+What is the "Self" of Alexander?+
+Is a Alexander possessed or seized by a demon still Alexander?+
+Is a Alexander whose will has been shattered and scattered across the entire realm still Alexander?+
+Is a Alexander who has lost self-awareness and continuity of will still Alexander?+
+Is a Alexander who has been split into two parts, becoming two independent divine entities, still Alexander?+
The young girl asked with a smile.
The Immaterium began to stir, and the Gods let out roars. They realized they had been deceived by the girl. From the beginning, her goal was the ritual itself; she intended to use it to tear Alexander apart and cast him into Chaos, ensuring he would no longer be himself.
+I know you cannot fully comprehend what I am saying, because you do not know where those extraordinary tools of Alexander's come from.+
+Perhaps you believe they are some manifestation of the realm of Malicious Artistry, but I tell you now: Alexander's pocket connects to a... a 22nd-century department store. All his tools originate from there.+
+Incomprehensible? It is indeed miraculous and difficult to grasp. Information regarding Doraemon and the 22nd century was personally hidden and destroyed by me; it is only natural that you know nothing of it.+
+The technology of that 22nd century far surpasses the sum of the entire Warp. Even its civilian tech or children's toys are enough to overturn the Immaterium. That is Alexander's greatest reliance—and my deepest fear.+
+Only Alexander can connect to the 22nd century. If the individual "Alexander" vanishes from this world... there will no longer be tools from the 22nd century to interfere with this reality.+
The girl's gaze swept over the three tides of Chaos sprawling within the Empyrean. +And the Warp has no time. Once the Alexander of this moment loses his self, the Alexander of the past will likewise lose his self, losing the ability to purchase items from the Future Department Store.+
+Many events will cease to hold true; many chains of causality will collapse. And I shall be resurrected from within that collapse.+
Crimson lightning, red as blood, pierced the heavens. The Blood God was the first to let out an enraged battle cry, drawing a warhammer flowing with searing blood from beside the Brass Throne. The roars, fury, and killing intent of ten thousand Astartes, mixed with the fires of Exterminatus, flickered upon it. It was the essence of a war, an echo in the Warp—the beginning of a rebellion: the Battle of Isstvan III.
Khorne raised the hammer forged from the Isstvan III campaign and hurled it violently toward Sicarus, the Daemon World occupied by Lorgar. The Blood God sought to kill the girl directly before the ritual could truly be completed—this was what he did best.
But the girl slowly opened her mouth, and rhythmic syllables spilled from her lips. An incantation...
These complex triple syllables contained three meanings: "Mimicry," "Recurrence," and "Similarity." To achieve a similar effect through a similar cause.
The moment the incantation was uttered, the aura around Abaddon shifted abruptly. Sharp, frenzied, and unnamable shrieks erupted from the mouths of Abaddon and the eight-headed demon. Chaos sorcery exploded outward, instantly tearing the roof off the tower and turning into a storm of unordered, chaotic destruction that ravaged the firmament and rippled through the Warp.
The underlying rules of the world itself were twisted by the incantation. Abaddon was the representative of the Chaos Astartes, the representative of Chaos itself. Under the distortion of this spell, it was decreed that Abaddon was all Chaos Astartes, and Abaddon was Chaos. In this moment, within this ritual, they were equivalent.
Thus, the ritual itself was completed in an instant.
Tzeentch screamed, protesting that this was completely illogical. Incantations are the power of sound, the clamor of the living, whereas the dead are silent. The girl was essentially still the Dark King, a deceased entity within the Warp; how could she wield the power of incantations? From where did her life originate?
Regardless of Tzeentch's incomprehension, the ritual was truly finished. Following Abaddon's death, the Chaos Astartes who had once belonged or were indirectly subordinate to him were scattered among the stars. Regardless of what his cause had achieved, he had indeed ensured that the vast majority of Chaos Astartes were nominally under his command. These warriors simultaneously experienced a hallucination: they saw a Chaos Star composed of eight-fold demons, hideous and distorted. And at the core of the Star—the point symbolizing the Warmaster, the point of Chaos itself—was the terrifying body of Abaddon.
