[Slaanesh's corruption does not come from external attacks, but originates from the whispers within your heart. He never forces you; He simply... gives you what you want.]
[A general, in Order to win a perfect victory with zero casualties, exhausted every possible tactic.]
[When he found that sacrifice was inevitable no matter what, he fell into agony.]
[At that moment, Slaanesh's whisper sounded in his ear: 'Why care about the lives of those mortals? They are but numbers on your perfect tactical map that can be erased at will.]
True beauty lies in your flawless strategy itself.']
[Thus, the general began to view the lives of his soldiers as chess pieces. He won more and more 'perfect victories' and became increasingly cold-blooded.]
[Finally, in pursuit of an absolute, time-transcending 'ultimate game,' he offered his soul to Chaos.]
[A lover, to protect the one he loved, was willing to give everything.]
[When he realized his lover would eventually grow old and die, he fell into despair.]
[At that moment, Slaanesh's whisper sounded in his ear: 'Since you love her, why not be with her forever? Carve her face onto your skin forever, record her voice in your mind forever, merge her flesh and blood with yours... that way, you will never be apart.']
[Thus, the lover killed and devoured his beloved, turning that love into an eternal, pathological possession.]
[The horror of Slaanesh lies in the fact that His starting point is often the most noble. The pursuit of perfection, the protection of loved ones, the creation of art... these are the most beautiful qualities of intelligent life.]
[But He will silently move your bottom line, one step at a time. He will make you feel that for that 'higher' goal, a small 'sacrifice' is worth it.]
[Until one day, when you look back, you find yourself already standing in the center of the abyss, and everything you originally wanted to protect has been destroyed by your own hands, becoming one shining, blood-stained medal after another on your path to depravity.]
[You were not defeated by Him.]
[You simply... became a more 'perfect' you.]
This cold narration, like a psychiatrist dissecting the heart of a serial killer, plunged the atmosphere in the entire theater into an unprecedented, bone-deep fear.
If Nurgle's rot is physiological disgust and Khorne's slaughter is a physical threat, then Slaanesh's corruption is a conceptual pollution that strikes the soul directly and is impossible to defend against.
DC Universe
[Justice League · Watchtower]
"No..."
Clark Kent, the great Superman, felt a shiver for the first time in his seat. It wasn't out of fear of an enemy's power, but a profound horror that his own beliefs were being polluted at their source.
"It... it's using 'hope'." Superman's voice was a bit dry.
"It's using the most beautiful wishes in our hearts—the desire for a more perfect World, the desire to protect those we love... and then, it twists that hope into the most terrifying obsession."
"That general... at first, he just wanted everyone to survive. It's the same as what I... what all of us do!"
"But Slaanesh told him that 'soldiers' lives' were obstacles to achieving the higher goal of a 'perfect victory.' So, for that 'more perfect' ideal, he abandoned his basic humanity."
Superman's gaze swept across every hero present, his eyes filled with unprecedented vigilance and a hint of fear.
"We make choices every day, weighing options. To save a city, we might destroy a building."
"But our bottom line is—life. And this Slaanesh, it's telling you that for that 'nobler' 'you,' even life itself can be sacrificed. This... this is the most vicious logical trap."
"It didn't attack you, Clark."
Batman's voice came from the shadows, cold and raspy, yet carrying a deep resonance that only he could understand.
"It is... agreeing with you."
Everyone looked at Batman.
"It will find your most paranoid point." Bruce Wayne's tone was terrifyingly calm.
"For that general, it was 'perfect victory.' For that lover, it was 'eternal love.' For me..."
He paused for a moment, and the entire Watchtower seemed to hear his suppressed heartbeat.
"...it is 'absolute Order' and 'total preparation'."
"It will whisper: 'Bruce, you're right. Gotham needs an iron fist; evil must be eradicated. That Joker, he's killed so many people; your 'No-Kill Rule' is just weak self-restraint."
"For a truly 'clean' Gotham, to ensure that the Waynes in the next alley never appear again, killing him is the only 'perfect' solution.'"
"It will say: 'Bruce, you're right."
"Your companions are all too powerful, too uncontrollable. To deal with the one-in-ten-thousand chance of them losing control, you need to develop more detailed, colder, and more unscrupulous 'Contingency Plans.' For the absolute safety of humanity, sacrificing your trust with them is worth it.'"
