[As for Nurgle's influence on the physical World, we only need to look at a battle that took place in the 40th Millennium to realize it.]
[In a garden filled with decay and ash, several Astartes of the Death Guard confronted each other.]
[The Plague Caster Ephixis and Nurgle's Chosen, Morian.]
[Through the conversation between these two, we can learn that this World is one of Nurgle's Plague Gardens.]
[Ephixis told Morian that he wanted to end Morian's inaction. Under Morian's leadership, the Death Guard had faced nothing but endless failure.]
[Morian also understood the underlying meaning; to put it bluntly, Ephixis wanted to usurp his position and rebel.]
[But Morian was not afraid, because his greatest trump card was Nurgle's messenger, the Nurgling.]
[Unfortunately, he didn't know that Father Nurgle had long been dissatisfied with this useless fellow.]
[So, just as Morian confidently summoned the Nurgling, a scene appeared that left him completely dumbfounded.]
[The Nurgling had already run to Ephixis's side. After a round of verbal mockery, Ephixis directly cast a spell, turning the former Chosen Morian into a Chaos Spawn.]
[As for the Chaos Spawn, it is the most despairing existence in this Universe.]
[When you cannot withstand the mighty power of the Chaos Gods, this creature—originally human—will irreversibly collapse into a breakdown of reason and thought, and its humanity will wither day by day.]
[The only end for almost all surviving mutants is to become a Chaos Spawn, an Abomination that exists only to serve the mad ramblings and whims of the Chaos Lords.]
[You will feel a burst of vigorous vitality throughout your body, and in the next second, pervasive tentacles, arms, eyes, teeth, and so on...]
[...will grow savagely from every inch of your body. Believe me, you can probably clearly feel the sensation of this growth process until you finally become a terrifying ball of flesh covered in claws and tentacles, devoid of reason, unable to distinguish friend from foe, until everything is torn to shreds.]
[In appearance, Chaos Spawns take many forms.]
[Some look like humans but walk like beasts—a form that was once humanoid but has now mutated into a foul and terrifying shape from an anatomical perspective, mutated almost beyond recognition.]
[The eyes of these primitive creatures constantly peer outward, and on this ruin of flesh, almost no spark of former humanity can be seen.]
[Others look like Beasts but walk like humans—a twisted imitation of humanity, lumbering forest creatures.]
[Regardless of their specific form, Chaos Spawns are unspeakable, horrific creatures. Their twisted bodies are lined with rows of abnormal spikes, eyes, and mouths.]
[Some have long insectoid heads, while others have skin that secretes toxic slime.]
[Some, perhaps due to their habitat, have had their bodies become part of the forest; their constantly mutating bodies are connected to rotting withered branches, and their skin is covered in damp moss.]
[But please remember, although you lose your reason during this process, you will still feel pain. Due to the mighty power of the Chaos Gods, you cannot even die easily.]
DC Universe
"No... what is that?"
The Flash's voice was dry and trembling. As a scientist, the scene before him completely destroyed all his understanding of biology.
The text on the screen explained coldly: [...You will feel a burst of vigorous vitality throughout your body, and in the next second, pervasive tentacles, arms, eyes, teeth, and so on, will grow savagely from every inch of your body...]
"My God..."
Barry Allen took a half-step back subconsciously, his face as pale as paper.
"The cells are... they're proliferating in a disordered way, but it's not cancer... this is a forced, pain-filled, deformed evolution! His body is turning him into a monster while he's still alive, and he can feel all of it!"
"This isn't a battle, nor is it an execution."
Wonder Woman Diana's voice was full of holy fury. She clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white from the force.
"I have seen the most twisted souls in Tartarus, and the most cruel punishments of the gods! But even the most tyrannical of the Old Gods never conceived of such a... such a torture that profanes life itself!"
She stared at the lump of flesh on the screen that no longer looked human, with only twitching limbs and randomly growing organs left, and said word by word:
"This strips away all traces of his existence as a living being. This is ten thousand times more vicious than Death!"
Superman's gaze seemed frozen. He had seen Doomsday, the biological weapon born purely for destruction. But Doomsday had no thoughts, no soul; it was just a program.
But the text on the screen told him an even more terrifying fact:
[...But please remember, although you lose your reason during this process, you will still feel pain. Due to the mighty power of the Chaos Gods, you cannot even die easily.]
"He... he's still in there."
Superman's voice was as low as muffled thunder, his eyes turning slightly red from uncontrollable pity and anger.
"His reason has been destroyed, but the nerves that perceive pain are still alive."
"He is trapped forever in his own rotting and deforming body, becoming a living hell that feels endless pain."
At this moment, even Superman felt an unprecedented sense of powerlessness. This was not something he could save with strength, nor something he could purify with heat vision. This was the most thorough pollution and curse of "life" on a conceptual level.
"Alfred."
Bruce's voice broke the stagnant air. His voice was unusually calm, but beneath this calmness was a cold anger, like the deep sea, that even he hadn't anticipated.
"Yes, Master."
"The Joker makes Gotham go mad. He toys with people's hearts and destroys their reason to prove his theory."
Batman's gaze was like a scalpel, dissecting the thing called a "Chaos Spawn" on the screen. "He believes it only takes one bad day to make the best person fall."
He paused, and every word seemed squeezed out from between his teeth.
"But even he never thought of—or rather, his imagination was too poor to... even conceive of such a thing. This is no longer about proving any theory. It has no purpose, no meaning, no 'punchline'."
Batman's silhouette appeared even larger and more terrifying in the shadows, his voice making all the heroes present shudder.