"Praise his name."
"Praise the Machine God."
"Praise the Eternal Dragon."
"Praise... Praise..."
Abaddon's voice echoed in their ears.
A form of faith was produced out of thin air within their bodies—a faith in Saint Doraemon, in that dual-divinity existence. Yet, eerily, this faith did not praise the hybrid divinity of "Saint Doraemon," but rather pointed toward his mutually independent aspects: the Machine God and the Eternal Dragon.
The Chaos Astartes realized something was wrong. They tried to resist, but Chaos itself did not agree. Chaos is primal, violent, and frenzied, but it must never be considered unconscious. The Warp is a massive collective thought-form, though it often exists in a state of fragmentation, contradiction, and madness. The Warp has its own inclinations; it craves expansion, erosion of reality, and dissemination. This craving is Chaos.
Alexander occupied two realms of the Warp yet refused to submerge his will into the tides of Chaos. This was something Chaos could not allow. It wanted to drag Alexander in...
And the Chaos Astartes had been soaked in Chaos for too long. They had enjoyed its gifts for too long, leading many to the delusion that they had mastered Chaos.
"Praise."
The first Chaos Astartes could no longer hold out. He tore off his helmet, which had almost fused with his skin, and his mutated lips uttered the words of praise: "Praise the Machine God. Praise the Eternal Dragon."
Bang!!!
That Chaos Astartes exploded. Blood, flesh, bone, and nerves seemed to crave freedom; they pierced through his skin and power armor, scattering to form a blurry eight-pointed star pattern on the ground. He was a sacrifice offered to the Machine God and the Eternal Dragon.
Then, a second, a third... more and more Chaos Astartes could not suppress the impulse. They spoke the prayers of praise and exploded one after another, turning into patterns of blood and flesh. Unordered and frenzied faith began to surge from the Warp, rapidly gathering into a tide that expanded in all directions.
In the depths of the bunkers of the Fang, within a cage, Ahriman lay paralyzed in the Space Wolves' dungeon, leaning against Bjorn's leg. Ahriman had been released previously, as Roboute Guilliman claimed he had a use.
Great Wolf Logan Grimnar didn't actually mind if Ahriman escaped. On one hand, he understood Ahriman's current "united front" value; on the other hand, the bastard Ahriman had gotten old Bjorn drunk on his first day. The two of them had gone on a drunken rampage that nearly leveled half the Fang. Ahriman had even uprooted a snowy mountain on Fenris, claiming he wanted to perform a "throat-balancing mountain" trick for Bjorn.
However, there was an ancient grudge between Ahriman and the Space Wolves. Over the past ten thousand years, Ahriman generally hadn't caused much trouble for the Imperium... except for the Space Wolves. If Logan let him go too easily, it wouldn't sit well within his Chapter.
So Logan warned Ahriman: he was only being released on temporary parole at Guilliman's request; he was still a prisoner of the Space Wolves and had to return to the dungeon after the mission. "Whatever you do, don't run away!"
Logan thought that would be enough. If Ahriman ran, it would be Guilliman's fault. He could irresponsibly toss away this trouble who did nothing but make Fenrisian ale expensive.
Instead, Ahriman actually came back on his own, crawling back into the dungeon under Logan's bewildered gaze.
A vein throbbed on Logan's forehead as he watched Ahriman drink ale while using sorcery to pump the alcohol directly into Bjorn's veins. Initially, Bjorn had reacted with fury and hatred—their grudge was truly ten thousand years old. The moment Bjorn saw Ahriman, he attacked. Ahriman didn't dodge, letting Bjorn beat him until Bjorn asked what scheme he was playing at. Ahriman, with tears in his eyes, simply said to Bjorn: "I can't find my Primarch... I lost my father."
