"...I presented my request to leave to the Prince of Pleasure, and guess what happened?"
The Six Circles of Slaanesh.
Endless curtains flowed through the field of vision like abstract paintings by a frenzied artist brought to life, twisting and regenerating at will within the chaotic light-fields of the Warp. Deep within the Sixth Circle, on a magnificent bed, a figure reclined languidly.
The Primarch of the Emperor's Children. The favorite of Slaanesh. The Daemon Primarch Fulgrim.
Lately, this daemon primarch, who was forever indulged in extreme pleasure, had been unable to find any excitement, his heart filled with a persistent gloom. After sensing that the strange curse he had left on Guilliman had been wiped clean by some influence, Fulgrim's interest had been piqued instantly. His original plan was to manifest in the material universe immediately to personally deal with the pathetic brother who had once faced him with a blade.
However, something strange occurred. Slaanesh had somehow decided to keep him restrained within the Six Circles, forcing him to perform day after day in endless dramas of revelry. After a feast of pleasure that felt nearly eternal, Fulgrim naturally pushed the memory of his brother in the material universe to the back of his mind.
And then? Then came the "Burning of the Garden" that shook the entire Warp. Fulgrim had certainly heard of it. The entire Warp was gossiping about the so-called "Second Cursed One," with daemon rumors even placing this new entity on par with the Emperor.
Ridiculous. Fulgrim sneered at the thought. The Prince of Pleasure was invincible. The domain of Slaanesh would never be stepped upon by any mortal feet, let alone defiled by some flame. However, he remained determined to confirm the truth of those rumors with his own eyes—not out of caution, but purely out of boredom. He had stayed in the Six Circles for too long and needed something fresh to kill the endless time. He had absolute confidence in himself and Slaanesh.
"How did the Prince of Pleasure reply to you?" Beside Fulgrim, a Keeper of Secrets approached with a giggle, pressing against his chest in an extremely intimate posture.
"Forbidden!" Fulgrim threw his longsword heavily to the side in anger. The blade sank into the ground, emitting a piercing hum. He lay back on the bed with a huff, his four arms spread out, his tone full of listless irritation.
This was a difficult conversation to follow. As Slaanesh's favorite, Fulgrim could vent his dissatisfaction without consequence. But if this nameless Keeper of Secrets joined in on critiquing the Prince of Pleasure's decision, she likely wouldn't last much longer in the Six Circles. The Keeper of Secrets lightly changed the subject, giggling as she began the next round of pleasure games. Fulgrim snorted but did not refuse. His attention was quickly pulled back into the eternal revelry, pushing all his troubles out of his mind.
Just then, a blue book was carefully brought in by another Slaaneshi daemon. Fulgrim looked confused for a moment before taking the book. Before he could ask anything, the book suddenly snapped open. A crimson figure was projected from it, casting its gaze toward him.
"Hello, my brother." Looking at the fallen and twisted figure, Magnus frowned, his tone carrying undisguised disgust. "It seems I've interrupted your 'good time'?"
"How interesting. When was the last time we spoke? I can hardly remember." Fulgrim was stunned for a second, then chuckled. His serpentine body coiled as he sat upright, four arms crossed over his chest. He leaned closer to the projection, a playful smile curving on his pale face. "My dear brother, why would you leave Tzeentch's Crystal Labyrinth to come to my place?"
"...Forget it, let's keep this brief." Looking at Fulgrim's twisted face, the long string of elegant and passionate opening lines Magnus had prepared got stuck in his throat. He gritted his teeth, suppressing the rising waves of disgust and disdain.
As arrogant as Magnus was, he truly could not stand to look. The brother who once pursued ultimate perfection—even polishing his swordsmanship to the finest detail—was now completely drowned in endless, cheap debauchery, nearly forgetting who he was.
But Magnus was different. Even though his personality had shattered into countless shards, and even though he had thrown himself into Tzeentch's embrace, his will remained clear. Those so-called prices were merely chips he traded for greater power. Power and will belonged only to him; he was not a slave to desire like the brother before him.
Magnus snorted and spoke concisely. "You should have sensed it too. The decaying empire built by that Tyrant is undergoing earth-shattering changes. There are even rumors that a Second Cursed One has been born, and his power is, in some ways, even more troublesome than our father's from ten thousand years ago."
"And so?" Fulgrim toyed with his claws nonchalantly.
"He is now capable of breaking into the domain of a Chaos Power and taking action. This is a scenario that hasn't appeared since the Great Game began." Magnus's voice rose sharply. "Furthermore, our ignorant brothers are returning one by one. The galaxy ahead will not be as peaceful as it has been for the past ten thousand years."
"Therefore, we must take action."
Fulgrim looked intrigued. "It sounds like you are already prepared?"
"Yes." Magnus admitted flatly, a meaningful curve touching his lips. "A perfect conspiracy has been woven. The poison I have chosen has already been delivered to the heart of the Empire. It won't be long before the most brilliant and noble of our brothers recognizes the Tyrant's true face and joins our side."
For real? You mean... Sanguinius? Fulgrim looked at the boastful, fast-talking Magnus, narrowing his eyes with suspicion. I don't believe it for a second. Based on his knowledge of Tzeentch, he judged instantly that this guy was definitely going to fail.
But what did that have to do with him? A follower of the Prince of Pleasure was happy to watch.
"Fine. What do you need me to do?" Fulgrim set down his wine glass, his tone carrying a hint of excitement.
"Simple. We will recreate the war from ten thousand years ago! Let the galaxy burn once again!" Magnus's tone became passionate, his single eye swirling with fanatical light. "In the eyes of that Tyrant, we are all stains on his life. He will certainly spare no effort to erase us—so we shall strike first!"
"What do you say? Do you agree? In a way, this war is only missing you."
Understanding the implication in Magnus's words, Fulgrim's brow furrowed slightly, much of his playfulness fading. "Where do you want to start? Cadia?"
"No, you guessed wrong." Magnus laughed, his smile carrying a sense of condescending superiority. "My prophecies tell me that Cadia is no longer the key to the coming conflict. That new entity, whatever it is, has long since realized the importance of Cadia. Attacking Cadia now is pointless."
He leaned forward slightly and spat out the name of the location, one word at a time.
"My target is—Pandorax."