"Negotiation?"
Eden shook his head gently, his tone soft.
"That doesn't sound like something you'd say. The great Fallen Phoenix actually begging for mercy..."
Fulgrim raised his head, his eyes filled with venomous hatred. "I've already agreed to negotiate. What more do you want from me?
If you destroy that recording, I'm willing to reconcile and maintain peace!"
Even in such dire straits, the Fallen Phoenix still couldn't let go of his pride.
Eden sneered. "In a moment, I'll send this footage to Guilliman, let him enjoy the show. And I'll establish the most luxurious theatres in both the galaxy and the Warp, where this classic performance will be played endlessly.
Free admission, of course. Everyone will see your pathetic little act. You'll become the sole clown in the eternal comedy."
"You Devourer… why are you so cruel?!"
Fulgrim clenched his fists, veins bulging, as if already envisioning that pathetic and disgraceful scene.
"Watch your tone. If you still have a shred of reason left, you should know that you are begging for my mercy!" Eden barked.
He once again enlarged the projection, seemingly about to broadcast it to the outside world.
Fulgrim whispered in defeat, "What must I do for you to reconcile with me… to end this?"
Eden looked down upon him from above.
"Fallen Phoenix, lower your proud head. Admit that you're inferior to me in both appearance and power.
Confess. Use everything you have to beg for my forgiveness.
Now!"
The Devourer's tone was resolute and allowed no argument.
Fulgrim knew that even a moment of hesitation would mean that dreadful footage would be released for all to see—
Condemning him to eternal torment. He would rather die than let that happen.
His sharp fingernails dug into his palms, blood dripping as he shut his eyes tightly, lowered his head, and knelt in submission:
"Lord Devourer… I repent for all I have done. I admit…"
The Fallen Phoenix, after endless torment, spoke the most humiliating words of his existence.
He was broken. All he wanted was for this nightmare to end.
"Your repentance and plea satisfy me."
The Devourer's gentle tone sent a spark of hope through Fulgrim's heart—
Like a survivor pulled from the brink of death.
It was a glimmer of hope.
However—
What came next plunged him into an even deeper, darker abyss.
"Thank you for your cooperation. You've just helped me record an even more valuable scene, significantly raising the footage's worth!"
Eden looked at the Fallen Phoenix and projected new footage. "I suggest you never appear in my territory or within the Empire again, or you will face consequences far beyond what you can endure..."
Fulgrim's eyes widened, filled with disbelief and deep hatred at his own foolishness.
He trembled as he raised his head.
In the footage—
The Fallen Phoenix was practically groveling, surrendering to the Devourer and admitting his inferiority, tearfully begging for mercy and praising his enemy in shame.
Even worse—
The Devourer had zoomed in on Fulgrim's disheveled, tear-streaked face, showing his humiliation in painful clarity.
Any viewer would give the same verdict:
"A clown. A complete and utter clown."
The Necron Overlord, famed collector, and figurine king Trazyn the Infinite, if he ever found out about this, would spare no effort or cost to buy or steal this priceless original footage—
And place it in the center of his museum's main exhibition hall.
To Eden—
It was the perfect piece of leverage, one that would allow him to utterly dominate Fulgrim, a being obsessed with his image to a twisted degree.
To Fulgrim—
It was a nightmare that would haunt him forever.
"No… you can't… you cruel demon…"
Fulgrim collapsed into despair, crying bitterly and nearly falling apart:
"Kill me! Just kill me! Let me sink into eternal sleep! I never want to wake again!"
At this moment, he felt that the Devourer was more terrifying than a Chaos God.
But this was always Eden's doctrine—
Humanity had always fought reactively, suffering countless tragedies only to barely drive Chaos back.
That wasn't enough.
For immortal Chaos beings, such setbacks were nothing more than temporary defeats—they would always return.
So—
When it came to these xenos, heretics, and Chaos forces, one had to strike harder than them, harsher than them, to make them feel true pain and despair.
"Now scram!"
