Nimrod's body crackled with unrestrained energy, his form expanding and elongating at a rate discernible to the naked eye.
In the span of a single breath, the Mithral Steel armor encasing him shattered under the strain, its fragments barely clinging to his vital regions, offering scant protection to his physiological necessities.
In an instant, his stature rivaled that of a mature adult, yet his frame was far more robust, imbued with a primal might that seemed to defy mortal limits.
The transformation persisted, unrelenting. Simultaneously, within Nimrod's mind, a deluge of information surged forth, a tsunami of knowledge cascading through his consciousness.
Amid this vast ocean, the essence of the "Barbarian" Pathway emerged like rivers converging into a boundless sea.
Yet, unlike his prior ascension, the dominant current was not the Beyonder knowledge of the potion but a deeper, primordial wellspring—the ancient wisdom encoded within his genes. This genetic knowledge transcended mere combat, encompassing not only the vulnerabilities of myriad races and machines but also the artistry of warfare, the science of battle, and the crystallized achievements of human civilization itself.
Nimrod's body swelled as if inflated by some divine bellows, his form burgeoning with each passing moment.
When he opened his eyes, he perceived that the furnace before him had diminished in size.
[No! It is not the furnace that has shrunk, but I who have become a giant!
The "Barbarian" Pathway grants three Beyonder abilities, the cornerstone of which is "Physical Enhancement." Beyonders of this Sequence possess terrifying strength and an indomitable physique.
Yet, as a Primarch, I am no ordinary mortal. The potion's power has awakened the latent forces within my genes, merging the two to reshape my form.
Though catalyzed by the potion, the core of this transformation is driven by the dormant power within my Primarch body.]
Nimrod methodically cataloged the full spectrum of abilities gained through this enhancement.
The second Beyonder ability of the "Barbarian" was Spiritual Fortification, rendering his mind more resilient.
Amplified by the mental awakening of his Primarch genes, his will had become unyielding, his spirit as unassailable as adamantium.
The third Beyonder ability was Pulmonary Enhancement, coupled with the power of "Mad Howl."
"Mad Howl" required a deep inhalation, channeling air through a uniquely reinforced lung structure to amplify and transform it into a frenzied roar. The resulting ultrasonic waves would stun enemies, instilling paralyzing fear in their hearts.
[This ability is absent from my prior memories. It must be intricately tied to the Lung Spider's sac.]
Only now did Nimrod grasp the evolutionary ambition of the Nation of Disorder.
Having broken free from the seals of Blue Star's Western Continent, the Sefirah had borne him to the Warhammer universe, seeking rarer materials to craft potions imbued with ever greater Beyonder properties. Each Sequence would surpass its predecessor in potency.
[High-Sequence materials may well include fragments of Star Gods, the only substances capable of satisfying the Sefirah's demand for essential transformation.
When I ascend to an Old One, merging fully with the Nation of Disorder, we shall achieve ultimate evolution together.]
Having delineated the "Barbarian" Beyonder abilities, Nimrod turned to the genetic memories now accessible to him.
Crafted by the Emperor as a war machine, his Primarch knowledge was predominantly martial—strategies of war and military tactics dominated, with architecture, art, and other disciplines forming a minor fraction.
[Even so, this breadth of knowledge elevates me far beyond the scholars of any single field.]
Completing his inventory of newfound powers, Nimrod regarded the tattered armor, now reduced to mere chest and groin coverings, with a wry smile.
[Not without drawbacks—my armor has become a breastplate and codpiece.]
Seizing the short-range vox-comm, he issued orders for the forge-artisans to prepare modular armor suited to his new form.
He then retrieved the Moonstone and other materials from the Nation of Disorder, resuming the compounding of the "Sleepless" potion.
A work cycle later, Nimrod donned his new armor.
To call it armor was generous—it was a lattice of Miguel Steel hastily cobbled together.
In such short order, the artisans could neither craft a suit befitting a superhuman nor one capable of harnessing the full might of a demigod's physique.
