You are gradually wrapped in disgusting, sticky, slippery tentacles. You cannot control any part of your body. Even your eyelids refuse to close.
You can only watch helplessly as nine cultists lift you high into the air.
You move slowly toward the center of the city, like a sacrifice being served on the Chaos table.
You try to turn your eyes away, but then you find sadly that there seems to be no human left in the entire city who could save you.
The ruined streets are filled with dead Krieg soldiers and local defenders. Burning Leman Russ tanks smolder. Thunderhawk gunboats have crashed to the ground, their hulls broken and scorched. You even see a half-kneeling Terminator in power armor completely submerged by countless cultist corpses. Even such a powerful Astartes has fallen...
The Imperium's resistance and counterattack have failed.
You gradually wake to despair. The planet before you seems to have been completely occupied by Chaos forces, transformed into a fallen death world.
Every nine meters forward, a cultist in purple robes emerges from the dark corners of the city. Each one carries a bloody corpse sacrifice of a mortal and joins this grand parade carnival with twisted joy.
They are praising. They are praying. They are calling.
You want to roar. You want to scream curses. But you are powerless.
Your grief overwhelms you. Your mental state seems to be fracturing.
A faint murmur begins to appear in your ears.
As the cultists continue their advance, even the sky gradually fills with a terrifying purple halo. The air becomes thick with disgusting Chaos breath and bloody stench. Priests of the sect, holding staffs and chanting prayers beneath their hoods, join the parade as well.
A large number of mortal corpses, regardless of gender or age, are pulled upward by wisps of purple light. There are even some living people among them, wailing and struggling uselessly.
Your eyes are bloodshot. Your head spins with dizziness.
You stubbornly resist the corruption of Chaos. You remain loyal.
In your dazed state, you begin to pray to the Emperor sincerely, begging for His mercy...
The grand sacrificial procession reaches its end. A dazzling purple halo reflects above the sky. The buildings in the center of the city are covered with layers of sticky, foul-smelling mortal flesh.
A massive flesh pedestal, watered with the blood of hundreds of millions of mortals, stands tall in the city's center. Above the pedestal, a Chaos portal several hundred meters high nearly splits the sky in half. It's reflected in your drowsy, blurred vision.
Countless Pink and Blue Horrors jump and dance around the flesh pedestal. They are chirping. They are singing. They are repeating spells with unknown effects.
Under the protection of countless Chaos minions, a huge two-headed bird-daemon with black wings on its back and wearing white robes observes you. Both bird heads regard you with interest as you're held high by the cultists.
"Oh, poor but lucky mortal..." One of the two-headed bird-daemon's long beaks collides with the other, making a series of terrifying low sounds. The other long beak immediately exclaims, "My Lord's blessing... Is it him?"
You are handed beneath the two-headed bird-daemon by the crazed cultists.
One by one, Pink Horrors clamber onto your back, attempting to support your body and force you to face the even more terrifying scene before you.
The two-headed bird-daemon flaps its huge wings several times. The two bird heads sway back and forth as it strolls before you.
One bird head calls itself Kairos, the "Fate Weaver," the Lord of Change. The other bird head sneers in a low voice... Just hearing the restrained whisper of the two-headed bird-daemon causes your brain to scream wildly. Your mental will feels ready to collapse.
You are forced to keep your eyes open. Tears of blood flow freely. For a moment, you are living a fate worse than death. You keep praying to the Emperor...
Kairos, the "Fate Weaver," seems to see through your desperate thoughts. One bird head keeps mocking, saying the carrion-lord who plays with witchcraft will not come, because this world is blessed by the Lord God. The other bird head makes tempting offers with honeyed words.
Your coming and disappearing have attracted the attention of a Chaos God. Even if the carrion-lord who plays with witchcraft tries hard to hide your traces, you were lucky enough to appear in Chaos territory.
As long as you nod and agree, you will receive everything you desire...
Power, knowledge, wealth, and everything that exists in the universe.
If you join Chaos voluntarily, you will be promoted to "Daemon Prince" by the Chaos God. You won't have to endure the troubles of life and death, nor worry about the hostility of the carrion-lord... One of Kairos's bird heads persuades you step by step.
"Thinking long, wanting knowledge, knowing much, thirsting for thought. Only the sages and the strange are not trapped." The other bird head twists and shakes, making harsh praise.
It seems Kairos's praise attracts the attention of the Chaos God. The huge Chaos portal in your vision keeps shaking and twisting. The purple halo completely envelops the planet. Countless Chaos daemons bow their heads and kneel beneath the flesh-and-blood pedestal.
Even "Fate Weaver" Kairos spreads its huge wings, facing the direction of the portal. Both bird heads slowly droop in reverence.
The whispers lingering in your ears become more terrifying. Your eyeballs seem to have reached their limit. They shatter and explode...
But just as you fall into darkness, you seem to have seen through the purple halo of the Chaos Portal...
An illusory white serpent that twists and writhes continuously in place.
A neckless blue lamp-daemon. Every inch of its skin is covered with faces bearing different expressions. Each face repeats the words spoken by the master's head in a different tone.
A ball of colorful mist that makes no sound itself but mutters through the echoes between nearby buildings.
A green-skinned figure in an old gray suit, with an indescribable purple halo floating where its face should be...
Your thinking seems to have stagnated.
In your mind, there is only one unrecognizable but deeply engraved terrifying word that echoes repeatedly.
Throw yourself into Chaos...
Embrace His blessing and become a daemon prince who dominates the universe...
More terrifying whispers penetrate your mind thoroughly.
Your spirit is about to collapse. Chaos is about to corrupt your will.
You are on the verge of death...
You seem to see a flickering flame in the endless darkness with your blurred consciousness.
That is your shaky life-flame. Your loyal heart.
Suddenly, an illusory palm appears near the flame, blocking the surrounding darkness for the wavering light.
You look desperately and find it is a Catachan veteran who once fought beside you. He stands silently next to the flame and smiles at you.
At the same time, another illusory palm is placed beside the flame. It is the Krieg Watch Captain who died at your side, who wears a breathing mask and says nothing, simply raises a thumb toward you.
One after another, phantom hands are placed near the flame, shielding you from the darkness.
You suddenly discover that the owners of the phantom hands are mortals who died on the planets occupied by Chaos. Krieg soldiers and native defenders who died in battle. Astartes who died of exhaustion after offering their loyalty.
They say nothing, but silently guard the flame while staring at you and smiling.
You have never fought alone... You fight for them. For all humanity.
"Tzeentch... Get out of my head!"
You suddenly murmur with splitting headache, on the verge of death. Your voice gradually grows louder.
"FOR THE EMPEROR!"