Chapter 2: Be A Sneaky Git
"AAAAHHHHHH!" Clifford ran, rushing through the Warp as the monsters of nightmare and pain chased him. "STAY BACK YOU PERVERSE PIECES OF SHIT! YOUR BREATH REEKS LIKE A MTG NIGHTMARE CHALLENGER'S ASS!"
As Clifford ran for his life he began to notice that he felt more like he was flying, not so much as running. He then began to notice that he wasn't actually pumping any arms as he ran. Scratch that, he didn't have any arms that he could visibly see. See. Holy shit! Not able to really wrap his head around it, Clifford finally realized he, for whatever reason, somehow, had a full 360 degree field of view in this nightmarish hell hole, allowing him to see all of those hideous, nightmarish creatures swarming in towards him from all sides.
"FUCK OFF ALREADY!" He screamed, fear, grievance, despair, regret, and rage soaking his voice just as three leathery scaled creatures with fangs, horns, too many weird colored eyes, and wicked claws reached out for him.
As he imagined shoving the monstrosities away, a surge of energy pulsed from him. His eyes widened, metaphorically speaking, as an energy of silvery grey, vibrant green, and deep blue burst forth from whatever shape his existence was currently. The closest nightmares shrieked in pain and terror as the energy devoured them, like a living flame before they ceased to exist and the wave continued forward, devouring twenty some more of the creatures before stopping about 30 meters away from Clifford.
Pausing, Clifford looked on dumbfounded before he felt himself shiver, the energy surging back into him. He could intrinsically feel himself grow larger, noticing that a small distance around him in this hellscape had seemed to somewhat calm itself. "The fuck?!"
He looked about himself, noticing other monstrosities having drawn near pausing as they witnessed him devour those of similar rank before they turned and fled, finally leaving him alone within this void. 'Uh. So now what do I do?'
Taking a moment to pause, Clifford decided to focus on the first immediate action of trying to understand what had happened to him. As fluid time passed unknowingly to him and to all, he finally realized that he had 1) died and 2) arrived in this hell hole thanks to The Beast.
"NO!!! MY SON!! YOU HAVE BETRAYED ME! WHY!!!!" Clifford's cry echoed out into the void as he imagined himself smacking his desk in grief. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DESTROY BAD LAG, NOT JOIN THEM AGAINST ME!!!!!"
After releasing his rage Clifford finally began to calm himself, focusing on the task of importance: Survival.
He began attempting to observe himself, trying to figure out what exactly he had become. As time passed he discovered that his existence was fluid, allowing him to change his shape to whatever he imagined, though his subconscious appeared to divert his form to a slim humanoid shape made of flickering green 0s and 1s, tendrils of dark blue energy, and black metallic sheets that made up parts of his body, though specifically forming a face plate with electrical fangs and green eyes.
'I look cool as hell!' He grinned to himself before pausing, noticing the broiling and clashing storm tendrils of blue, purple, red, green, and even a smaller storm tendril of metallic grey all tearing towards his location. 'Fuck This Shit I'm Out! Never Coming Back!'
Clifford bolted, and as he fled he noticed his form began to sprout wings matching his original aesthetic, flapping and somewhat increasing his speed as he tried to out run the terrifying clashing storms behind him, almost thinking he could hear sentient screams mixing in both begging for mercy and salvation AND whispering for him to stop, rest, become one with them.
"Nope! Nope! Can't hear you!" He screamed while fleeing into the hellscape. Eventually they stopped giving chase, though confusion marred his conscience. Stealthily, he turned back, sneaking to inspect what these things were and what had caused them to turn away.
He froze in shock as his mind finally processed what he was seeing, memories of pictures and stories that overlooked what he was gazing upon. A small, golden sun stood atop a mountain, surrounded by the storms. He was too far to hear what exactly was being conveyed between them all, but the terror in his heart only grew stronger from what he saw alone.
The red storm eventually coalesced into a multi-horned, heavily armored demonic visage sitting upon a brass throne atop a pile of skulls. The blue storm turned into a disgusting humanoid form with a bulbous head, a multitude of eyes, nostrils, and mouths scattered about, and two long tendrils tipped with mouths rising from his shoulders to entwine above his head. The purple storm took the form of a seductively curvy naked woman, though its skin was as smooth as that of an eel while frills ran along its side; a crown of horns rested atop its head as long white hair flowed down its back, finally an eye opened where its belly button should've been. The green storm took the form of a fat, rotting blob, its body divided in two by a vertical mouth that rested its small, fanged head within. Finally, the smallest storm took the form of a metallic skeletal winged nephilim, flesh and machine mixing together in a hideous machination.
Clifford knew immediately who these were, and quickly he turned his gaze back to the sun, back to Neoth, the Emperor of Mankind, driving his thoughts to think about other topics, for instance, like chocolate, chocolate is always good. After all, everyone knew that to know of Their names, histories, secrets; one would be immediately doomed for an eternity of pain and torment far worse than any local from this universe. And so, Clifford didn't wish to take the risk of finding out what would happen if he so much as thought Their names, let alone speak Them.
'The secret dealing! The grand plan to create the Primarchs! Gotta get the hell out of dodge!' While They were all distracted having Their deal and sharing Their knowledge, Clifford immediately turned and bolted, intending to put as much distance between him and Them, after all, They'd soon be god hunting shortly.
'But… Humanity… my family… If I ended up here in the Warp after dying, then they most certainly will, have, and have already ended up here. I have to save them!' As he ran, his thoughts came to him, causing his logic to slightly pause in understanding as his "eyes" widened in comprehension. 'I'm still human, no matter what. For humanity, to save my family, I can use my knowledge to change the script, to end those parasites and free us all! But how?'
'Okay, it'll take a little while for the Primarch souls to be gathered. I could use that time to continue fleeing and attempt splitting my soul so as to leave part of it here to be hopefully chosen while the other half slithers further into the Warp to continue mastering my situation and see if I have any abilities. It could work. Heck, I could even save most of the Primarchs then.'
'No. You IDIOT, They wipe everything from the souls, leaving them as clean slates for the project. Big E had to trick them into doing that or else He'd never be able to convince the Primarchs they were His sons, human, and to hopefully trick them into fighting and beating those soul parasites! If I leave a part of my soul, THAT'S IT! IT'S GONE! NADA! … How! How! How do I go about affecting everything?'
'If I stay in the Warp alone, using the Big Guy to keep Them distracted, I'll have a slow progression due to having to keep quite, just like Them AND having any Materium forces being purged during The Great Crusade! It doesn't get any better from there due to the 40k's faith of Him as a God and Them never willing to share the pie amongst the chaos They create. I NEED to get a hold of a Primarch, preferably as myself… Oh… that might just be it… Yes… It may be the only way… though how do I get past Him?'
'No. I don't need to sneak past Him. I just need to convince Him of my sincerity, my conviction, my truth, and He may just open the door for me Himself.'
'I have at most a couple of years. He needs to perfect their bodies even if He ends up fetching the souls right now. Quickly. Quickly. Stealth and sneak is the only way! … Maybe I should paint myself in generic purple for that little extra buff?'