This is the bonus chapter for reaching 300 Powerstones.
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On the bridge of the Tear of the Diasporex.
Fulgrim stood in the doorway, drenched in gore. The tip of the Blade of the Laer still dripped with toxic green xenos blood.
His normally flawless face was a completely expressionless mask.
But his eyes...
Those violet eyes were locked in a death stare, completely fixated on the purple and gold figure standing dead center on the bridge.
Fixated on Demeter.
Fixated on his own son—the one who had beaten him to the punch and severed the Diasporex Alliance captain's head before he could.
A dead, suffocating silence fell over the bridge.
Meanwhile, about three hundred meters away around a corridor bend, over eight hundred figures stood frozen in place.
[All According to Plan] Lance stared at the pitch-black quest panel hovering in front of him, feeling physically sick.
The bold text that had previously glowed with a dark, ominous light—[Faction Quest: Fall of the Diasporex]—had completely grayed out.
In its place sat a few lines of cold, gray text...
[Quest Status: Failed]
[First Blood Honor: Solomon Demeter (Emperor's Children 2nd Company)]
[Your Faction Contribution: 0]
[Quest Reward: None]
"..."
Lance's mouth twitched.
He looked up at that purple and gold silhouette in the middle of the bridge, then glanced at the real-time clock on the holographic star map.
"Demeter..."
His voice came out raspy, dripping with absolute disbelief.
"Did you fucking use a speed hack?"
[Regional Channel (Wings of Freedom)]
[Konnichiwa Slaanesh-chan]: "???"
[SnoozeButtonHero]: "Wait, the quest failed??"
[LetTheGalaxyBurn]: "I blew over eight hundred thousand Imperial Coins! Eight hundred grand! And you're telling me we failed??"
[Number One Handsome of the Soul Hall]: "I... I can't even do my evil villain laugh right now. Goddammit."
[Death Guard Did Nothing Wrong]: "Seriously though, how the hell is Demeter so fast? We speedran this whole section without even stopping to breathe, and he's already done chopping heads?"
Over eight hundred pairs of eyes shifted to Lance.
Lance took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
He began mentally replaying the entire operation in his head.
From the exact moment he made the call to attack the Iron Hands, everything had gone just a little too smoothly.
Gabriel Santar and Karon Santos, those two Iron Hands Captains, were almost wiped out entirely during their ambush.
Then Vespasian and Tarvitz—the resident loyalist boy scouts—inexplicably doubled back to protect the Iron Hands, pulling a chunk of the Emperor's Children away and giving up the chase.
Meanwhile, Demeter's 2nd Company somehow managed to waltz right through an entirely unguarded route, arriving at the bridge ahead of schedule.
A flawless chain of cause and effect.
Every single piece falling perfectly into place.
Every step timed down to the microsecond.
Every step feeling entirely, deliberately orchestrated.
Lance opened his eyes.
A sharp gleam flashed in his pupils.
He remembered that faint, fleeting whisper he had heard in his head just moments before.
The very voice that had convinced him to change his mind and target the Iron Hands in the first place.
Where the hell did that come from?
Lance wasn't an idiot.
He had spent years playing grand strategy games; he'd seen every dirty trick and backroom deal in the book.
Embezzling guild funds or bribing rival guild leaders in real life? That was child's play.
Back when he was a vice-guildmaster, a whale sponsor had dumped a hundred grand in his lap for the team. He'd pocketed the lot and tipped the grunt workers literal pennies.
Try to out-scumbag him? Good luck.
But what happened today was completely abnormal.
So abnormal that there was no way someone wasn't pulling the strings behind the scenes.
"It wasn't Khorne," he muttered to himself. "That blood-crazed meathead only knows how to unga-bunga and kill things. He doesn't have the brain cells for this kind of subtle manipulation."
"Not Slaanesh either. That freak is too busy chasing the next high to have this kind of patience."
"Nurgle? He just rots in his garden breeding flies all day. Zero chance."
He tapped his fingers lightly against his knee.
"As for Vashtorr? Our little wannabe god? No way. He's still busy messing with his own side hustles, trying to claw his way up to godhood."
"The Emperor? Even less likely. That sneaky old bastard is holed up in the Imperial Palace right now, nerding out over the Webway. He hasn't been marinating in ten thousand years of pure faith juice yet, and he hasn't become the Dark King. He doesn't have the juice to manifest like a god yet."
Lance's mouth twitched again.
"Which only leaves one..."
His gaze drifted down the corridor, piercing right through the bridge doors as if he were staring at something impossibly far away.
"Tzeentch."
"The Changer of the Ways."
"The Architect of Fate."
