Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor

Underground hall, hidden chamber.

The rumble of construction machinery echoed constantly.

"Praise the Savior—we must complete this before the deadline ends…"

A construction architect was directing workers in the building of a small chapel.

He was fully focused, constantly checking blueprints and inspecting the integrity of the structure.

This bold-styled architect was serving the great Savior for the first time—an incomparable honor. It would be the crowning achievement of his life.

Suddenly, he raised a hand and pointed to a faceless statue of a god. "It's not enough—break it down further! Remember our design principle: corruption through fragmentation and change!"

CLANG CLANG CLANG—

The workers brought down the statue at the designated position, smashing it until it collapsed in a blasphemous form.

"By the Emperor…"

The architect whispered a prayer as he gazed at the desecrated, twisted artistry.

He couldn't help but wonder—why would the great Savior construct such a ruinous chapel? Was it for some kind of "remembering past suffering to appreciate the present" lesson?

His own child at the Loyal Sons Academy had mentioned such emerging educational programs.

Supposedly, they were meant to correct degenerative habits across the Savior's territory.

The Academy even reopened sections of the Underhive, forcing even the most ordinary students to survive in polluted, Chaos-infested environments.

Rumors said some students were injured—or even died—during these survival courses.

"Thank the Emperor my kid made it out fine…"

The architect smiled faintly. His child had performed excellently and earned honors and badges.

After graduation, his child would enter a higher division and serve the Savior directly.

He tightened his protective mask and swapped out a disinfectant module. With plague rampant, everyone had to be cautious.

Any breach in protective gear had to be reported immediately.

"Damn heretic plague!"

He cursed and resumed directing the construction.

Soon, a broken, desecrated chapel was complete—its statues shattered and idols mutilated.

It had a disturbingly twisted atmosphere.

After completion, the architect didn't linger. He led his workers away, just as instructed.

They had to undergo prayer and baptism at the chapel—to ward off bad luck.

Fortunately, before they left, they received the blessing of the Savior himself.

That moment became the most unforgettable event of their lives—an unmatched honor.

Even the highest nobles on O'Neill could rarely receive such a grace. Ordinary folk were lucky just to catch a glimpse of that mighty being from afar.

"Not bad at all…"

Eden watched the tearful engineering team depart, then turned back to the newly constructed, ruin-like chapel that looked as if cultists had desecrated it.

This was the altar he had built to contact the Changer of Ways.

In the galaxy, praying to a Chaos God and drawing their attention wasn't so simple—and it was always a two-way street.

Using an altar and sacrificial ritual was one of the standard methods.

What followed was dangerous, well beyond what mortals could handle, lest they fall into madness or physical corruption.

"Savior, the requested items have arrived."

A high-ranking Inquisitor from the Daemon Inquisition stepped forward and saluted. More sealed containers were hauled in, some leaking the stench of blood.

Alongside them were a dozen Tzeentch cultists, restrained and escorted in.

Eden gave instructions:

"Begin the operation. Be extremely cautious. That being is cunning and dangerous."

The cultists had been prisoners of the Daemon Inquisition, now brought here to perform a ritual or construct an arcane formation.

It was part of Eden's governing principle: let professionals handle professional matters.

"The Changer of Ways will never forgive you!"

"You've wrongfully condemned the innocent! Knowledge is not a crime!"

"The Many-Eyed God of All-Knowing shall cast his gaze and plunge this place into madness!"

"Please… please let me go!"

The cultists were either raving or trembling, assuming execution awaited them.

But when they learned Eden's command—that they were to construct a dark altar to pray to Tzeentch—they froze in disbelief.

It sounded like the most ridiculous lie in the galaxy.

The Savior, the Primarch of Hope, asking them to pray to the Changer of Ways?

"How absurd…"

"This is your last chance."

Eden raised his hand, telekinetically lifting a crate's lid, revealing corpses, blood, blasphemous relics… and many, many eyeballs.

"If you won't do it, I'll find someone else who will."

Sensing Eden's certainty, the cultists quickly changed their minds.

They became fanatical, even thanking him.

