"Has it succeeded? All of it?"
To Lucius, the conflict involving Clan Moulder was but a single engagement in a galaxy-spanning RTS. Had Moulder not been one of the Great Clans, one upon whom he had placed such lofty expectations, he likely would not have deigned to monitor them so closely.
As the Skaven Great Crusade surged forth, with vermin-kind taking root in every dark corner of the galaxy, billions of Skaven were birthed. In their wake came a never-ending torrent of treacherous prayers. Lucius could feel a steady, rhythmic thrum of faith flowing into his Warp-essence.
As semi-daemonic entities, Skaven possessed desires and soul-sparks of extreme intensity; thus, the energy they coalesced within the Immaterium was far more potent than that of ordinary mortals.
In a remarkably short span of time, Lucius's power had eclipsed that of numerous minor Chaos deities, ascending to a level comparable even to the T'au goddess, Tau'va.
Inevitably, within the trackless reaches of the Warp, the manifestation of a minor god, a colossal, horned vermin, was taking shape.
Such an occurrence was, in the grand scheme of the Immaterium, almost mundane. Countless emotions pour into the Warp daily, and countless minor powers are birthed from the silt. Most, however, perish before they truly manifest; the Ruinous Powers are quick to corrupt or devour the emotional resonance of the material universe, snuffing out such upstarts.
Lucius rose. Leaning upon a shepherd's crook carved of rat-bone and skin, he stood from the Throne of the Council of Thirteen.
The movement was immediate. The two Clan Lords who acted as his shadow, Nightlord Sneek of Clan Eshin and Seer Lord Kritislik of the Grey Seers, scrambled to their feet.
"Oh... Great-Great God, Great Horned Rat! Where... where do you go-travel?"
Seer Lord Kritislik threw himself prostrate before Lucius, his voice a mixture of abject terror, worship, and sycophancy. His meticulously groomed white fur twitched with the effort of pleasing his master. Beside him, Nightlord Sneek, lean and lethal in his black garb, stood silent and poised.
Neither of these clans had dispatched independent fleets to expand their own nests. The Grey Seers were tasked with the propagation of the faith, while Clan Eshin ensured that loyalty to the Great Horned Rat remained absolute.
This strategic pairing was highly effective. The Grey Seers remained loyal because the faith and power of the Great Horned Rat were the bedrock of their own exalted status. Clan Eshin remained loyal because of the intrinsic discipline of their assassins. Thus, these two became the Left and Right Claws of the Great Horned Rat, feared by all other clans.
Lucius ignored them, treading toward the spiral staircase that led to the Great Bell of Skaven, a monumental icon he had personally overseen.
"Dammit... I can feel the essence of the Warp drawing closer." Lucius remained swathed in his heavy black robes, maintaining his human silhouette, but his ears rang with the buzzing, discordant whispers of the Empyrean.
Visions flickered before his eyes. He saw beautiful forms dancing in a mad revelry; a rotting garden where foul denizens frolicked in decay; a shimmering Crystal Labyrinth of shifting light; and a brass throne atop a volcano of skulls where a colossal figure sat in silent judgment.
"Tch... can my eyes truly see the Immaterium itself now?" Lucius shook his head, yet the hallucinations persisted.
Rrip—
As Lucius neared the bronze bell, the black robes he had worn for centuries began to shred.
From his brow, a pair of sharp, twisted horns erupted through the fabric. Then another pair followed... until a crown of massive, spiraling horns, like those of a twisted ram, unfurled like grasping fingers.
His frame grew taller and more slender, gaining a meter in height with every stride. The robes fell away to reveal a body covered in pale, greyish fur.
Finally, Lucius stood beneath the Great Bell. Ten meters tall, crowned with the twisted horns that the Skaven held in such holy awe, his head was a pale, specimen-like skull of a giant rat. For the first time, he revealed his true aspect to the teeming masses of Zavka.
"This... this is… The True One! The Great Horned Rat! YES-YES! There is no mistake-error!"
