Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor

The Well of Eternity.

Tzeentch, the Changer of Ways and Great Conspirator, hurried over to the source of the disturbance. Thankfully, everything here had already returned to calm.

His illusory form prostrated itself over the area, tracing the remnants of what had happened, attempting to find the cause.

However, the Changer of Ways found nothing—no answers at all.

This only deepened His confusion.

Tzeentch thought back to His experience aboard the Macragge's Honour, feeling ever more anxious, sensing His grip on the future weakening.

Perhaps it was related to changes in the Well of Eternity. Yet He could not rule out the influence of that Hope Primarch.

Still, there was no clue, no omen, nothing at all.

Blankness. Endless blankness.

Reviewing every contact He had ever made with the Hope Primarch, Tzeentch's phantom form trembled.

It seemed that each encounter with him only brought harm, as if it were fate itself.

For the first time, the Changer of Ways felt fear.

He cancelled thousands of contingency plans targeting the Hope Primarch, unwilling to maintain any link to that unfathomable being.

Better not to risk entanglement with a fate that transcended His own powers.

Suddenly, His iridescent body shivered again.

Tzeentch received a psychic message from the Hope Primarch:

"Great Changer of Ways, I thank you deeply for your selfless sharing of knowledge. Your wisdom and power have undoubtedly turned the tide in the galaxy's resistance against the Plague Father.

I hope we may continue to cooperate until Nurgle is defeated once and for all.

Perhaps, before long, I shall visit the Crystal Labyrinth again to thank you in person, and while I'm there…"

???

This sudden letter of gratitude left Tzeentch utterly baffled.

The Hope Primarch was unlike any other being in the galaxy or the Warp. Tzeentch simply could not predict his next move. He was an enigma, a shifting black hole of fate itself.

After a long silence, Tzeentch severed their connection completely.

And once He did so, He felt much lighter.

He returned to gazing upon the Well of Eternity as usual.

The known future had shifted.

He needed to find new threads of fate to regain the initiative.

Tzeentch stared into the Well for a long, long time.

He suddenly felt as though the magical waters below had become somewhat sluggish, and the realization cut like a knife through His mind...

...

O'Neil – Plague Research Laboratory.

"Why did he block me…?"

Eden frowned deeply, puzzled. "That big blue bird is just plain rude…"

His journey to the Crystal Labyrinth this time had been pleasant.

He had sent Tzeentch a heartfelt letter of thanks, hoping to cooperate again in the future and perhaps visit the secret library more often.

Unfortunately, it seemed the Great Conspirator was not pleased.

Thinking back, he felt a twinge of guilt. "Maybe I caused too big a stir this time, and He's upset."

In truth, Tzeentch now considered any contact with the Hope Primarch an omen of doom, and out of reverence for fate, He had blocked him outright.

Knock knock knock—

The reinforced ceramite-glass of the isolation chamber rattled, drawing Eden's attention.

He turned to look.

Inside, the Plaguebearer was acting up again.

In just a few days, his corruption had worsened further, fusing him to six other chosen of Nurgle until they became a single writhing mass.

The seven twisted faces on his body laughed madly:

"Seven days. Seven days are nearly up. The loving embrace of the Plague Father is coming. All shall welcome deathless decay… Praise be to Father Nurgle…"

"Foolish humans, you cannot refuse this joy. Open your arms to the plague, for you shall be granted eternal life…"

"Submit, for the Plague Father is unstoppable!"

The Plaguebearer yearned to infect this world, to plunge its billions into torment and rot, transforming them into his living-dead congregation.

He would turn it into a paradise of pestilence—his greatest gift to Father Nurgle.

The rotting, many-faced, many-armed abomination chanted gleefully, beating every surface with all his limbs to produce an ever more twisted melody.

And this melody alone carried terrifying contagion.

Those who heard it would contract an unknown plague, becoming walking corpses.

Worse still, the isolation chamber seemed near its limits.

Bulbous fungi and warped vines spread across the floor and glass, rooting deep within and corroding it until imperceptible cracks began to form.

Fortunately, the lab had long since been evacuated and upgraded with top-tier soundproofing, with all nonessential staff relocated.

"Is that so… you love music so much?" Eden sighed in annoyance.

He sent an order to the High Inquisitor of the Daemon Inquisition:

"I do love helping others. Give our guest some real music."

The High Inquisitor smiled coldly. "Savior, we have just the track in mind. It shall be done."

Soon, Inquisitors wheeled in massive sonic emitters, attaching them to the ceramite-glass.

These would turn the entire isolation chamber into a resonant cavity, amplifying sound to a godlike intensity.

This was cutting-edge tech, first deployed by the Daemon Inquisition.

Civilian versions were planned for future release.

Within the Savior's territories, where devotion to sacred music reached unprecedented heights, sonic technology was the finest in the galaxy.

It had even sparked a collecting craze.

Many noble fanatics purchased the highest-end emitters to experience Savior's holy music in perfection.

They reviewed different emitters and tracks, seasoning their equipment with holy water, relics, and specific hymns to achieve ideal resonance.

These audiophile cults often gathered together.

Normally, any music- or art-related cult would quickly draw Slaanesh's attention.

