Chapter 34 Tzeentch We're Doomed!

This Guy is an Outer God!

34: Chapter 34: Tzeentch: We’re Doomed!

This Guy is an Outer God!

Sorry for the late upload guys, I thought I had already posted today’s chapter’s.

— The sewers beneath Phodia Hive City were freezing, damp, and suffocatingly claustrophobic.

The ancient brickwork was caked in a thick layer of black slime and bioluminescent mold, while the sluggishly flowing wastewater radiated a truly eye-watering stench.

And yet, even in a place this utterly vile, the cockroaches of humanity thrived.

The cultists of Tzeentch held their clandestine gatherings here, meeting periodically in a widened maintenance junction deep within the sewer network.

Today was one of those days.

In the suffocating darkness, over a dozen figures shrouded in heavy black robes huddled around a single, pitifully dim lantern, arguing in hushed, nervous tones.

“Are we absolutely sure about the Forefather?” “Is he genuinely on our side?” “I don’t know, this entire situation feels incredibly absurd.

It feels like a trap.” Hearing his fellow cultists openly question Vane, Johnny flared with immediate, self-righteous indignation.

Questioning the Forefather is basically questioning me!

Do they honestly think I can’t tell who is truly loyal to the Changer of Ways and who isn’t?!

“The Forefather can actively manifest the divine blessings of the Changer of Ways.

That alone is absolute proof of his supreme devotion!” Johnny hissed, glaring at the dissenters.

“Every single one of you claims to be a faithful servant of the Great Conspirator, yet which one of you has ever received a direct blessing?!” “You don’t even have a fraction of His favor, yet you dare to question the authenticity of a man who wields it freely?!” Johnny’s aggressive reprimand effectively shut up the vast majority of the cultists, but a few stubbornly dug their heels in.

“We aren’t questioning his power, Johnny.

We’re questioning his actions,” a cultist dressed like an Administratum scholar argued, stepping into the dim light.

“Everything the Forefather has done so far has exclusively benefited the Corpse-Emperor’s rotting dominion!” Hearing this, several other cultists began murmuring in agreement, nodding at the scholar’s logic.

“Bullshit!” Johnny aggressively pointed a finger at the scholar.

“You literally work in the Departmento Munitorum’s propaganda division!

Your day job is writing daily hymns praising the Corpse-Emperor!

If the Forefather doesn’t look like a cultist, do you?!” The scholar’s face instantly flushed crimson beneath his hood.

Thoroughly humiliated, he slinked back into the shadows.

“It seems being overly competent inevitably breeds suspicion.” Vane casually stepped out of the absolute darkness, stopping right in front of the huddled cultists.

Using the Idol of Tzeentch, he had effortlessly gaslit Johnny into believing he was a High Magus, manipulating the man into bringing him to this local cell meeting.

Vane’s strategy for dealing with the Chaos Cults was refreshingly simple: become their supreme leader, demand a full organizational roster, and then violently execute every single one of them.

Seeing him suddenly manifest out of the shadows, the terrified cultists scrambled backward, instinctively clearing a path.

Vane strolled through the parted crowd with the casual arrogance of a king, stopping directly in the center of the junction.

“Forefather…

do you truly worship the Changer of Ways?” one of the braver cultists stammered.

“Naturally.

My devotion to the Architect of Fate is absolute,” Vane replied smoothly.

Like a street magician, he casually whipped out the Idol of Tzeentch and spammed a massive, localized AoE blessing over the entire group.

Witnessing the undeniable, reality-warping manifestation of Tzeentchian magic, every single cultist who had harbored even a microsecond of doubt was instantly and completely convinced.

He literally hands out the God’s blessings!

How could he possibly be a fake?!

With the crowd thoroughly mesmerized, Vane looked around the pitch-black, suffocatingly small sewer junction and deeply furrowed his brow.

“Seriously, is the cult’s funding really this tight?

Why don’t you guys have more lights?” Johnny immediately stepped forward, bowing respectfully as he answered.

“It is not a matter of funding, Forefather.

We are the devoted servants of the Changer of Ways, and the Changer of Ways is the supreme master of conspiracy.” “In all the holovids and plays, the masterminds plotting grand conspiracies always meet in terrifyingly dark, shadowy locations, correct?” “Therefore, we explicitly chose this location and intentionally only brought a single lantern.

It perfectly maximizes the conspiratorial atmosphere.” The other cultists immediately nodded in agreement, actually looking rather proud of their interior design choices.

“Exactly!

By discussing our plans in the deepest shadows, we truly embody the unfathomable, string-pulling masterminds operating behind the veil of reality!” Vane: “…” Are you kidding me?

The Chaos Cults are prioritizing aesthetic immersion now?!

What’s next?

Are they going to start assigning quarterly KPI targets for localized heresy?!

“Put some more lights up.

It’s so pitch-black in here that an Inquisitorial spy could literally be standing next to you, and you wouldn’t even know.” “As you command.” Several cultists sheepishly pulled additional lanterns from beneath their robes and hung them on the damp brick walls.

The gloomy sewer junction was instantly flooded with light.

Vane casually swept his gaze across the illuminated faces.

He instantly recognized one of them.

It was a mid-ranking Imperial official who had been formally invited to the floating city to witness the activation of the Beacon.

Good lord.

The Imperium is literally a sieve.

No wonder they lose every single war against Chaos!

