Legend tells that the realm of the Great Horned Rat is filled with countless wonders—relics and holy artifacts of a dozen races cast into piles of filthy refuse, where rats scurry over them, leaving stains and claw-marks. Trash and treasure are one and the same; such is the Great Horned Rat's twisted humor.
"My Lord, I bring you a gift."
Sneek returned to the Divine Realm of the Horned Rat, offering the Dissonance Engine with both hands to the deity atop the Blight-Throne.
"Well done, my Claw." Lucius looked down at Sneek, who was no larger than a fingernail compared to his true form, and the massive, concentric mechanical device. With a gesture, he summoned the Dissonance Engine. Vashtorr had launched the entire Arks of Omen campaign across the galaxy just for this key. Now, the artifact capable of unlocking the Old Ones' dimensional vault was in Lucius's grasp.
Be'lakor, existing as a mass of shifting shadows, stared at the object with eyes full of avarice. "I can bring that artifact to fruition for you," he hissed. "I can find the vault, destroy the Empire of Man, and even secure your place within the Great Game!"
Lucius's baleful green eyes shifted. From the maw of his horned skull came a somber, mocking laugh. "Oh... pathetic Be'lakor. Have you still not abandoned your delusions? You shall never succeed. Heh heh heh..."
Lucius did not believe a mere artifact could destroy the Imperium, let alone elevate a demi-god like Vashtorr to the status of the Chaos Four. Even the Great Horned Rat had only earned his place as a Fifth Chaos God after the destruction of the Old World. In the most recent lore, the Horned Rat had ascended from a racial deity to an elemental god of Murder, Mutation, Madness, and Pestilence. Lucius intended to follow that established path, not rely on obscure relics.
"However... this device will allow my children to spread my faith and madness throughout the galaxy with greater finesse," Lucius said, before tossing the Dissonance Engine back to the kneeling Sneek as if it were common trash.
"Take it, rat-spawn... Your blades require a more perfect stage."
Giving the Engine to Clan Eshin was the optimal choice. As a Chaos God, Lucius had no need for the device himself, and he cared nothing for the vault. Clan Eshin, however, could use it to cast their shadows across the entire galaxy, ensuring that the Skaven assassins who once terrorized the Old World would once again be omnipresent.
"I thank you for your bounty, my Lord."
Sneek caught the device with cautious reverence, his red eyes flickering. He was already calculating how the Horned Rat expected him to use this tool, how the blades of Eshin could best fulfill their mission. While Skaven are notoriously treacherous, the loyalty of Clan Eshin, aside from the rigid, militaristic discipline of Clan Mors, was as legendary as their assassination arts.
Even before his transformation, Lucius had a penchant for Eshin assassins, particularly Sneek's iconic three-blade style. Lucius looked around his realm and snatched a handful of wandering Skaven souls. With an infusion of Chaos power, these souls let out horrific shrieks!
They transformed into tall Vermin Herders. Unlike the Skryre variants with warp-exoskeletons, these wore robes as black as night and wielded daggers or Weeping Claws that glowed with a sickly green light.
"This is your reward... rat-spawn. When your mortal flesh serves me, your souls shall be sublimated into higher beings!"
Lucius sat upon his throne, watching the newly ascended Eshin Vermin Herders prostrate themselves in silent, steadfast devotion, a stark contrast to the Skryre herders who offered sacrifices of toxic smog and engine roars. Sneek's eyes gleamed; the Nightlord knew that while Skryre earned protection through their contributions to the Great Skaven Crusade, Eshin had now earned their place through the theft of the Dissonance Engine. The Horned Rat's favor and fury were always sudden.
"Begone, rat-spawn."
Lucius waved them away. Once the Death-Blight Lord returned to the mortal realm, Lucius stood up and laughed mockingly at Be'lakor. "Be'lakor, look upon the face of that fool Vashtorr. How utterly ridiculous!"
Watching the Arkifane fail was one of Lucius's primary goals. On Wyrmwood, Vashtorr was doomed to disappointment. In the Warp, the Four Gods watched the unfolding drama with curious eyes. They knew Vashtorr's plan from the start but were too amused by the spectacle to interfere. Khorne had even sent Angron simply to ensure the war remained bloody. Be'lakor, though denied the vault, enjoyed the mockery as much as he enjoyed his own schemes.
Meanwhile, on Wyrmwood.
The First Primarch, Lion El'Jonson, had emerged with his Risen to save his sons from Angron's slaughter. He battled his daemonic brother, finally banishing Angron after a titanic struggle. But before the Dark Angels could celebrate their father's return, the entirety of Wyrmwood began to convulse. The screech of grinding metal was loud enough to kill mortals; ancient vox-grilles blasted furious sonic waves that shattered the bones of any nearby.
The Master of the Soul Forge, the demi-god Vashtorr, was in a state of absolute, incandescent rage.
"MY KEY! MY KE-E-EY!!!"
The daemons within the Soul Forge cowered in terror, but the other Chaos Gods roared with laughter, as if watching a clown trip over his own feet just as his performance reached its climax.
The Four Gods laughed for their own amusement, but Lucius had a different intent. Like the original Horned Rat, he had sabotaged Vashtorr to seize his authority over a very specific place in the Warp: The Soul Forge.
Lucius stood. Countless rats the size of bull-calves emerged from the corners of the Realm of Ruin. The Vermin Herders brought forth their daemonic creations.
Though he had only recently ascended to godhood, Lucius had decided: the first War of the Gods begins now!