Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor

Macragge's Honour.

Amidst blinding red light, the lift descended to its deepest level.

The Regent and Felix arrived in a chamber made entirely of iron, stained with dried blood.

It was an interrogation chamber.

A place for handling extremely dangerous entities. The walls were carved with runes, and scattered silver rings were nailed into the ground.

"Do you think he'll come?"

As the hatch boomed shut, the Regent asked.

Felix looked doubtful. "My lord, this is rather far-fetched… we're dealing with the greatest liar in the galaxy."

"I trust my brother."

Roboute Guilliman spoke with a faint smile.

"My Lord Guilliman, everything is ready…"

Their ally, the Aeldari Farseer Nathas, approached.

He glanced at the surrounding Grey Knights and Primaris Marines. "The strands of fate have been read, though the crude minds around us make it difficult.

But all proceeds as planned. You may interrogate the daemon."

With the clatter of chains, the daemon prisoner and its guards came into view.

The prisoner was trapped within a stasis field where time did not exist. Its skin was a sickly pink, skull twisted with horn-like growths, mouth full of fangs.

Most grotesque of all were its yellow eyes, with two compound pupils swirling beneath each iris, heralding infinite change.

Nathas hesitated. "My lord, the daemon bound within this man is a fragment of a Lord of Change. There is never truth in its words, even when it speaks truth."

"It will answer… it has no choice."

Guilliman seemed to have received certain information, speaking with certainty. "That bastard must tell the truth if it wants to salvage anything."

That learned brother of his had told him many things.

Giving him deeper understanding of the Warp and galactic affairs, and greater confidence in this plague war against his fallen brother.

The daemon prisoner saw Guilliman and began to laugh.

"That man has been devoured by me, become a part of me, a part of the Changer of Ways. There is no salvation left, just like before."

The prisoner continued, "He is beyond saving… and so are you, my little mortal lord…"

"Begin."

Guilliman ignored its words, unwilling to waste time arguing with a daemon.

The runes on the Grey Knight's armour blazed as he chanted incantations in ancient Gothic, including the daemon's True Name.

Upon hearing its name, the daemon convulsed in agony, thrashing and pounding against its cage.

"No, curse you, son of the Accursed!"

But the chanting grew louder, drowning out the daemon's roars, filling the entire chamber with its tortured howls.

Terrifying warp energies thickened, causing some weaker Librarians among the Space Marines to collapse, quickly carried away by others.

Suddenly, the psychic struggle ceased.

The daemon prisoner froze in a twisted posture, black tears streaming from its eyes:

"Ask then, child of the Accursed, nine questions may be answered, as is fitting for the sacred number nine."

"He's here."

Guilliman pulled out a faint smile.

It was just as the Savior's prophecy had said.

The Regent had long prepared for this, stepping forward to ask:

"Where is Mortarion?"

Within the daemon prisoner's mind, Tzeentch's will suppressed its desire to lie, bound by an unbreakable oath to speak truth.

He knew what Guilliman would ask, and would give the correct answers, to guide the war's direction.

All was within the plan.

The Changer of Ways' will spoke the truth. "Soon, he shall await you at Axus. Eight questions remain."

"What is his plan?"

"To kill you. Seven questions remain."

"How?"

"By using disease, to honour the Plague Lord, master of seven and three. Six remain."

"It matches."

Guilliman glanced at his parchment notes, exchanging a look with Felix, faces brightening.

The Lord of Change's answers aligned perfectly with the predictions of his brother – every single one.

Guilliman slowly raised his head, casting a mysterious smile toward the daemon prisoner alongside Felix and the others.

???

The Changer of Ways' will sensed something was wrong. Things were slipping from its control.

It felt as if it were being mocked and put on display.

"Will my brother Lion awaken?"

Guilliman suddenly asked a question unrelated to the current war. Since his brother had already predicted matters of the Plague War…

He might as well ask about things closer to his heart.

"Yes… yes. Soon. Four questions remain."

Tzeentch's will faltered, forced to answer.

Guilliman took a deep breath and asked about another lost brother. "Where is Rogal Dorn now?"

"The W… Warp! Four remain!"

This answer filled the Regent with joy – Dorn was still alive.

"No, how could you ask that?!"

The Changer of Ways' will panicked. Control was utterly lost. It wanted to end or destroy this contract.

Guilliman pondered how best to use his remaining questions.

There was still so much he wished to know.

Soon, the Regent asked, "How can Sanguinius be resurrected?"

Tzeentch's will hesitated between answering or forcibly destroying the pact.

Given that resurrecting Sanguinius required impossibly difficult conditions…

It decided to give a vague answer. "To resurrect him, you will need…"

Just as it was about to finish, it felt a catastrophic tremor.

A tremor originating from the Crystal Labyrinth, its source the Well of Eternity.