I guarantee you, the absolute microsecond the High Lords of Terra finalize a classified military campaign, Abaddon is already reading the PDF file on his data-slate.

Thank God I decided to aggressively purge these cultists early.

If I had left for Baal to resurrect Sanguinius while these guys were still active, they absolutely would have sabotaged the Beacon City the second I was out of the system.

The sheer comedic irony would have been unbearable.

Keeping his expression perfectly composed, Vane decided to play along until he had successfully acquired the master roster of every cultist in the sector.

“The reason I have graced you with my presence today is that I have received a direct, infallible revelation from the Changer of Ways.

He has decreed that we must seize absolute control of this entire star system.” “Whether they be the rotting claws of the Corpse-Emperor, or the pathetic, deluded followers of the other three Ruinous Powers, they must all be completely eradicated.” “Starting from this exact moment, your singular, overriding objective is to aggressively gather intelligence on the local cults of Khorne, Nurgle, and Slaanesh.

Find their hideouts.

We are going to wipe them out.” “But…

what about the Corpse-Emperor’s forces?” asked the scholar who had questioned Vane earlier.

“Relax.

Given my current public standing within the Imperium, the Corpse-Emperor’s forces are basically our personal army.

I will systematically promote all of you into the highest-ranking, most critical positions across the Cryptus System.” “And just like that, the Corpse-Emperor’s own armies will be fighting exclusively for the Changer of Ways.” Hearing Vane’s master plan, the cultists’ eyes practically glowed with fanatical worship.

As expected of the Forefather!

His mastery of political manipulation and grand conspiracy is simply on a level we cannot comprehend!

— Simultaneously, deep within the Impossible Fortress at the absolute center of the Crystal Labyrinth in the Warp.

Tzeentch instantly detected the massive, unauthorized spatial anomaly.

Someone was explicitly bypassing His divine firewall and directly siphoning power from the Domain of Change again!

He immediately locked onto the spatial coordinates: the Cryptus System.

It’s the exact same location as last time!

The previous time this happened, the Cryptus System was completely smothered by the Tyranid Shadow in the Warp, preventing Him from seeing exactly who was spoofing His IP address.

This time, however, He was absolutely determined to catch this arrogant thief.

The last guy who tried to steal power from a Chaos God got his spine shattered by Horus and has been rotting on a Golden Throne for ten thousand years!

Peering through the crystalline walls of His labyrinth, Tzeentch’s gaze pierced the veil of reality, zooming straight into the sewers of Phodia Hive City, instantly locking onto Vane.

This mortal human actually calls himself a ‘Forefather’ and is actively using My divine brand to run a localized pyramid scheme?

What a fascinatingly audacious specimen.

Let us see exactly where you come from, little mortal.

How are you bypassing My divine authority to wield the magic of Change?

Focusing His absolute, omniscient gaze on Vane, Tzeentch forcefully grabbed the human’s thread of fate and violently traced it backward through time and reality.

His vision violently tore through the boundaries of the Warhammer universe, crashing into an ancient, incomprehensibly vast, and deeply terrifying dimension.

The dimension was an infinite, absolute void.

There was literally nothing there…

except for a colossal, impossibly majestic throne composed entirely of perfectly cubic blocks.

Seated upon the throne was a blurred, impossibly dark silhouette.

Tzeentch couldn’t comprehend any physical details.

All He could perceive were two blinding, pure white, rectangular eyes…

and a slowly rotating block hovering in the entity’s hand.

The absolute microsecond Tzeentch’s gaze fell upon the figure, the entity seemed to notice.

The silhouette slowly turned its blocky head, locking its pure white, rectangular eyes directly onto Tzeentch.

The instant their gazes met, Tzeentch—a literal, omnipotent Chaos God—was violently slammed by a wave of incomprehensible, metaphysical terror.

It was a pressure so absolute, so fundamentally overwhelming, that He instinctively severed the connection and violently recoiled.

He genuinely couldn’t explain why He was so terrified.

He just had the overwhelming, instinctual certainty that if He maintained eye contact for one microsecond longer, that entity would casually reach across dimensions and smash His crystalline head into pieces with that block.

This…

this entity is a Supreme Outer God from an entirely different dimension!

And the sheer, ontological pressure it emits is absolutely terrifying!

But wait…

if this guy is an omnipotent Outer God, why is he stooping to the level of pretending to be My mortal cultist?!!

Is…

is he infiltrating My cult because he plans to usurp the Domain of Change and steal My divine authority?!

Profound confusion and genuine, creeping anxiety flooded Tzeentch’s mind.

After agonizing over the situation, He decided the only safe course of action was to look into the man’s future.

Tracing his past was absolutely out of the question.

If He looked at that blocky silhouette one more time, the Outer God might actually just hop dimensions and kill Him.

Using the strands of fate, Tzeentch carefully avoided looking directly at Vane.

Instead, He used Dante, Seth, and the other mortals as localized anchors to safely observe fragments of Vane’s future.

As Tzeentch manipulated the strands, countless fractured possibilities materialized, showcasing the man’s inevitable destiny.

The very first temporal fragment Tzeentch witnessed showed the man standing in the center of Nurgle’s rotting plague-mansion.

The man was currently holding Khorne—the Blood God, the Lord of Skulls—by the back of the neck, and was violently, repeatedly dunking Khorne’s head into Nurgle’s most toxic, feces-filled plague cauldron like a high school bully giving a swirly.

Tzeentch: “…”