Soon after, they defiled the chapel using the filthy offerings, scrawling forbidden runes and strange symbols on the walls, arranging the corpses and eyeballs in grotesque poses.

Still, they complained.

They said the sacrifices were too basic—not pious enough.

Eden ignored their grumbling and urged them to hurry.

Truthfully, the offerings were substandard. The human corpses and real blood were in short supply—mostly scavenged from cult hideouts.

Finding large cult nests in the Savior's realm was no longer easy.

Even if they existed, they'd quickly be purged and incinerated.

To meet the numbers, Eden had mixed in livestock, synthetic flesh, even watered-down blood.

Practically counterfeit.

But he couldn't just start butchering actual citizens for sacrifice.

"Sigh… it'll have to do. Times are tough on our end too…"

Eden sighed.

He'd already done more than enough to show respect to the Big Blue Bird.

And that creature wasn't doing so well lately. The plague had consumed most of the galaxy's attention, rendering its scheming feeble.

At this point, it should be grateful someone was sacrificing anything at all.

Soon, the altar was complete.

Runes and entrails formed complex eye-shaped patterns. The entire chapel radiated an eerie presence.

Whispers and murmurs filled the air.

"How glorious… the Changer of Ways is watching. What a blessing!"

The cultists were stunned.

They'd never once received such divine attention before—especially not from such a crude altar, without sacrificing hundreds of thousands of lives or committing vile acts.

And yet, they succeeded.

That used to be impossible.

Eden wasn't surprised.

The Big Blue Bird was desperate now—just shy of groveling for someone to make contact.

He turned to the nervous Transmutagenic Medicae beside him:

"Soon, I'll accompany you into that forbidden realm. Your task is simple: find the knowledge to produce the cure. Find the answer."

"Lord Savior, I will find it…"

The Medicae's synthetic voice trembled slightly. "In the name of the Emperor… and you, Savior. My faith has never wavered."

He sounded like he was reassuring himself.

As the cultists chanted and prayed, a faint blue light shimmered from the altar, and shifting illusions began to appear in the chamber.

At that moment, everyone's minds became crystal clear. Forgotten knowledge resurfaced.

More truths lingered behind the mists of Chaos, beckoning the curious forward.

Outside the chapel, within sealed quarantine bubbles—sight and sound blocked—high-ranking Inquisitors grew more alert.

They sensed the psychic upheaval and tightened their grips on their launchers.

Holy bone-dust rounds were loaded and ready.

At the first sign of disaster, they would obliterate this altar without hesitation.

"Omnissiah protect us… Emperor protect us…"

The Medicae stepped carefully onto the altar.

Suppressing his nausea, he prayed with the cultists—but received no reply.

He gulped and forced himself to shout out Eden's advice:

"G-Great Changer of Ways, surely you don't want the Savior's experiment to fail?

The Lord of Plagues has already—"

Before he could finish, Chaos energy surged violently.

A massive, illusory shadow descended.

A being of shifting form.

Its head and torso merged into one. Huge, indescribable tendrils writhed from where a head might be. Its flesh was covered in ever-morphing faces.

The Changer of Ways.

At that moment, everyone felt like countless eyes were watching them, seeing through their very souls.

The cultists couldn't endure it. Overwhelmed, they collapsed in fanatic fits, screaming as forbidden knowledge flooded in—until their skulls ruptured.

Fortunately, the Changer's malice wasn't focused on the Medicae. He suffered no real harm.

"Seeing your true face again…"

Eden looked up at the phantom form without fear.

Decades ago, his first glimpse of this horror nearly killed him.

Now, he could face it directly.

They were practically old acquaintances by now. After several encounters—like that one time the "roast big blue bird" incident—he was well past the fear.

At this point, the entity had lost its mystique.

Tzeentch seemed to sense Eden's casual attitude and sent out pulses of psychic thought, swiftly dragging the Medicae's soul-consciousness away.

Normally, Tzeentch would leave behind traps or tricks—sowing destruction and chaos.

But not this time.

This time, it didn't even care about the offering.