However, their gatherings remained untouched, for besides Savior's music, they also played hymns to the Emperor, hosting grand Emperor & Savior electro festivals.

The Savior himself had even appeared at these festivals, encouraging his devotees.

They were thus both utterly loyal and holy.

BZZZZZZ—

The colossal emitter hummed and then unleashed an overwhelmingly sacred and intense Emperor-themed EDM track.

As the electronic beats roared, a priest's deep, growling voice rang out:

"Praise the Great Lord!

In His holy name, in battle, we proclaim: Against heretics and xenos, we stand unshaken.

For the Emperor—we live, we die, we are reborn!"

The savage death-metal electronica instantly drowned out the Plaguebearer's melody.

The continuous invocation of the Emperor's name embedded within the music filled the heretic with unspeakable agony and irritation.

"NO! Stop this accursed music!"

The Plaguebearer clutched his many ears with his countless hands, screaming as he hurled himself at the ceramite-glass in desperation, trying to destroy the hateful emitter.

But no one paid him any mind.

The emitter only ramped up the volume. At its peak, the Emperor's EDM became even more ferocious.

The High Inquisitor, adept in this method, began DJing mid-track—this was a standard interrogation torture of the Daemon Inquisition.

They sometimes forced prisoners to endure Emperor EDM for years, utterly breaking their minds.

Records showed most Chaos Daemons could not withstand it for long before they submitted.

The longest anyone had endured was five years.

By the end, the Daemon was left drooling and vacant-eyed.

"Damn… not gonna lie, even I can barely handle this stuff…" Eden took a deep breath.

These Emperor EDM tracks updated rapidly, each iteration more savage than the last—so sacred they bordered on heresy themselves.

It was like an Imperial version of a Noise Marine's onslaught.

He resolved to strengthen oversight to keep the field's development healthy and harmonious.

Watching the writhing Plaguebearer, Eden's eyes turned cold.

This was just a minor punishment.

Next time, this wretched heretic would learn true fear.

After all, the Arch-Changeling Medicus had obtained crucial knowledge from the secret library, knowledge that would finally allow them to create a true cure against plague.

And its results had surpassed all expectations.

...

Days later.

The roaring Emperor EDM within the isolation chamber finally ceased. More high-ranking Tech-Priests entered the area.

They were here for the final experiment.

"This is the purification reagent you spoke of?"

Eden gazed at the glass cylinder held aloft by the Arch-Changeling Medicus' mechanical tendrils. Inside was a pale green, crystal-clear concentrated liquid, faintly radiating vitality.

Its cost was astronomical, created from countless rare herbs and materials, imbued with the power of the Holy Sun and his own inner sun.

Just this small vial cost more than the annual tax revenue of several entire planets.

"Yes. By the Machine Goddess' grace, I have created a sacred elixir through superior means."

The Arch-Changeling Medicus held the vial reverently, visibly excited. This was his greatest masterpiece.

"It can dissolve and transform known plagues into harmless nutrients."

"Great Sage, your wisdom is remarkable."

Eden nodded in satisfaction.

If this purification reagent could truly neutralize the Plaguebearer in the isolation chamber, such a cost was worth it.

At least it was cheaper than Holy Ash Bombs.

Those bombs, though powerful, required an irreplaceable and precious resource: time.

Beyond his own blood and bone needed to craft them, they also demanded a long gestation period.

Thus, their output was pitifully small.

And the plague war stretched across vast regions of space. Even if he launched every Holy Ash Bomb he had, it would be like throwing pebbles into the ocean.

They could only be used as decisive, targeted weapons.

What he truly needed for large-scale battlefield deployment were mass-producible purification reagents.

Yes, they were expensive, but if he clenched his teeth and pushed through, they could endure.

At worst, once they reclaimed plague-held territories, they could slowly recoup their losses—and perhaps even profit.

"Begin the experiment."

Eden gave the order. After so much preparation, it was time to see whether the reagent could live up to expectations.

He hoped it would not disappoint him.

Inside the isolation chamber.

The Plaguebearer sensed the shift in atmosphere and grew tense.

"What are you doing?! The plague will never end!"

He unleashed more of Nurgle's energy, spewing forth writhing maggots in a desperate attempt to shield himself with these unholy lives.

But all resistance was futile.

The purification reagent was injected into the sprinkler system, turning into a crystalline mist that fell upon his corrupted flesh.

The reaction was immediate.

Venomous maggots perished in droves.

The plague bacteria infesting the Plaguebearer dissolved, unable to sustain his rotting body. Chunks of yellow-green meat sloughed off onto the floor.

He screamed in rage and injustice:

"No! This is Father Nurgle's blessed plague-flesh! I cannot lose it!

The people of this planet crave His eternal favor!

Do you understand what you are doing?

You are trampling His selfless love! This is a grievous error…"

He crawled along the ground, desperately trying to scoop the fallen meat back onto himself, frantically regenerating plague tissue in defiance.

He howled:

"You shall be cursed! You are unworthy of His gifts!"

Against his furious resistance, the reagent's effect seemed partially blocked.

"Arch-Medicus, increase reagent concentration by 25%."