Eden fulfilled Fulgrim's wish.
He unleashed a surge of searing psychic power and shattered this fragment of the Fallen Phoenix's essence—
Banishing it completely from the area and hurling it back into the Palace of Pleasure.
He let out a sigh.
"Man… that was a first for me."
Anyway, he had gotten the leverage he needed. Keeping a broken fragment of Fulgrim's soul had no value.
That part of Fulgrim was near collapse and wouldn't dare show up again for a long time.
"Old man…"
After dealing with Fulgrim, Eden turned to speak with the Emperor—
But the moment he turned around, every hair on his body stood on end.
His psychic senses screamed a fatal warning—
A threat he could not resist.
And it came from the Emperor!
The golden figure of the Emperor still stood motionless, seemingly unchanged.
But to Eden's eyes, His essence had completely transformed.
Now—
The Emperor exuded a terrifying aura of negativity.
He seemed to embody all the pain and malice in the universe, making even the Warp itself wail in agony.
At that moment—
Eden felt as if he were facing the most horrifying Chaos God of all.
Just that oppressive aura left him unable to move.
He even questioned—
Had the Emperor truly risen from the Golden Throne… and ascended into Chaos?
Would the next moment see himself torn apart?
Thankfully—
It lasted only a moment.
The negative aura quickly vanished and returned to pure divinity.
The Emperor's body stirred slightly and took a step forward.
But He now felt completely alien.
He was no longer a person with emotion, but a cold, all-powerful embodiment of belief.
There was no trace of warmth—
Only pure reason remained.
It was like witnessing a machine, running purely on protocol.
"Old man, what's wrong with you…?" Eden took a deep breath and tried to reach out—
But there was no answer.
The Emperor simply walked forward with measured steps.
His aura fluctuated with each step, shifting through various personalities as though struggling with something.
Only when He stood before Eden—
Did the familiar presence return.
Eden finally breathed a sigh of relief.
The Emperor gently placed a hand on his shoulder, transmitting several psychic messages.
He expressed approval of Eden's handling of Fulgrim.
At the same time, He warned that the Warp was growing more dangerous—
The Chaos Gods were getting stronger.
He urged the Savior to honor his promises:
To unite with the Guilliman brothers and cleanse the galaxy of xenos and Chaos.
Only then could mankind reign supreme across the stars.
Then—
Like a being overwhelmed by exhaustion, the Emperor's energy-forged form completely dispersed.
"Ssshh—this just got a whole lot worse."
Eden looked at the now-empty space and drew in a sharp breath.
Only now did he realize—
The massive Warp disturbance earlier wasn't caused by the Emperor fighting Fulgrim—
It came from the Golden Sun itself changing.
In simple terms—
The Sun's belief energy levels had surged out of control, revealing its dark side.
Under the weight of faith, the Emperor had developed multiple personalities and absorbed humanity's despair and destructive emotions.
It was only natural that such accumulation would eventually give birth to a dark persona.
Eden even suspected—
The "familiar" Emperor he knew might not be the true Emperor at all—
But merely the kind, benevolent personality forged from mankind's faith.
That's how dangerous belief could be.
Even Eden wasn't immune.
The only reason he hadn't developed alternate personas himself was because he constantly burned through faith energy to manage the negative effects.
Otherwise, who knew what weird things might've split off from him?
"...It really is possible that a fifth Chaos God might be born."
Eden grew deeply concerned.
Fortunately, he already had a solution in motion.
Right now, the core problem was that the Holy Towers weren't consuming the faith energy fast enough to offset what the Golden Sun was absorbing—
Causing it to hit a critical mass.
Luckily—
The mines of the Charalton system had already resumed full operation.
He now had the resources to build more Holy Towers and ease the Sun's pressure.
It was a win-win strategy.
In the Savior's latest plans, not only would Holy Towers be built on all the planets in his domain—
They would also be placed throughout the Webway, to absorb excess energy and light up key areas for safer expansion.