In fact, the sacrifice shouldn't have been enough to summon even a projection.

The Changer of Ways had essentially spent its own power to show up.

A total blood loss.

Afterward, one of Eden's psychic projections followed the path left behind by the Changer of Ways and arrived in the forbidden domain brimming with knowledge.

…

The Immaterium – The Crystal Labyrinth

Eden stepped onto the smooth, cobblestone-like surface of violet crystal.

In an instant, he felt the presence of statues in the mist, dreams, silent mourning, and fog-like paintings—all encompassed within a castle forged from crystal.

This castle shifted constantly, submerged within the tidal waves of madness and sanity.

He walked in confidently, into Tzeentch's realm.

After all, the Changer of Ways couldn't kill a psychic projection, and given the current situation, unless the god had completely lost its mind, it wouldn't dare harm him.

"Father Nurgle's hitting the jackpot, huh…"

Eden looked up into the warp and saw the domains of the other Chaos Gods. Among them, Nurgle's realm had grown the most—noticeably expanding again.

It had even begun encroaching upon the other domains.

Especially Tzeentch's.

A massive putrid tunnel had pierced through the back of the Crystal Labyrinth. It looked like Nurgle's filthy foot had literally stomped into Tzeentch's backyard.

And if things continued this way, once the Plague Wars won more ground…

Would the Lord of Plagues soon be defecating on Tzeentch's head?

Unacceptable.

Eden silently mused:

"If the Big Blue Bird doesn't start fighting back soon, he'll get ground into the dirt. And let's be honest—he's not even good in a fight…"

Suddenly, the Changer of Ways manifested again, floating above the labyrinth like it was waiting.

Eden gave a proper nobleman's greeting and sent a psychic message:

"Great Changer of Ways, the wretched plague has corrupted the Immaterium and shattered the galaxy's peace.

My researchers and I require more knowledge to resist the Plague.

I humbly request your assistance…"

Though his words were respectful—after all, he was asking a favor in the god's own realm—his tone wasn't exactly deferential. It was more like someone eating while standing: respectful, but not submissive.

Tzeentch didn't waste time or bother with useless words. Instead, it pulsed a stream of thought.

The being was willing to open its libraries and provide any knowledge needed—but the price was clear:

Eden must stop the spread of the plague in the galaxy as fast as possible.

Then, the Changer of Ways began to fade. It had more plans to set in motion.

Not to spread chaos this time—but to maintain order.

Because only a stable Imperium could withstand the plague.

Just before vanishing, Tzeentch received one more message from Eden—and its thoughts rippled in surprise.

Eden had suggested: "Tell the Regent a few truths. Drop the cryptic nonsense. Maybe try talking to Khorne for once."

Those were things Tzeentch was already about to do.

It was the first time someone had so precisely guessed its intentions—so much so that Tzeentch reevaluated Eden again.

He was becoming harder and harder to predict.

Tzeentch decided it would avoid using too many tricks in this cooperation. Too risky.

"That poor Big Blue Bird, worrying himself to death over the Imperium…"

Eden watched the god's fading form and sighed.

At the gates of the Crystal Labyrinth.

Eden found the Transmutagenic Medicae and led him into the castle.

The labyrinth's corridors manifested randomly, dissolving, splitting, and merging in a never-ending state of flux. Each hallway connected to different platforms.

On those platforms, he saw countless Tzeentchian cultists of every species imaginable.

These beings had come seeking knowledge—and lost themselves.

The crystal material was chaotic in nature. Its reflections and refractions created dizzying illusions. Anyone who stared into it would see mirrored truths and fantasies:

Terror, agony, hope, dreams, nightmares…

Histories real and imagined.

Events of the present and future.

Abstract concepts became vivid scenes within the crystal.

A sorcerer glimpsed the secrets he'd longed for and was overcome with ecstasy—only to transform into a mass of tentacled flesh.

A noble awakened from dreams of ruling a kingdom, fell into torment, and pledged to betray everyone he loved.

Time in the Crystal Labyrinth was subjective and unstable.