Nimrod was unperturbed. For now, it sufficed to shield his body.
True armor, worthy of a Primarch, would likely only be forged upon his return to the Imperium.
He summoned Bukayo to the control room, taking the freshly compounded "Sleepless" potion with him.
At the control room's threshold, Bukayo awaited, his posture one of deference. Upon seeing a giant approach, he recoiled in shock.
His initial thought was of the Ogryns they had faced, his hand instinctively gripping his weapon.
Yet, something was amiss. This giant towered beyond even the tallest Ogryn, exceeding four meters in height. Navigating a passage designed for mortals, he stooped to avoid the ceiling.
Bukayo craned his neck, glimpsing the giant's unarmored neck. Unlike the coarse hide of an Ogryn, his skin gleamed like polished jade.
A peculiar radiance emanated from him, akin to the divine auras of Old Night's mythic deities, before the Martian priests' arrival.
Bukayo felt an inexplicable compulsion to kneel, to venerate this descended god.
"Bukayo," a voice like rolling thunder issued from the divine figure, "follow me inside."
The boy stared, dazed, as the god pushed open the control room door with a single finger, ducking to enter. A realization exploded in his mind, and he murmured uncertainly, "Boss…?"
"It is I," Nimrod replied, struggling to find a comfortable stance in the confined space. "Come in."
Bukayo's mind swirled with questions.
[How, in less than a shift, has the boss become a giant?
Is he a descended deity?
He must be, come to save us from the hive's cruelty!]
Snapping from his reverie, Bukayo hurried into the control room, closing the door and bowing reverently to Nimrod.
"Boss… no… deity…"
Flustered, unsure of the proper address, he faltered until the thunderous voice spoke again.
"I am no deity."
In the Imperium of this era, the Imperial Truth reigned. As Bukayo was a candidate for cultivation, Nimrod deemed it necessary to correct his terminology.
Bukayo paused, his mind racing through memories of his family's library. After a few seconds, he ventured, "I offer my loyalty, my lord."
"Acceptable."
Such titles were common for Primarchs and posed no issue.
"This is your reward."
Nimrod extended his massive hand, palm open. Bukayo approached as if on pilgrimage, accepting a metal goblet with both hands, his reverence palpable.
"Drink."
At the command, Bukayo hesitated not a moment, tilting his head back and pouring the inky liquid into his mouth.
Darkness enveloped him, an eternal night. In terror and helplessness, he beheld his body below, dwarfed by the towering figure before him.
Meeting eyes deeper than the void, he heard the majestic voice guide him.
"Do as I say. Visualize an object falling in your mind…"
Under Nimrod's tutelage, Bukayo mastered meditation and spiritual vision.
Now a Beyonder, his devotion deepened.
[Such power can only be bestowed by a deity this potion is merely a conduit.]
…
Over a thousand elite followers trailed Nimrod, their eyes fixed upon his mountain-like silhouette, brimming with adoration and awe.
They sensed a shift from their past. Where once they fought for survival, now they pursued a higher calling, following their lord in a noble endeavor.
Though their limited lexicon could not articulate it, and their understanding remained nascent, they felt its truth in their bones.
--
A/N: Some may claim Tzeentch gleans knowledge from the minds of cultivated Beyonders. Consider divination as an example. Even if Tzeentch acquired all such knowledge, it could not replicate it for its followers.
Only by consuming a potion can one gain Beyonder abilities—knowledge alone is insufficient. Without the potion, even with its formula, Tzeentch cannot create a "Diviner," as only Nimrod possesses the recipes. It may grant its followers divinatory powers, but these belong to a distinct system from Beyonders.
(T/N: Advice guys! You would know it's chinese translation if they use diviner instead of seer, atleast half of chinese lotm translation fics that I read use diviner instead of seer)
By analogy, teaching a mortal all Astartes techniques is futile without their physique. Knowing a potion's secrets without consuming it yields no Beyonder abilities.
Sequence potions transform the Beyonder's essence progressively.
For a detailed explanation, see Chapter 18.