Lords Sneek and Kritislik fell to their knees, trembling. Even the ice-cold Nightlord Sneek felt his frame shudder; his soul was utterly submerged in a tide of adoration and primal fear. To witness the birth of a Chaos God was a glory beyond the comprehension of mortal creatures.
The perennially gloomy skies of Zavka turned pitch black. Great chunks of Warpstone began to rain from the firmament like hail. Within the dark clouds, a titanic visage of the Great Horned Rat parted the mists to peer down at the bell.
Lucius knew that was his Warp-projection, his shadow in the Empyrean.
Crack-thrum—
Lucius looked down at his corded, muscular, yet lithe body. A slight movement produced a series of sharp cracks. His form had changed, but his consciousness remained steady.
"Proclaim to all vermin-kind: The Great Horned Rat has returned!"
Lucius spoke, and the titanic face in the sky echoed his words. The sound was like a world-spanning vox-caster, sending every Skaven on the planet into a state of frenzied panic and zeal.
"Yes, yes! Great Horned Rat! Oh, Great and Supreme One! YES-YES! All vermin, all-all shall know the great-great news immediately! YES-YES!!" the Seer Lord shrieked, striking his head against the stone in manic laughter.
Nightlord Sneek remained prostrate, already formulating the orders to his Eshin Assassins to summon the clan leaders to witness this divine ascension.
"Wait. I have boons for you."
Lucius raised a hand, stopping them. He gathered a concentrated surge of Chaos energy and hurled it directly at the two lords.
Instantly, Sneek and Kritislik erupted in agonized screams. The black-furred assassin and the white-furred seer rolled on the ground, losing all dignity as they tore at their own pelts as if trying to skin themselves alive.
The surrounding Grey Seers and Eshin masters squealed in terror. They could not understand why their god would punish his most loyal claws. Fear took hold. Was the Great Horned Rat looking for replacements?
But Nightlord Sneek, the superior of the legendary Deathmaster Snikch, was the first to endure the agony. The ninja-lord's muscles and bones elongated until he stood six meters tall. Four pairs of twisted horns erupted from his skull, mirroring Lucius's own divine form.
On the other side, Kritislik finally rose. Like Sneek, he had been reborn.
"Ah... YES-YES! This power, ahahaha!" Kritislik stared at his rejuvenated body. It was light, powerful, and whole, a far cry from the broken frame he had sustained through Warpstone elixirs.
He quickly recovered himself, kneeling before Lucius. "Praise! Praise the Great Horned Rat!!"
"Praise you, my Lord," Sneek added, his voice low and controlled despite the surging power. To never abandon the Way of the Assassin, that was Sneek's professional discipline.
Lucius nodded. "From this moment, you two are my first Greater Daemons. Sneek, Lord of the Death-Blight. Kritislik, Lord of the Fanatic-Plague. Tell the vermin-kind: Worship me, and I shall not be stingy with my rewards!"
"By your command!"
"Yes, my Lord."
Meanwhile, within the domains of the Four Powers of the Warp:
Khorne, seated upon his Brass Throne, opened his eyes in disgust. His voice, like a tectonic shift, rumbled: "Why does this foul stench feel so familiar? Hmph!"
In the Crystal Labyrinth, a headless blue avian shifted its gaze, continuing its grand design even as it muttered: "Treachery is not the same as a scheme."
In the manse within Nurgle's Garden, Grandfather Nurgle, stirring a pot of pox-porridge for Isha, tapped his ladle against the cauldron in irritation: "My lovely viruses bring decay. Death-cold is not my purpose."
But the strongest reaction came from the Dark Prince within the Palace of Slaanesh. The Slaaneshi daemons and mortals dancing to the discordant music were jolted as the Prince stood abruptly.
The Dark Prince scanned the horizon with wide eyes, whispering in confusion: "Another upstart god? But why do I feel he could... supplant me? Impossible. It must be Tzeentch playing his games. Hmph... one day, I shall break your labyrinth to decorate my ballroom!"
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