With those thoughts in mind—
Eden's energy-formed body faded, his consciousness returning to the Mini Sun.
He glanced at the Golden Sun.
Now—
It had calmed, but he could still sense the Emperor's exhaustion and suppression.
"Hang in there, old man. I'll fix this soon."
He considered letting the Mini Sun absorb some of the Emperor's belief energy—
But wasn't sure if he could handle it.
If he pushed himself too far and accidentally developed a new persona—
And if that persona decided to join Slaanesh's party...
It'd be over.
Eden knew himself well enough.
Better to stick with the Holy Towers.
Only if that failed would he use the Mini Sun.
With all that sorted—
Eden's consciousness left the Mini Sun and returned to realspace...
...
The Warp.
Slaanesh's Palace, Fulgrim's Private Chambers.
In this opulent, grotesquely twisted chamber, lined with velvet and human skin, fragments of shattered mirrors littered the floor.
These tens of thousands of mirrors had been ordered installed by the Fallen Phoenix himself, each carefully angled with precise lighting—
So that from any spot in the room, Fulgrim could admire his perfect form.
But now—
Every mirror that could still reflect anything had been smashed.
"Damn it... Damn it all!"
Fulgrim's serpentine form coiled in rage, his expression swinging between venomous hatred and raw terror.
Suddenly—
He touched his face and remembered he needed to reapply his makeup.
But then, glimpsing his reflection in a shard, the humiliating memory returned—
The projection. The disgrace. The shame that made him wish for death.
BOOM—
Another surge of Chaos power erupted, grinding the remaining shards into meaningless rubble.
"Devourer!!"
Fulgrim hissed through gritted teeth, but he kept his voice low, afraid others might hear him.
Tears welled up in his eyes.
His diseased, performative personality compelled him to act the part of a perfect, tragic victim.
"Fulgrim!"
A harsh, metallic voice rang out—
Followed by the holographic projection of a Chaos Primarch, clad in thick armor, storm hammer in hand, his skull socketed with a mass of cables.
Perturabo.
The Lord of Iron had come to Fulgrim seeking an alliance against the Devourer.
His network of tech-cultist informants had uncovered vital intelligence—
One that could deliver a crushing blow to the Imperium's rising star.
"I bring good news. You'll thank me for this," came Perturabo's cold, machine-filtered voice.
"I've intercepted a data packet detailing the Imperium's troop deployments. You'll have a chance to strike against the Devourer…"
But the moment he said it—
Fulgrim flinched.
And with a shrill, furious scream, he exploded:
"GET OUT!"
A flood of dark pink Chaos energy surged out.
Perturabo's comm-link was instantly severed, plunging the connection into silence.
The Lord of Iron stood frozen in the void, unable to comprehend what just happened.
Why had that lunatic snapped again? Why wouldn't he even listen to valuable intelligence about their enemy?
Perturabo would never understand his brother's twisted psyche.
With nothing gained, he departed in frustration, and the plan to strike the Devourer was once again delayed.
Once Perturabo's presence was fully gone—
Fulgrim collapsed in a mess of sobs and rage.
He began yet another performance.
Soon—
His thoughts returned to that damned recording.
"Lord Devourer…"
Trembling, he tried to string together friendly wording, sending a message to Eden, hoping to beg for secrecy.
…
The Webway.
Ork Ship.
The clanking ship rattled violently, with metal sheets and engine parts falling every few seconds. It looked like the whole vessel might fall apart at any moment.
"Still trying to contact me?"
Eden casually slapped away a flying engine part, then cut off Fulgrim's call—again.
This was the third time the Fallen Phoenix had reached out.
It was only because they were in the Webway that such Warp influence could even reach him.
Thankfully—
Once the Holy Towers were in place, the energy from the Golden Sun would block most Warp interference.
Ensuring safer navigation through the Webway.
Through a hole in the bottom of the ship, Eden could see the construction crews laying the foundations for the Holy Towers.
In time, they would stand like streetlamps—
Illuminating critical areas of the Webway.
Then—
Fulgrim sent another message.