Batman's silhouette merged completely into the darkness, as if he himself were that abyss.
"It won't force me; it will only constantly tell me that the darkest, most paranoid thought in my heart is correct. It will offer the most magnificent hymns of praise for every line I cross."
"Until, for that 'absolutely safe' Gotham, I personally turn it into a larger Arkham, ruled by me, with not a hint of sin but also not a hint of freedom."
This time, in the Watchtower, no one could refute him. Because they all realized that the terror of Slaanesh lay in the fact that it was not an enemy.
It is the self deep within you that you most want to become, and most fear becoming.
Marvel Universe
[Avengers Tower · Tactical Briefing Room]
Tony stood up abruptly from the sofa. He didn't walk to the bar to pour a drink as usual; instead, he paced irritably around the room, the joints of his power armor making a slight grinding sound.
"No... this won't do... Friday, activate the highest level of the 'Bulwark Protocol.' Conduct irregular, anonymous mental state assessments for all Avengers. The algorithm... the algorithm needs to be rewritten!"
He spoke rapidly, filled with the signature anxiety of a technician facing an unfixable system vulnerability.
"Sir, I do not understand your concern." A gentle voice sounded.
"You don't understand?!"
Tony stopped abruptly, turned, and growled at the empty air.
"Its method of corruption! Didn't you see it? It doesn't attack our armor, or our superpowers! It attacks our 'motivation'!"
"It's the 'reason' we wake up every morning and decide to put on this tin suit or these tights!"
He pointed to his chest: "It would say to me:
'Tony, you're right! To protect Earth, you need more powerful weapons, smarter AI! Ultron's failure was only because his version was too low!"
"You need a more perfect, emotion-free 'Iron Legion' with absolute execution! For this 'absolute safety' goal, what does sacrificing a little bit of mortal 'freedom' and 'privacy' matter?'"
"You're right! You deserve the best! The top parties, the most expensive sports cars, the most extreme experiences!"
"You've given so much to this World, what's wrong with enjoying yourself? A little more, a little more excitement—that's what you deserve!'"
Tony's breathing became rapid, his eyes flashing with a deep fear that only he could understand.
"It won't attack me. It will... indulge me."
"It will indulge all my flaws—my ego, my paranoia, my damn bad habit of always trying to use a bigger technical problem to solve the previous one!"
"Until, in Order to create that 'perfect' 'Earth Armor,' I personally turn the entire Earth into a cold iron cage controlled by me!"
"This isn't an enemy, Tony."
Steve's voice was low and solemn. He looked at his hands, which had once held a shield and a paintbrush, his eyes filled with an unprecedented blankness.
"This is an... amplifier. It will find that tiny bit of imperfection deep in your heart and magnify it into a black hole that consumes everything."
"For that general, it was the obsession with perfection. For you, it's the desire for control and hedonism. And for me..."
Captain America gave a bitter smile, one filled with self-deprecation and sorrow.
"...perhaps it's that 'nostalgia' for the past that I can't let go of."
"It would tell me: 'Steve, you're right. This era is too complex, too dirty."
"Only that simpler, purer era in your memory is worth protecting."
"To return to that era, to protect that purity, any means can be forgiven.'"
"It would turn me from a 'man out of time' into a 'man who hates this time'."
"Eventually, I'd become an Old Timer who, in Order to protect the long-gone 'American Dream' in his heart, becomes an enemy of the entire real World."
"It turns our most cherished qualities into our most fatal weaknesses." The Sorcerer's voice rang out eerily. He wasn't fiddling with his Sling Ring as usual; instead, his hands were clenched tight, his knuckles white.
"For a sorcerer, the greatest temptation is 'knowledge'."
"Slaanesh would tell me there is older, more powerful, more 'perfect' magic waiting for me to explore."
"To obtain this knowledge, what does it matter if I touch a little 'taboo' or open a small 'Dark Gate'?"
"It would make me believe I am seeking greater power to protect reality, until for that 'ultimate knowledge,' I personally welcome an entity like Dormammu into our dimension."
"It's not destroying you." Doctor Strange gave his final, chilling summary.
"It's... helping you 'become' yourself."