The Empyrean, the Crystal Labyrinth.
In the deepest reaches of Tzeentch's domain. The Changer of Ways was currently watching this sudden battle of gods through ten million prisms.
Blue-purple fog drifted lazily across His throne, and three pairs of eyes formed from pure knowledge blinked gleefully in the depths of the mist.
"They're fighting... they're fighting..." Tzeentch's voice was like ten million conspiracies whispering simultaneously. "The affectionate neighbor... the furious scholar... What a beautiful change... what an amusing play..."
--
Within the images of the prisms.
Inside Veritas's domain, billions of forms of energy began to undergo frantic conversion.
Flames converted to frost, frost converted to lightning, lightning converted to earth, and earth converted to water.
Every conversion was completed in an instant, and the resulting energy intensity increased exponentially.
This was the ultimate manifestation of the Conversion authority. It wasn't simply changing the form of the energy, but fundamentally rewriting the underlying rules of its nature.
The instant Nurgle's rotting giant hand made contact with these converted energies, it finally sustained substantial damage.
The alternating bombardment of flame and frost caused large patches of the decaying skin to carbonize and then shatter from freezing.
The compound impact of lightning and earth blasted away clusters of pustules.
The water seeped into the festering wounds, triggering internal energy disruptions.
"Ah..." Nurgle let out a sigh of pure enjoyment.
It was as if He weren't being attacked at all, but rather receiving a massage.
"Not a bad amount of force... my dear neighbor..."
The Lord of Plagues' other hand rose as well.
That hand grasped a bone staff—a profane construct pieced together from the spines of countless plague victims.
The bone staff lightly tapped against the void.
Squelch...
Centered on the point of impact, a yellow-green domain of rot rippled outward.
Wherever this domain passed, the very emptiness of the Empyrean began to fester. Pustules grew, pus oozed, and reality itself began to rot.
This was the manifestation of the Plague authority. It was a conceptual infection—dragging order into chaos, twisting purity into filth, and forcing all that was vibrant into decay.
The moment Veritas's converted energies made contact with the domain of rot, they underwent a terrifying mutation.
Flames halfway through their conversion abruptly turned into writhing clusters of fungi.
Frost condensed into shape, only for its surface to sprout weeping sores.
Lightning struck, but its trajectory warped into the crawling path of maggots.
Colossal hammers of earth smashed down, weathering into plague dust in mid-air.
"Rules... can fall ill as well..." Nurgle said affectionately. "Order... will ultimately rot... This is... the truth of life..."
Veritas's elderly phantom began to tremble with rage. "You understand... absolutely nothing!!!"
The elderly figure slammed His staff into the ground once more, and the entire domain began to contract and condense.
All the energy, structures, and rules surged toward the tip of the staff.
"I, Veritas, am the Core of Conversion! The Source of Omni-Energy! You wish to see true conversion?! Then I shall show you!!!"
At the tip of the staff, a point of pure white light ignited.
The light possessed no attributes and contained no energy fluctuations whatsoever.
It was 'Nothingness'—the manifestation of the authority to convert all energy, matter, and concepts back into their most primordial essence of 'Null.'
This was Veritas's ultimate trump card. Condensing one-tenth of His domain's essence into a single strike. The price was severe injuries that would force Him into a slumber of tens of thousands of years, but its power was enough to heavily wound a god of the same tier.
"Return... to Null...!!!"
The white light shot forward. It was incredibly slow, tranquil, and completely void.
Wherever it passed, the domain of rot melted away like snow, and the Plague authority was forcefully converted into nothingness.
The pustules, maggots, and ulcerated skin on Nurgle's rotting giant hand vanished and purified in large swaths, completely erased on an existential level.
The affectionate smile on Nurgle's face finally receded. The Lord of Plagues narrowed His eyes simultaneously.
"Getting serious... are we..."
He released His grip on the domain's shell, gripped His bone staff with both hands, and raised it high above His head.
All the Nurglings, plague flies, pus, and rotting entrails surrounding Him surged toward the head of the staff.
A yellow-green light erupted like a supernova.
"Then... I shall play with you... The final form of life... is a tranquil rot... I bestow upon you... eternal tranquility..."
The yellow-green light and the pure white light collided in the void of the Empyrean.
The clash between the authorities of two gods emitted no sound whatsoever, nor did it produce any sort of shockwave. It presented an eerie, absolute silence.