"The absolute king of backstabbing his own teammates."
[Konnichiwa Slaanesh-chan] leaned in, dropping their voice to a whisper.
"Lance, bro... are you saying we got sold out?"
Lance stayed quiet for two seconds.
Then he spoke slowly, practically grinding his teeth on every word.
"What else would you call it? You tell me—how the hell did Demeter just waltz through that corridor? Why did Vespasian and Tarvitz coincidentally decide to siphon off Emperor's Children troops just to play bodyguard for the Iron Hands? And why did Fulgrim waste so much time chasing after us instead of rushing the bridge?"
He paused, his tone growing heavy.
"We thought we were teeing up the kill for Fulgrim. And what happened? We cleared the road for Demeter. We did all the dirty work for that backstabbing god to get the exact ending he wanted."
[Konnichiwa Slaanesh-chan] blanked. "Huh? What do you mean?"
[LetTheGalaxyBurn] was the first to connect the dots. "Are you saying... that the voice that made you flip targets to the Iron Hands... was Tzeentch?"
[Number One Handsome of the Soul Hall]: "Fuck... seriously? But we're literally in the Chaos Faction! Why would he grief his own team?"
[LetTheGalaxyBurn] scratched his head.
"I mean... doesn't Tzeentch like change? Shouldn't he be helping us win?"
Lance gave him a look—a tired, exasperated look that screamed you're still way too naive.
"Oh, he likes change, alright. But you know what he likes even more?"
He paused, dragging out his next words.
"Doing it for the lulz."
"Fulgrim arrives at the bridge one step too late, forced to watch his own son steal the glory that was meant to be his. That humiliation, that frustration, the sheer imperfection of it all... it's enough to make the whispers in that daemon sword three times louder. Enough to drive a tiny wedge between Fulgrim and Ferrus. And more than enough to make Demeter a permanent thorn in the Phoenician's side."
Lance's eyes darkened.
"We thought we were just playing the game. We thought we were using him. But he was playing us. He used us. That's the Changer of the Ways for you. All according to plan."
All eight hundred players went dead silent at once.
[Konnichiwa Slaanesh-chan] spoke up, their voice hollow.
"So... we were just pawns? And we literally volunteered for it?"
Lance nodded.
"Pretty much."
[SnoozeButtonHero] looked completely bewildered.
"But we're the Chaos Faction! We're literally doing Chaos's dirty work! Why would he grief his own guys?"
"His own guys?"
Lance's voice echoed through the channel, dripping with biting sarcasm.
"Do you really think the Big Four even have a concept of 'friendly fire'? We're just pieces on their board. We're tools. Expendable trash. Whether a pawn lives or dies doesn't matter to them in the slightest. As long as the game is entertaining, as long as the memes are spicy enough... as long as they get what they want in the end, they don't give a shit about collateral damage."
"This time, he wanted to make Fulgrim resent Ferrus just a little bit more. He wanted to deepen the cracks. He wanted Demeter to steal the flagship honors. And we were the perfect catalyst to make that happen."
"As for how many Imperial Coins we burned or how many times we died... you really think he gives a damn?"
The eight hundred players fell into silence once more.
[Number One Handsome of the Soul Hall] let out a weak attempt at an evil cackle, but all the usual smugness was completely gone.
Only bitter self-mockery remained.
"So what you're saying is... we just got farmed for free by the Big Blue Bird?"
Lance nodded.
"Farmed for free. And we basically handed it to him on a silver platter and said 'thank you'."
[Death Guard Did Nothing Wrong] looked like he was suffering from chronic constipation.
"Yeah, he can take that 'thank you' and shove it right up his feathered ass."
[SnoozeButtonHero] spoke up, his voice hollow.
"Fuck... what kind of game actually lets an evil god grief the players?"
[LetTheGalaxyBurn]: "All I can say is this game is just way too fucking realistic."
[Konnichiwa Slaanesh-chan]: "But I'm so pissed!"
"We spent so many Imperial Coins!"
"We died so many times!"
"And we get backstabbed by that idiot?!"
"I used to think the Blue Bird was kind of cute, but looking at it now, he's just a total troll."
Lance took a deep breath, trying his hardest to calm down.
He typed into the channel:
"Alright, enough complaining."
"We lost, deal with it."
"Just learn from this. From now on, if I start acting weird or make a call that completely goes against our faction's interests, you don't have to listen to my orders."
"Hell, you can shoot me on the spot..."
"I won't even complain."
"This dog-shit game actually let Tzeentch play me like a damn fiddle."
[Regional Channel (Wings of Freedom)]:
The Chaos players: "..."
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