Chapter 22: The Wheel of Fate
In the vast expanse of the Warhammer universe, a small planet named Barbarus floated silently. From the distant void of space, it appeared as a blurred yellow-green orb.
On this world, countless beings lived mundane lives. Born, struggling to survive, and then fading away without understanding the purpose of their existence. Yet, they clung to life, much like humans on countless other worlds.
Were the humans of Barbarus any better or worse than those on other planets? Regardless, centuries of existence had conditioned these beings, whose average lifespan was less than twenty solar years, to their way of life. Life was a cycle, and they revolved around it, with inertia being their guiding principle.
They were like silent livestock, their voices corroded by the toxic mists, laboring on the barren lands of Barbarus, living under eternal oppression and fear. Perhaps, at some point in history, one among them had risen against this tyranny, wielding a blade against the oppressor. But, undoubtedly, he had failed.
The beings who sought change had long perished, and the history of the planet's inhabitants continued its predetermined path. The planet silently orbited its star, with the gods of fate remaining silent and inactive.
Until the arrival of a pod from the heavens.
Until the Lord of Death descended from the mountains shrouded in perpetual toxic mists.
The gears of fate, stagnant for millennia, began to turn once more, set into motion by the will of the supreme deity. The rusted cogs began to interlock, and the ash-covered machinery started to operate.
The protagonist was a distinguished guest from beyond the stars, while the supporting cast were the slaves who had played the same roles for centuries.
The deity gleefully brewed its magnificent concoction, with everything in place.
Seven meticulous preparations, seven heartfelt blessings, seven ingredients simmered, seven centuries of anticipation.
Seven-fold blessings, seven-fold curses, seven strands of fate. The soup was intoxicating.
All was decay, yet life persisted.
The benevolent father had prepared everything for his beloved son, watching over his unique child. In the father's eternal and magnificent garden, a place had been reserved for his favored one.
Atop the most fertile and captivating soil in the garden, where one could easily see from the mansion's window, the most delightful and comfortable meadow awaited. Here, diligent flies tirelessly licked at festering wounds, and adorable bees donated their lovely nectar. The ground was soft, made of decaying flesh, and the air was filled with the songs of the Nurglings, praising the grandfather's benevolence.
Such a warm family! Every member eagerly prepared for the arrival of the child. When he arrived, countless grotesque beings would emerge at the father's command, and the child's favorite dwelling would be presented to him.
That child, who had yet to embrace the father's love, would surely adore this place and praise everything.
Oh, what a great father! What a magnificent father!
All beings in the garden smiled at the thought of the arriving favored one. Such a fortunate child! They whispered blessings in their hearts.
However.
However.
However.
An uninvited guest had sneaked onto the stage.
A distant observer had applauded before the benevolent father.
The father, engrossed in brewing the soup of fate, had overlooked these minute changes, allowing them to accumulate.
He had been negligent.
Changes outside and within fate converged upon him. The former was too subtle, the latter too entangling.
No! His child would be his! Mortarion, his favored one! They could not take him away!
The father gestured to drive away the distant intruder, while the Nurglings hurriedly added ingredients to the pot.
The father muttered, addressing his old adversary, once again diverting his attention.
The outsiders seized this momentary lapse in the father's gaze.
The Lord of Change shrieked, signaling the end of the repetitive script that everyone had seen countless times.
Change, change, change, the inscrutable changes from beyond the world!
Nine revolutions, nine upheavals, nine jests, the threads of fate continued endlessly!
Abandon the mesmerizing past, present, and future!
Change was the reward, change was the goal, the mystery of change within change was infinite. All things followed rules, and rules were but constraints!
He saw these wondrous changes, the chaotic time of the warp revealing endless transformations, the mysteries beyond the world itself.
His ecstatic shrieks pierced everything, and the labyrinth of endless change began its dance once more. Those trapped within began their endless escape.
Breaking rules, manipulating fate, teasing the world.
[Emperor's Dream]
"Lord, there's an Omega-level distortion in the nearby warp. In six solar months, warp travel will become difficult."
"Except for a specific direction in the warp, which remains stable."
+This is an invitation, a clear sign+
+This is a transaction+
Golden eyes, filled with the wisdom of humanity since ancient times, shone brilliantly.
Warning:
The following sections are intense!
Readers who can't handle it should skip to Chapter 29. Do not read the next few sections!!!
Those who enjoy intense narratives can proceed.
Believe in the benevolent father, achieve eternity!!!
Look at this author, not only does he believe in Nurglings but also in terror and intrigue.
But we don't like the perverse.
I'll be honest, I'm a Chaos fan. (Of course, the protagonist is from the Imperium.)