurried forward.
He had to inspect the ammunition reserves.
After the Dark Prince claimed the Black Abyss Star, he liberated all the slaves.
No longer would they be butchered or forced to fight to the death over rotten scraps of food. Safety was guaranteed.
Many of the former slaves received training and were assigned new roles and identities.
Golrat was one such case. He had been chosen to serve as a Dark Crewman aboard this ship, overseeing the ammunition stores.
He kept his head down and walked quickly through the hall.
He was still scared—worried that, like before, one of these savage warriors might kill him for amusement, without reason.
Thud—
A dull impact.
Golrat felt like he'd walked into a wall.
With a gasp, he looked up and saw a Chaos Space Marine, blood dribbling from his mouth as he chewed something, making him look even more monstrous.
Just as Golrat reached peak terror—
"Watch it, runt!"
The Chaos Marine glared, visibly annoyed, but suppressed the urge to kill and walked away.
"Thank the Fear Lord's grace!"
Golrat exhaled in relief and resumed his journey.
He was deeply grateful to the Dark God, Diabolos, and longed to offer more of his strength to deliver terror and destruction in His name.
It brought him comfort.
Diabolos, for all the ruin and dread he sowed among enemies, also protected his followers from catastrophe. The Dark Gospel recorded this.
In simpler terms—he protected his own.
This, of course, was thanks to Eden slipping in some of his personal values. If one examined the doctrine carefully, they'd find Diabolos was "evil so righteous he looped back into good," "dark so deep it turned red."
The dark tenets nearly spelled out "unity, cooperation, hard work, and progress."
Contradictory, yet oddly logical.
For example, Diabolos forbade his followers from killing one another without reason or causing internal strife or damage to allied forces.
All weapons and wrath were to be directed solely at the enemy.
They were to be utterly destroyed—consumed in fear and ruin.
Of course, internal conflict wasn't banned entirely. If there was a grudge, they could resolve it in the arena or through duels, with other warriors bearing witness.
The goal was to contain chaos to a manageable degree, preventing the generation of too much warp entropy—lest other Chaos Gods benefit.
As their power expanded, they would absorb more followers from the other dark gods, implementing stricter regulation—using evil to control evil.
All of this was part of an experiment. If it didn't work, they'd try something else.
After all, they were Chaos followers—how much worse could it get?
...
The Eye of Terror.
Eightfold Scab Warband's Base.
Boom—Boom—Boom—
The Khorne-affiliated warband's small planetoid stronghold came under heavy bombardment. The two Chaos ships stationed there stood no chance.
Soon, both were boarded and lost all contact.
On the command deck:
"Commence the assault. Annihilate everything!"
Seeing the enemy fleet crushed, Kryon gave the order for ground assault. Dozens of Raptors and other war machines dropped toward the surface.
Flaming capsules smashed into the ground, sending tremors through the soil.
"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"
The Khorne warriors had waited long for this and surged toward the invaders en masse.
But when they saw the terrifyingly well-equipped Chaos warriors, their charge faltered.
Something was… off.
They had never seen Chaos forces with such high-grade gear.
Compared to their own worn-out armor—
These invaders wore pristine, warp-charged power armor. Their weapons radiated menace. Fully a quarter of them were Chaos Terminators.
Richer than the Imperials?!
And then came the real terror—over thirty Chaos Dreadnoughts, and more than twenty Centurion Devastators?!
The Khorne warriors froze.
Why did these attackers, with fewer troops, have so many elite war machines?!
"Take their skulls!"
But the enemy was right there. No time to hesitate. They launched into battle on instinct.
And then they were shredded by overwhelming firepower. Specialized bolter rounds tore them apart—melta vengeance shells, annihilation payloads.
Even warp-purged rounds meant specifically to counter Chaos.
What the hell?!
"Are these really Chaos troops?!"
The Khorne warriors were utterly frustrated. Their line collapsed. Even in melee, they were overwhelmed.
"I am slaughter—I am the embodiment of fear!"
Kryon led the charge, his terror troops butchering enemies with such brutality that even the corpses were obliterated.
The Dreadnoughts and Centurions followed up with suppressing fire, maintaining pressure and dread.
They could feel their Dark God's gaze, feel the terror of the enemy.
And that fear only fueled their strength.
Boom—Boom—Boom—
A Chaos Titan landed.
The gargantuan war machine stomped over buildings, bathing everything in flame.
"Blood God help us!"
The Khorne warband collapsed. A Chaos Titan for a medium-sized warband?! Overkill much?
But the fear crushed them. Their lines broke. They fled, scrambling.
Kryon smashed the Khorne Champion's blood-axe, pinned him beneath his boot—
But he didn't kill him. Instead, he casually tossed a master-crafted power axe wreathed in bloodflame at his feet:
"Faith in the Blood God leads nowhere. Follow us. Follow the great Fear Lord…"
(End of Chapter)
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