Centered on the point of collision, all concepts, emotions, and causality within a radius of tens of thousands of Warp units fell into complete stagnation.
--
Within the Crystal Labyrinth, all of Tzeentch's eyes widened simultaneously.
"Oh... playing for real..." The Changer of Ways' voice carried distinct excitement. "Fight... yes, fight..."
The prism images began to fluctuate violently, ultimately shattering with a sharp crack. The power of the authorities at the point of collision was so intense that even Tzeentch's observation was disrupted.
"..." A twisted smile emerged from within the blue-purple mist. "It doesn't matter... Everything... is proceeding according to plan..."
--
Back at the point of collision in the Empyrean.
The deadlock between the pure white light and the yellow-green light lasted for a short while.
Then, the pure white light began to dim.
Veritas's elderly phantom started to turn transparent.
"Cough... I... shall remember this..." Veritas's consciousness locked dead onto Nurgle. "The humiliation of today... I will undoubtedly repay in the future... And as for the scum who framed me... I will find you... and I will convert you into a puddle of the most rudimentary psychic dust..."
The moment His words faded, Veritas's domain self-destructed.
He detonated the outer one-third of His territory, along with a portion of the knowledge and energy structures stored within.
BOOM!!!
The explosion of authority unleashed a tsunami across the Empyrean.
Nurgle was forced half a step back by the blast's impact. For a Chaos God of His magnitude, being pushed back even half a step represented a terrifying amount of damage.
Meanwhile, Veritas's core domain used the shockwave of the explosion to tear through the Empyrean's structure, fleeing into the deepest dimensions of the Warp.
Veritas had fled. Bearing grievous injuries, blistering fury, and a monstrous, towering hatred for Nurgle and His unknown framer, He fled.
Nurgle remained standing in place, His rotting giant hand gently stroking His chest, where a small chunk of flesh and skin had been blown away by the explosion.
The wound was healing at a visible rate, newborn granulation tissue wriggling like maggots.
The Lord of Plagues did not pursue.
Because there was no need.
Veritas was already heavily wounded, and His domain severely damaged. It would take tens of thousands of years for Him to recover.
Moreover...
Nurgle raised His other hand, His palm holding the light sphere He had forcibly intercepted during the explosion.
Inside the sphere, the Warp essence of the Great Unclean One was safe and sound.
As for the other magical items and the Hope authority crystals, they had all been destroyed in the blast.
But this was enough. Veritas was, after all, a lesser deity second only to the tier of the Four Chaos Gods. Teaching Him a lesson was sufficient. To actually kill and devour Him would require full and absolute preparation.
Nurgle's eyes looked in the direction Veritas had fled, then turned toward the coordinates of Aurelian IV in the material universe.
"That little girl... that energy... You will appear again..."
The Lord of Plagues smiled affectionately, turned around, and with bloated, plodding steps, slowly walked back toward His own domain.
He hummed a little tune as He walked.
"Disobedient children must be spanked... only when spanked will they know pain... only when they know pain will they remember..."
This battle of gods in the Warp thus came to a close.
Everyone was happy...
Nurgle reclaimed His child's essence but made a fairly powerful enemy.
Veritas took the blame, suffered severe damage to His domain, and fled with grievous injuries. Now, His head was entirely filled with thoughts of finding the scum who framed Him and converting them into a pile of shit.
Tzeentch enjoyed a good show, confirmed that the variables wouldn't affect their future plans, and was thoroughly satisfied.
And as for the true mastermind behind the scenes...
--
Lucian Sanctus lay on his luxurious bed, his legs crossed, humming a little tune as he watched his emotional energy income soar.
"Hehehe, fight, fight. The Little Blue Bird and Grandfather's attention have both been drawn away. Once the Crimson Dawn takes over the entirety of Aurelian IV, I can shield that sub-sector on both the Warp and material universe levels. That way, I can develop in peace."
Lucian thought of the operation he had long since mapped out in his mind.
"When the time comes... it'll be time to issue the version update announcement to the players. The war on Aurelian IV has ended, but the final chapter of the Great Crusade... the Horus Heresy... hasn't even begun yet. Loyal Imperial warriors of Earth, are you ready... to fight for your loyalty to the Emperor?"
--
Goal = 300 Powerstones.
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