If the Well's power fully erupted…

The entire hidden library would be destroyed.

Its very essence would suffer irreparable damage – perhaps even annihilation.

"No!"

The daemon prisoner's eyes showed unspeakable fear.

The Chaos God hidden within trembled in terror – far worse than when facing the son of the Accursed.

BOOM—

Tzeentch shattered the pact at all costs. The daemon prisoner vanished in an explosion of rainbow flames.

He fled, leaving Guilliman and his allies staring at each other.

"Were my questions too difficult?" Guilliman asked after a moment of silence, puzzled.

——

The upheaval caused by the Well of Eternity was utterly terrifying.

Eden could clearly sense that if its contained power were fully unleashed, it would annihilate the entire secret library.

Perhaps even cause unknown changes to the material universe.

Beyond the danger, this was the Changer of Ways' most precious treasure. If he truly blew it up…

That old bastard would come at him with everything.

Especially since he was right in its domain. This was practically suicide.

"Fuc*!… goodbye!"

Eden caught himself just in time, stopping before he asked the final, catastrophic question.

He quickly backed away from the Well's edge.

In the next moment—

The Well of Eternity seemed to erupt with survival instinct, halting all further probing and desperately calming its magical waters.

Soon, the entire area stabilised, returning to its former stillness as if nothing had happened.

The great weaver ravens circling above slowly returned to their perches, still visibly shaken.

"That was too close… curiosity kills the cat."

Eden restrained his aura, pretending nothing had happened as he walked away, a bead of cold sweat trickling down his forehead.

He had nearly achieved humanity's greatest victory over Chaos – blowing up the Crystal Labyrinth.

That would have been even more insane than burning down Nurgle's Garden… but a bit too suicidal.

And the consequences were unknowable.

"Seems the influence of higher-dimensional beings is still at play. Otherwise, there wouldn't have been such a catastrophic reaction."

He pondered deeply.

"If that's the case, then my soul from a higher dimension… is inherently of a higher order than anything here?

Maybe that's one of the reasons my little sun's Warp essence is so explosively powerful."

Eden quickened his pace away from the Well of Eternity, lest the weavers realise what had just happened.

For now, Eden had no intention of touching the secrets of the Well of Eternity. Better to leave it for the Changer of Ways to explore.

If that big blue bird ever truly discovered its secrets, realised its fate was manipulated by a higher dimension… would it fall into depression?

Or perhaps, there was never any secret to begin with.

Before long—

He left that mysterious area and ventured deeper into the hidden spaces.

…

The Hall of Schemes.

Countless large black round tables filled this open chamber, providing a place for those within the secret library to convene and conspire.

Those Tzeentchian Greater Daemons who glimpsed destinies or uncovered key clues would gather here to coordinate their plots,

Combining their unfathomable cunning to counter any foe.

Thus, this hall brewed more schemes and treacheries than anywhere else in the galaxy. Every word or plan spoken here could affect billions of lives.

Sending a planet or entire sector spiralling into chaos.

Or causing the schemer themselves to be utterly ruined, dragged into deeper, more tragic fates.

Such was common in Tzeentch's domain. Schemes cut both ways, and from a certain perspective, failure was more likely than success.

All is within the plan.

Yet even so, these Lords of Change delighted in their games.

"Caw caw caw!"

Seven or eight Lords of Change clustered around a black round table, whispering and exchanging secrets and viewpoints.

These creatures had formed a temporary cabal, working toward a shared goal: to craft an ever more insidious scheme.

Their target – a wealthy planet within the Savior's realm.

It was a challenge. Many weavers had already shattered themselves against that world, their schemes ending in utter defeat.

Which only fuelled the interest of others.

"I hold the deepest secret of a high-ranking official on that planet.

He's from the Coton Steward family, secretly bedding another official's wife… and sired a bastard child."

One weaver spoke from the shadows in a low rasp.

"The capital's shield energy core has developed faults. It will fail at a certain moment, and repairs will take even longer… especially if the tech-priest responsible suffers an accident."

Another weaver's voice was sharp and thin.

"I discovered something even better…"

Yet another spoke. "The Plague Lord's corrupt cult has already seeded themselves on that planet, lying dormant."

These Lords of Change spoke one after another, revealing secrets and weaving connections.

Crafting a perfectly interlocked conspiracy.

They sought to detonate all tensions on that world during the Savior's plague crisis, plunging it into utter chaos.

Forcing all involved to struggle, turn upon each other, and descend into large-scale bloodshed.

Allowing the plague cult to strike in the confusion.

Even if the world's defenders purged them in the end, they would be left gravely weakened.

The Tzeentchian daemons were immensely satisfied, debating details and timings.

One weaver boasted confidently:

"Perhaps we should leave hints, to provoke that damned Daemon Inquisition of the Savior's realm…"

"No, we should scrawl blasphemies against the Savior himself, to show how powerless he is against our schemes!"