"I can't find Russ either..." Bjorn's movements stopped. He fell silent for a long time before speaking.
Logan rubbed his temples with a headache.
At that moment, Ahriman's body suddenly shuddered. Chaos... Chaos itself was calling... spreading along the oaths sworn to Abaddon. Some Thousand Sons warbands had also sworn fealty to Abaddon.
"GET OUT!!!!"
Ahriman smashed the jug in his hand, spilling ale everywhere. A sharp shriek erupted from his throat, and boundless ash drifted from his body. Intense psychic energy pierced through both reality and the Warp. Following the Rubric network, he seized the soul of every Thousand Son, forcibly controlling them and suppressing their urge to pray to the Machine God and the Eternal Dragon.
Simultaneously, the World Eaters also felt the call of Chaos and the impulse to pray. But Angron's final gift was still at work. When the call of Chaos arrived, the first thought of every World Eater was: Think about what the Great Regent Corax would do.
Facing the call of Chaos, Corax's lips trembled. The Butcher's Nails in his head twitched under the influence of the madness. But facing this scene, Corax...
He was afraid. Intense fear overwhelmed the Butcher's Nails and the call of Chaos. He huddled beside the command throne of the Conqueror, shivering and stammering, unable to even utter the words of prayer.
The World Eaters hesitated for a second, then they too huddled on the floor, curled into balls, shivering and stammering, unable to pray to the Machine God or the Eternal Dragon.
But aside from these exceptions, the vast majority of Chaos Astartes who had sworn to Abaddon spoke the praises. They exploded into stars of blood and flesh, becoming sacrifices and frenzied faith that surged and gathered.
This included the Word Bearers who had sworn fealty to Abaddon under Lorgar's orders. Lorgar watched in horror as his sons fell one by one beneath the tower.
"Adonai..." Lorgar called softly.
+Lorgar, death is an inevitability.+
+They are sacrificing themselves for faith; this is a death of value.+
The girl didn't even look at Lorgar. Her eyes were fixed on the blood-stained hammer thrown at her. She slowly raised her hand. The Chaos Star composed of Abaddon and the eight demons rose behind her like a twisted great wheel, rotating unordered in the air. Something unnamable, indescribable, and defying all laws surged from the Star. It was viscous like tar, foul-smelling like seawater, mixed with idiotic murmurs and eternal distortion.
The girl pointed a finger. Those unnamable things surged toward the bloodthirsty hammer of the Isstvan III campaign. In an instant, the memory of that war began to blur and become indescribable in the minds of the masses. Mysteries without answers surfaced out of thin air, burying the information of the battle in the deepest reaches of the unknowable. Consequently, the hammer born from that war of unknown name, unknown start, and unknown end naturally dissipated.
That was the power of the realm of Amorphous Distortion.
The Chaos Star is a rough metaphor; there are not merely eight realms in Chaos, but infinitely many that can constantly divide. The "Eight Realms" are simply the larger, more prominent ones that can roughly encompass the others. Their birth involves the aggregation of divided realms to a certain degree.
So even though seven of the eight domains were occupied, the girl could still use this ritual, the collective sacrifice of the Chaos Astartes, and the craving of Chaos to drown Alexander, to extract power from the smaller, unoccupied realms. However, the power in these realms was small, and her own "Erosion and Destruction" had been buried and confirmed as "Dead." The most powerful force the girl could utilize was the yet-to-be-born Amorphous Distortion.
She waved her arm again, and the faith of the dead Chaos Astartes surged toward Alexander's realm, toward the Tsukimidai district.
In the Nobita residence at Tsukimidai, Alexander—who was maintaining his "self" by keeping most of his consciousness asleep—rolled over in the closet. As if sleepwalking, he pulled a notebook from his pocket, his round hands flipping through the pages.
"So it's Case 12003—13... Response plan..."