The Slaanesh Assassin ignored all the illusions in the outer rings, heading straight to the innermost Chaos Throne—the supreme palace of the Chaos God Slaanesh.
It was a luxurious, dreamlike palace as if every word for beauty applied here.
Before him stood a figure who seemed both the perfect prince for every woman and the dream lover of every man.
Beside Slaanesh was a gorgeously dressed, handsome, and sinister man—none other than the fallen Primarch Fulgrim.
Slaanesh, Fulgrim, and the palace's other daemonettes all looked curiously at the giant purple figure entering.
Slaanesh beamed with delight, gazing at the purple giant with keen interest.
Perfect! Absolutely perfect!
He/she had perfectly inherited Slaanesh's power, and could even walk freely in realspace.
This being's birth was certainly related to Slaanesh—the power was Slaanesh's, yet Slaanesh could not control it.
As the youngest Chaos God, only just over ten thousand years old, Slaanesh was filled with questions about this purple giant.
Slaanesh often drew mortals into the Palace of Pleasure, sometimes as a male, sometimes as a female, for intimate interactions.
Most of those lucky few had their souls devoured afterward, not even a trace remaining.
Those who survived and left could be counted on one hand—the little puppy, his father, and the other Chaos Gods had similar abilities.
There were certainly no females among them—so how was this being born?
"My lord, should I withdraw so you and your child may talk privately?" Fulgrim asked, smiling.
"No need! Stay right here. This isn't Tzeentch's palace—there are no secrets here," smiled the Dark Prince, turning to the purple figure.
"Welcome to my palace, child! Welcome home. Tell me—how were you born?" Slaanesh began with a welcome, then asked.
"Does it matter, father—or mother? How should I address you?" asked the Assassin.
Rhodes was watching remotely through the system, ready to instantly recall his Slaanesh Assassin if anything went wrong.
"Heh, you're quite right—it doesn't matter. What matters is that your power is indeed from me, and even I am surprised! As for what to call me—I prefer the female form. Call me Mother, or Mom!" Slaanesh replied.
Right. His origin isn't important—Slaanesh didn't believe anyone could steal his power to create such a being. The other Chaos Gods couldn't do it.
If they could, they'd secretly raise such a being against Slaanesh, not expose it openly.
This offspring could only have arisen by accident. Although Slaanesh didn't know how the power within was unmistakably his.
Slaanesh didn't care to investigate further—now that this mysterious child had come home, he was Slaanesh's.
"All right, Mother. Honestly, I don't even know how I was born. From my first moment of consciousness, I had this divine power, this purple armor, and this purple sword," the Assassin replied.
"Maybe your mother was destroyed by my power the instant you were born. It's the force of a Chaos God, after all!" Slaanesh said.
With such terrifying power, even the strongest realspace females couldn't bear it. Only Slaanesh himself could.
"Yes. I've never met my mother or father. Until one day, I met a group of daemons. Learning about their power, I realized where mine came from," the Assassin said.
"That's a good thing, isn't it? Now you've come to me—the most perfect outcome. My child, you have a physical form and can walk realspace. But your power isn't strong enough yet, and your soul is a bit lacking. I can sense that your body can hold even more of my power. As for your soul, I can capture some minor gods for you, shatter their souls, and have you devour them. You'll become even stronger—perhaps join my eternal game in the future," said Slaanesh.
The key was that this mysterious child had a body that could contain the power of a minor god—perhaps the strongest in realspace.
His divine power wasn't fully awakened; the body could bear more. Even now, he was far stronger than most Greater Daemons—even Fulgrim beside Slaanesh couldn't defeat him.
If Slaanesh boosted his power and enhanced his soul to a minor god level, nothing in realspace could oppose him—not even the newly ascended Emperor's offspring.
Slaanesh would have a minor god who could walk the material world, with limitless potential.
Hearing this, Rhodes—still aboard the Pedan ship—smiled. Just as he thought.
Slaanesh was arrogant, even blindly so. Though the youngest of the four, as one of the universe's top beings, absolutely bound to the Warp, he believed no one could duplicate his power.
Even if a trace leaked, it would create endless daemons or spawn a Greater Daemon, or raise a mortal to Daemon Prince.
Slaanesh didn't care about the Assassin's true origin. So long as he came home, he was Slaanesh's.
Just a little more power from Slaanesh would make the Assassin far stronger than any minor god in realspace. That's what Slaanesh cared about.
Rhodes' plan in sending the Assassin to Slaanesh was to get a free upgrade—why spend 2 million credits when Slaanesh himself could do it?
If Slaanesh caught some minor Warp gods and fed them to the Assassin, he'd become even stronger than a Primarch.
"I came here for greater power, Mother," said the Assassin.
I want your power—and to stay here as my master's eyes.
"No problem, my child! Who else would I give my power to if not you? But it can't be free—after all, I have countless daemons and mortal followers. I must make them all accept you. So, I have a task for you: complete it, and I'll give you greater power. I'll boost your strength to the limit and find minor gods' souls for you to devour for perfection," Slaanesh said.
The talk of needing to impress others was nonsense—Slaanesh could do anything at whim, and no one would dare object.
But Slaanesh wanted to test his son's loyalty.
"So, Mother, what task would you give me?" asked the Assassin.
There's no free lunch—if I want Slaanesh's boost, I'll have to run an errand first.
"Lately, I've been annoyed! The Emperor's made a bunch of Avatars—strange beings. Your first task is to capture one for me. Complete this, and I'll maximize your power and soul. Once you're at full strength, you could make a mortal a Chaos Champion—or even a Daemon Prince—effortlessly," Slaanesh said.
"Mother, that's an easy task, but there's a small problem," the Assassin said.
"Oh? What problem?" Slaanesh asked.
"That so-called Avatar of the Emperor—I already defeated one just before coming here, as well as a giant Custodes. The daemonette who brought me saw it all. If you can give me something to capture an Avatar, so the Emperor can't recall it, I'll bring you one," the Assassin replied.
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