A scarred weaver snarled with hatred.

He wished to avenge himself upon the Savior, the Devourer of Daemons, for his past humiliations, to erase the fear and shame.

"Caw, I agree."

The giant raven's suggestion won unanimous approval, with many voicing praise.

The conspiracy was nearing perfection.

"I think… this pathetic scheme will never succeed."

Suddenly, a shadow who had been silent until now spoke, shattering their harmony.

"By Tzeentch above, what right have you to question us?!"

"Give us a reason!"

The Lords of Change glared furiously at the insolent voice.

If he could not give a satisfactory reason, he would be scorned and attacked by all involved.

"Because… I said so."

Eden stepped out from the shadows into their sight. "I, the Savior, the Primarch of Hope, say this scheme is destined to fail.

All in favour? All opposed?"

He had listened long enough to their plotting and could no longer bear it.

Rather than cleaning up after the scheme's chaos, it was better to cut it off at the source – and ideally make these ravens abandon any attempt to spread conspiracies on that world.

???

"Savior… how… how are you here?!"

"Don't come any closer!"

"CAW!!!"

The Lords of Change erupted in panic upon seeing the Hope Primarch, Savior, Devourer of Daemons.

How could this be happening?

How had the Savior reached the depths of the Crystal Labyrinth? Had the Accursed One cast him down here?

They fell into utter terror, scattering and taking flight in all directions, desperate to flee from this overwhelming being.

However, the Savior's appearance triggered wider consequences. Other Lords of Change seated at the surrounding tables noticed the commotion.

Several powerful beings closed in, their gazes wary.

But Eden was unconcerned.

His guardians would arrive soon.

ROAR—

A rainbow flame crashed down with explosive force.

Balur led his cohort of massive daemons into the chamber, smashing aside all who tried to surround them.

"OUT OF MY WAY!"

He slapped down the nearest weaver with a single blow.

"Madman…"

His violent, fearless aura made many Lords of Change step back instinctively.

They all knew this Weavemaster's reputation – Balur the Mad. (TL: At least I decided a name for this daemon.)

He had risen with terrifying speed into Tzeentch's top ninety-nine Greater Daemons. His bearing of the number nine was testament to his power.

Most Lords of Change prided themselves on refinement, plots, and subtle sabotage, civilised and elegant.

But Balur was different.

He was nothing like Tzeentch's usual followers – far more like Khorne's savage berserkers.

Those who angered him faced unending torment – no scheming, no stealth attacks, only direct, brutal pummelling.

Grabbed and beaten again and again, until death or submission.

One weaver ranked among the top fifty had provoked Balur, and was beaten hundreds of times until he begged for mercy.

Ever since, they all treated him with wary respect.

No one wanted to be stalked daily by such a lunatic. How could one focus on weaving schemes like that?

The hall fell silent under Balur's oppressive presence. Some weavers quietly moved aside – better let this madman deal with the Savior.

Then, a rumour quietly spread.

Shock and disbelief rippled through the gathered daemons.

The news said the Savior was here as a guest invited by Tzeentch himself, perhaps part of some vast plan.

Hearing this, the weavers abandoned any notion of attacking him. Many even discreetly avoided his gaze.

No one wanted to be entangled in one of Tzeentch's plans.

For they knew well the Changer of Ways' capricious cruelty. Better to fight Khorne's berserkers than fall into Tzeentch's schemes.

Too many had been toyed with, falling at the cusp of success, transformed by torment into hideous mindless abominations.

Tzeentch's poor reputation was well-earned.

Even his own followers despised it.

They looked upon Balur with a mix of respect, ridicule, and pity – feeling faintly superior in their wisdom.

Poor madman, so easily stepping into Tzeentch's trap.

"Savior…"

Balur ignored them, striding forward to stand before Eden. "You and your companions have received the knowledge Tzeentch granted. You must leave now."

"Very well, let's go." Eden nodded.

It seemed the Warp Physician and Zaraphiston had obtained the knowledge they needed. It was indeed time to leave.

If they lingered too long, those two might become completely corrupted.

Once they returned—

He would have better cures against the plague, able to purge it swiftly from the Savior's realm and dismantle Nurgle's traps.

Then he could rush to support Brother Guilliman on Ultramar.

With Balur and the great daemons escorting him, Eden strode boldly from the Hall of Schemes as if it were his domain.

No one dared stop him.

Afterwards, he gathered the Warp Physician and Zaraphiston, and together they left the Crystal Labyrinth.

Returning to the material universe.

…

Meanwhile.

"No… what has happened?!"

The Changer of Ways rushed back to the Crystal Labyrinth at near-suicidal speed.

(End of Chapter)

[Check Out My Patreon For +20 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!][[email protected]/zaelum]

[+500 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]

[Thank You For Your Support!]