"This is a pure, ultimate malice. Its only value for existing is as proof that a living being once existed and is now being eternally tortured in the most painful way. This is... the most vicious mockery of 'existence' itself."
Super God World
The command center of the Giant Gorge Ship was deathly silent. The previous feeling of disgust toward Nurgle had now been completely replaced by a cold, bone-deep incomprehension.
"I don't understand..."
Ge Xiaolun murmured to himself, his eyes full of confusion and fear. "Why? That guy Morian, wasn't he a believer of that 'Father Nurgle'? He was his Chosen Champion!"
"Yeah!"
Reina also uncharacteristically dropped all her arrogance, her tone carrying strong confusion. "Even if he's useless or lost the battle, just kill him with one stroke, or simply ignore him and let him fend for himself, wouldn't that be fine? Why use this way to... torture him?"
She pointed at the screen, her voice rising uncontrollably: "What's the meaning of this? Turning him into a brainless monster that only attacks everything—what good does that do for that Nurgle? This isn't even a punishment; it can't even be considered revenge! This... this is nothing!"
General Ducao clenched his fists tightly, veins popping. As a Commander, he understood war, understood sacrifice, and even understood execution. But he could not understand this illogical atrocity.
"It is destroying all our perceptions of the relationship between 'gods' and 'followers'. This is a pure malice that seeks no reward. This Nurgle is not utilizing its followers; it is... toying with them. Like a naughty child dismantling his toys in the most cruel way just to hear the sound of them breaking."
In the Demon Nebula, Morgana's sobbing had long since stopped. She stared blankly at the screen, her beautiful face left only with cold numbness and a deep sense of powerlessness.
"Queen..." Ato looked at her worriedly.
"Don't speak."
Morgana's voice was hoarse and hollow. "I used to think Keisha's Order of Justice was the most hypocritical thing in the Universe. Now I realize there's something even more terrifying than hypocrisy."
She slowly raised her head, her eyes filled with unprecedented confusion.
"I pursue decadence and freedom because I believe life should be controlled by oneself, even if it leads to destruction. Keisha maintains her Order for what she sees as universal stability. Karl studies Death for his so-called Ultimate Void. We... we all have our own purposes. Our actions, whether good or bad, have a logic to follow."
She gave a miserable smile, which looked worse than crying.
"But these Chaos Gods... what are they doing? What can they possibly get from this eternal, meaningless torture? Pleasure? A sense of satisfaction? No... no, this has gone beyond the realm of pleasure. This is... a pure madness that even I cannot understand."
"They aren't guiding decadence; they are manufacturing garbage. Garbage with no thought, no beauty, only pain. This is simply... an insult to the word 'decadence'!"
Angel Nebula, inside the Holy Temple.
"Incomprehensible, Queen Keisha."
Angel Yan's report carried a hint of trembling. "According to our logic database, any action should point to a clear purpose. Resources, information, territory, or even satisfying some emotional need. But transforming a loyal, powerful warrior into a mindless Chaos Spawn—the gain of this action is... zero. Even negative, because it destroys a useful asset."
Holy Keisha looked silently at the screen. On her face, which had remained unchanged for ten thousand years, a hint of solemnity appeared for the first time.
"Yan, you are wrong."
Keisha's voice broke the silence of the hall.
"Its gain is not zero. The reason you cannot calculate it is that you are using the logic of 'Order' to understand 'Chaos'. In our definition, 1+1=2. But in their domain, 1+1 can equal a screaming monster."
Keisha's gaze swept over all the Angels present.
"You are asking 'why' and looking for a 'purpose'. And that is precisely the effect they want to achieve. The 'purpose' of this action is to demonstrate 'having no purpose'. It uses this extreme, illogical cruelty to announce to the entire Universe: all meaning, all loyalty, all value are vulnerable before Chaos. They can be twisted into an ugly, never-ending joke at any time."
"It's not about getting something from followers; it's about telling all potential followers and all enemies—look, this is your final form. No matter who you once were, you will eventually become meaningless pain itself. This is the ultimate 'gift' of Chaos."
In the even more distant depths of darkness, within the Death Song Academy, Karl put down his book for the first time.
His scholar-like smile vanished, replaced by a frozen silence. He looked at the thing called a Chaos Spawn on the screen, his eyes behind the lenses widening slightly.
"Sno."
He spoke, his voice no longer a steady narrative, but carrying a hint of barely perceptible dryness.
"My Lord and my God."
"I have always told you that life is short and noisy, and only the Void is the eternal, perfect destination. I thought Death was an... upgrade, a transition from a low-level material form to a high-level informational form, eventually merging into that supreme, tranquil sea of knowledge."
Karl's gaze did not leave the screen, as if he wanted to penetrate that twisted flesh to see the essence behind it.
"But the 'Void' of this Universe... that place called the 'Warp'... it is not tranquil. It is roaring, it is hating."
His fingertips lightly tapped the table, producing not the confident, rhythmic cadence of the past, but a series of chaotic light sounds.
"It does not let life return to silence. It grabs life, screams in its ear, kneads it into the ugliest shape, and then tells it that this is 'rebirth'. It harbors... the purest malice toward life."
For the first time, Sno heard an emotion in Karl's tone, an emotion he had never felt from his god—fear.
Karl slowly leaned back in his chair, looking up at the endless darkness above, as if that darkness had also turned into a monster waiting to devour people.
"I always thought I was opening a door for the Universe to ultimate wisdom. But... how can I be sure that behind that door is the tranquil Void I imagined..."
He paused for a long time, his voice as low as a sleep-talker's, yet it made the entire Death Song Academy freeze.
"...and not a malicious... Warp, full of screams and torture?"