Eden opened it, only to receive a surprising report:
The Lord of Iron had his eyes on the Savior's domain.
No doubt—
The Fallen Phoenix, desperate to keep his secret, had sold out Perturabo in good faith.
Eden wasn't surprised. Chaos was always full of backstabbing. These two, even if they sometimes schemed together—
Were never truly allies. They had been enemies before.
"Thanks for the info," Eden replied.
"Fulgrim, next time Slaanesh is planning anything major, be sure to let me know. And feel free to spend more time in Slaanesh's bedroom. Be proactive…"
He was looking to plant an insider in the Palace of Slaanesh.
As a Daemon Primarch, Fulgrim had much more autonomy and access to sensitive intel about Slaanesh's movements.
By contrast, someone like Abaddon the Despoiler operated almost independently, more like a cooperator with the Chaos Gods—
Using their resources while still having the gall to challenge them across the galaxy.
"That might not be a good idea…" Fulgrim protested internally, unwilling to betray the Prince of Pleasure.
"What's bad about it? You'll get used to it. Or are you trying to disobey me?"
Eden spoke bluntly:
"That's final. From now on, don't contact me unless you have something important. Or suffer the consequences."
With that—
He cut the connection.
Sure enough, Fulgrim didn't dare message again.
But Eden knew that narcissistic freak would be writhing in paranoia and agony for quite some time.
Of course—
He had no intention of releasing the footage anytime soon.
That thing was like a nuclear bomb—most powerful when held back as a threat.
Once released—
It would become a matter of life and death. Total war.
And with Fulgrim's unstable, pathological mind, who knew what he'd do if pushed too far?
He might snap completely.
And turn into an even more deranged and vicious enemy.
A vengeful, psychotic, never-dying Daemon Primarch was not something to be trifled with.
Eden forwarded Perturabo's intelligence to the Departmento Munitorum, then walked deeper into the ship.
He pushed open a rattling, dented metal door—
And was hit by a wave of scorching heat.
Inside the chamber, it was bustling with activity.
"Hurry up! Where's my Arkenberry sauce?!"
Big Barrel and a heavily armored Ork Mekboy were squatting on the floor, fiddling with something.
"Boss Savior!"
"WAAAGH! (Boss!)"
At Eden's arrival, the Mekboy jumped to attention, while Big Barrel also stood up straight.
"Well done."
Eden nodded, and without hesitation grabbed the roasted meat they'd spent so long preparing over a special flame.
Eating as he walked deeper: "Not bad. Make me another one later…"
As he ventured farther in, the temperature rose dramatically.
Up ahead—
A massive mechanical cage of Blackstone sat on the ground.
Inside, a humanoid flame thrashed wildly, slamming against its prison.
Boom—Boom—Boom—
But it could not escape.
Eden's eyes lit up.
Because sealed inside—
Was a C'tan Shard of the Traveler: Nyadra'zatha the Burning One.
To capture this entity—
He had dispatched an entire small fleet, including Big Barrel, the Ork Mekboy, many Space Marines, and hordes of Orks.
Only through carefully laid Blackstone traps had they managed to imprison it.
They had even lost an Ork ship and a significant amount of Blackstone.
But to secure such a precious weapon of war and power source—
It was a huge win.
BOOM—
The Burning One released another blast of fire, making the Blackstone cage quake violently.
"This thing doesn't look very secure, huh?" Eden muttered, uneasy.
But after the Mekboy's wild ramblings, he gave up trying to understand the tech.
Eden swallowed the last bite of meat and got to the point.
"Since we've captured the Burning One, get it installed right away.
We're going to need that war machine ready for the Leviathan Tyranids arriving at Baal…"
The Ork Mekboy's team had plans to embed the Burning One into the combat satellite as one of its core power sources.
Then—
The Ork ship entered a vast, open region of the Webway.
Here—
Stood their construction base.
At its center—
A colossal mechanical creation nearly a hundred kilometers long hovered in midair…
(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!]