A few minutes here could equal centuries outside—or vice versa.

Some wanderers went decades without eating, drinking, or resting—eventually collapsing into mummified husks.

"This won't do…"

Eden frowned at the dried-out corpses that littered the crystalline corridors.

At this rate, finding the library was going to take too long. Time would be wasted.

Even though Tzeentch had agreed to help, he hadn't just handed over the knowledge. Was it spite? Or some obscure rule?

Meanwhile…

Eden sensed eyes—malicious, cunning.

The gaze of the Tzeentch Greater Daemons within the Labyrinth.

They were clearly unhappy with his intrusion. But none dared act.

These humanoid raven-like Fateweavers recognized Eden as a guest of their master. Some even remembered him from battles—perhaps with lingering trauma.

He could feel their fear.

"Is this how you treat honored guests? We're all here at the Changer of Ways' invitation…"

Eden patted the Medicae reassuringly, then boldly called out to the Fateweavers.

He radiated the previous promise of Tzeentch's cooperation, pointing to a cluster of daemons:

"You there—come here. If you're not qualified, go fetch someone who is."

His voice echoed across the maze, drawing attention.

But none of the daemons replied.

They didn't want to be the unlucky fool who guided the Savior—the Primarch of Hope.

Especially since many of them had been enemies before.

Helping him might draw the attention of other gods—or even their own master.

Tzeentch's followers were a paranoid bunch, always suspecting treachery.

Even with their god, they trusted no one. After all, Tzeentch was the king of betrayal.

Some remembered the poor daemon who once got scorched by a holy bone-dust round—ass-first—and panicked, flying off.

But Eden was faster. He grabbed one by the feathers:

"You'll do just fine."

The others sighed in relief. One scapegoat selected, they returned to their own business.

Some even began scheming against the chosen one.

"What's your name?"

Eden asked.

"Baru. Eighty-ninth Greater Daemon under the Changer of Ways."

Baru looked honest and answered truthfully—though there was a glint of strange recognition in his gaze.

He was one of Eden's plants, a Chaos spy Eden had embedded within Tzeentch's realm.

And now he was doing pretty well for himself.

"Then you'll guide me to the library."

Eden already knew Baru's true identity, but didn't react. Best not to blow his cover.

Tzeentch probably already knew—but allowed it to play out. Maybe even encouraged it.

Either way, it was always easier with your own people around.

Baru then respectfully led Eden and the Medicae deeper into the labyrinth.

To others, though, it looked like he just wanted to get this over with quickly.

They reached a sealed gateway guarded by a maze warden. Pilgrims lined up before it, each awaiting a test.

Only those who passed could enter the passage to infinite knowledge.

But Eden?

He skipped the line.

Baru took him through a VIP lane, pushing aside Tzeentch cultists with force.

It was like jumping the queue with a shady scalper—or sneaking in without a ticket.

Baru even convinced the gatekeeper to let them through directly.

"Guess backdoors are still the best option."

Eden smirked as he and the Medicae stepped into the path of divine knowledge—under the jealous, envious stares of the cultists.

Along the way…

Baru acted like a tour guide, enthusiastically explaining everything to please the Changer's esteemed guests.

He told them that pilgrims must pass through nine golden arches to reach the library.

Each arch had a talking mouth that would recite one of Tzeentch's 999 riddles.

Only by answering correctly could one proceed.

Otherwise, access was denied.

Before the first golden gate—

"What the hell is it saying?"

Eden stared at the massive face on the gate. It slowly recited a riddle of extreme complexity and profundity.

He didn't understand a single word.

Thousand Sons sorcerer Zaraphiston of the Black Legion and several other intellectual elites stood before the gate, pondering the answer.

This was the Changer's divine gift.

"Foolish wretches, daring to challenge the Gate of Wisdom?"

A voice mocked.

Turning, Zaraphiston was about to jeer—

But when he saw Eden, his expression froze:

"The Savior… Chaos Reaver?! What are you doing here?!"

This was the man who raided their base. Zaraphiston would recognize him even if he turned to ash.

(End of Chapter)

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