Seeing Eden's slight frown, the Medicus promptly ramped up the spray's potency while continuing to record all experimental data.

As concentration rose, the results became increasingly dramatic.

The Plaguebearer's body disintegrated even faster. Emerald vines and flowers sprouted from his flesh, born from special seeds within the reagent.

They absorbed nutrients rapidly, purifying their surroundings even further.

"Father… I have failed you…"

With a final groan, the last remaining head fell silent, soon overgrown by flowers and vines.

This abominable heretic had been completely purified.

Soon, a mechanical voice reported:

"Experiment complete. No plague traces detected in the isolation chamber. Air and soil quality—"

"We did it!"

Eden's worries melted away as he gazed upon the lush greenery filling the chamber. A broad smile spread across his face.

An entire vial had been spent to destroy this Plaguebearer, but it was a tremendous success.

Even at such cost, eliminating a single Plaguebearer was worth it.

More importantly, the reagent could be diluted to cleanse standard plague zones, making it viable for large-scale battlefield use.

Decades ago, soon after Roboute Guilliman's awakening, Eden had established the Plague Research Institute to study such threats.

In the long years since, the institute had harnessed the technologies of many races, along with the gifts of brilliant minds like Fabius Bile, the Life Goddess Isha, and even Tzeentch, the Changer of Ways.

Finally, their painstaking work bore fruit.

The ceramite-glass walls of the isolation chamber slowly rose.

Eden stepped into the forest of vines and flowers, breathing in the fresh, clean air. Raising a bright red fruit that had grown on a vine, he took a bite.

"Not bad. Sweet."

He turned to the Arch-Medicus and issued his next command:

"Deploy all manufacturing capacity. Spare no cost. There is no budget ceiling for the purification reagent."

Swallowing the fruit, Eden gazed into the distant void.

He had grasped one of the keys to victory.

Now, it was time to strike back.

Time to invade Nurgle's Garden and steal away the beautiful Life Goddess!

...

Days later – Starspire Spaceport.

Salvation Fleet warships gathered one after another, with countless more vessels arriving in dense formations. Their reflections in the starlight turned the entire void into a sea of brilliance.

The Savior Sanctuary within the spaceport.

Heavy curtains were drawn across the floor-to-ceiling windows, blocking out the dazzling light.

Eden sat at his desk reviewing documents. Full mobilization was nearly complete.

Every department was ready for war.

According to the Department of Military Affairs, all major Space Marine Chapters had assembled, with their deployed members returning steadily.

This operation would also deploy new units—the Ogryn warriors!

The Storm Corps had upgraded their war machines, equipping their elites with protective combat armor suited for this campaign.

The Redemption Fleet had been outfitted with specialized gear to counter Nurgle's colossal plague warships—the Corrupted Void Whales.

The logistics division had organized vast medical and supply fleets to sustain the war effort.

Beyond that, the T'au Empire and the Steeltooth Ork Empire would send forces, while the Tyranid Hive Mother reported raising a batch of Tyranids with "special tastes" that might prove useful.

In short, his armies stood ready.

Ding~

Eden received a new message: his newly acquired servant, Zaraphiston the Grand Sorcerer, had completed a sorcerous artifact capable of detecting warp corruption within machinery.

As he read, the image of the Well of Eternity appeared in his mind, showing the Savior's capital world, Maltira, being swallowed by plague.

A prophecy, no doubt.

Upon finishing the message, Eden immediately ordered Carter to prepare a new itinerary.

Before setting off for Ultramar, he would purge the trap that damnable moth had left behind on Maltira.

...

Nurgle's Garden.

Father Nurgle's great plan was progressing with unprecedented success.

The deaths of countless humans intensified the garden's rotting miasma, expanding its territory ever further.

All of Nurgle's children were in rapturous celebration, constantly playing their foul melodies.

Now, under the noisy send-off of plague daemons, wave after wave of Great Unclean Ones marched forth into the galaxy.

Boom boom boom—

"Plague! More plague!"

A towering rotting body lumbered toward the garden's edge, disgorging worms in its wake.

This was Sytylas, ninth-ranked among the Great Unclean Ones, beloved of Nurgle.

He had been given a vital mission: to fully activate the corruption network buried within the Savior's domains, channeling the Garden's power there to halt Eden's advance.

...

The Brass Fortress. The Palace of the Supreme Bloodthirster.

A deep, hoarse voice like molten iron thundered through the realm:

"Blood God~

I, Supreme Bloodthirster, Avatar of Wrath, Skull Reaver, Mockery of the Changer of Ways, First Daemon of the Warp, offer myself for battle to face my fated enemy!"

Ka'Bandha's terrible form was encased in thick brass armor, bound in bloody chains and savage runes, radiating an unmatched aura of violence.

He strode forth, each step igniting the Warp in flame as billions of daemons roared in exultation like a tsunami.

At last, the Blood God's greatest champion marched to war.

Nurgle's triumph had eclipsed Khorne's glory for too long, but now this Supreme Bloodthirster would change everything.

He would reap worlds across the galaxy, making all creation tremble before the Blood God's might. Fire and blood would sweep across the stars.

(End of Chapter)

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