Bzzzz—!
The heavens above were like a suffocating blanket. From the rotting, yellowed skies over [Nurgle]'s Garden, purple-red tassels poured downward like a burning veil, accompanied by roaring flames and the wails of Nurgle's creations.
The Great Unclean One could feel it—a gaze of pure malice seeping from the heavens, corroding Grandfather's sacred garden.
Rumble—!
Blinding violet light split the sky. A piercing, ghostly shriek echoed as space-time itself shattered within the God of Disease and Plague's domain.
Whoosh—!
From above, a storm of violet-red fire descended. The blast wave swept outward like a sea of burning chaos, engulfing the daemons near the Great Unclean One, spreading from the corpse of its rotting kin—once banished during the Battle of Cadia, now reborn—into every direction, annihilating every plague plant and Nurgle beast it touched.
All was reduced to ash!
"Oh… praise Grandfather. Bless the life that endures through suffering and stands strong in decay."
Even as destruction closed in, even as the radiant flames corroded the body of its resurrected kin, the Great Unclean One's heart remained full of absolute compassion. It shielded as many untainted Nurglings as it could behind its mountainous bulk, raising its decayed, tree-trunk flail to resist the blasphemous invader desecrating Grandfather's garden.
Riiip—!
But its resistance was futile. Meaningless.
Crack!
The Great Unclean One's grotesque face froze in pain. It could feel it—its once eternal, undying vitality as Grandfather's herald, the proud spreader of the Gospel of Decay, now fading rapidly. For the first time, unbearable agony flooded its swollen heart.
Its consciousness dimmed. Its soul was being overwritten. In the hollow void of oblivion, it faintly sensed a thunderous, shrieking voice proclaiming the arrival of something dreadful from the heavens above.
Countless screams rose in anguish and despair—the dying embers of existence weeping for rebirth and freedom that would never come.
A presence echoed across the Warp's essence—something more hateful than any curse, prouder and fierier than the Blood God, colder than the Changer of Ways, and greedier than the Prince of Excess.
"Such courage… truly, a merciful Great Unclean One. [Nurgle]'s child—follow your Grandfather into eternal sleep. There shall be no escape… and no rest."
The Fifth Chaos God had chosen [Nurgle]'s Garden as Its new dominion. A burning, violet-red wall of fire heralded a storm of Imaginary Energy that tore toward the black citadel at the garden's heart. The storm—of flame, thunder, waves, and otherworldly power—devoured everything it touched.
ROOOAAAAR—!!
As though answering this intrusion that dared provoke the divine, a roar of fury and decay erupted from the depths of the Garden. It was wet, rotten, and soul-shaking. Time itself seemed to halt—for there was no other sound left in existence, only the thunderous wrath of the God of Disease and Plague.
Across the breadth of [Nurgle]'s Garden, the skies trembled. The enormous, furry flies born of pestilence froze midair, their wings stilled, their bodies tumbling lifelessly to the ground.
Fungal growths ceased their spore-spewing and closed their petals like frightened hearts. Under the dim, foul skies, the once vivid red, blue, yellow, and purple blossoms dimmed, their colors fading into lifeless gray. The chirping and scuttling of insects fell silent—the digging and crawling ceased.
The once chaotic, vibrant, grotesquely fertile garden withered in an instant. The murky yellow-green sky cleared.
For the first time ever, Grandfather [Nurgle]'s forbidden realm lay open—fully exposed beneath the gaze of an intruder from beyond.
Beneath a canopy of half-eaten leaves, devoured by insects, the decaying branches and the tangled vines intertwined like a single organism, spreading across the rotting ground below. Countless daemons of [Nurgle] cowered or trembled upon the blighted earth—even the manifested form of [Nurgle] Himself, the Great Unclean Ones, were no exception.
In the depths of the garden stood an immense, seemingly endless black citadel. Within it rose seven ruined yet eternally steadfast castles—ancient and decayed, their foundations embedded in moldy soil. They were grotesque fusions of rotted timber and crumbling stone, their windows split apart by withered tendrils that reached outward like dying fingers.
No splendor, no glory remained.
It was an art beyond endurance, beyond description, beyond comprehension—true [Nurgle]an artistry.
Now, the gates and one window of the citadel stood open. Below them, a presence watched in rage.
Beneath the sagging beams and drooping arches, something began to emerge from the tumor-like, infinitely swollen darkness at the heart of the hall. Like oil, it spread upward.
The God of Disease and Plague—[Nurgle]—ceased stirring His maggot-clogged ladle. From before His colossal cauldron—a vessel vast enough to contain all the oceans of every world in the cosmos—He slowly rose.
The benevolent shadow of rot extended a tender hand, lifting His beloved child from the brink of destruction—half its form evaporated, corroded, collapsing, tainted even by the scent of His own divine stench.
"What hast thou done…?"
Growling low, at last, the master of the garden moved His swollen, decayed body, stepping away from the cauldron that He had not left in an age. His round, dim eyes—like twin blackened, dying stars—blazed with fury that could make all life wither.
The swamps and forests that but a moment ago had been alive with playful Nurglings and the sweet stench of decay, the beautiful, pestilent green waters, the plants He had lovingly brewed and tended—all of it had been incinerated in an instant of searing heat, transformed into a crystalline forest of dazzling violet and red.
It radiated unbearable heat, like the heart of a molten furnace.
Nearly one-seventh of His domain had been rewritten. Across the endless expanse, the newborn white-and-violet [Warp] daemons filled His yellowed gaze.
White, silicon-like shells; bodies of glowing crimson and violet light—they roared across what had once been His garden, trampling and expanding the violet Imaginary dimensions without restraint. They were arrogant, unrepentant, and defiant—as though He were already dead.
The joyous, melancholic beauty of His swampy paradise was consumed by flame and torn apart. Infinite arcs of light surged outward as the ground split open. The half-daemonic plants of Nurgle collapsed in heaps, and the agonized cries of slain Nurglings echoed endlessly.
Boom—!
[Nurgle] bellowed in sorrow and rage, "What hast thou done?!"
His massive belly struck the cauldron, and its thick legs quivered beneath the impact.
Viscous slime spilled over the rim. Its sweet aroma sent the Nurglings dwelling within His pustules and boils into a frenzy—they screamed with desire, unable to restrain themselves.
His roar shook not only His entire garden but the neighboring realms of the other Chaos Gods as well.
"Show thyself! Come before Me!"
Raising His gaze to the skies, His voice carried the sorrow of a grieving father, filled with pain and wrath.
Bzzzzzzz—!
The violet-red sky began to shimmer with streaks of gold—threads of divine color spreading as if in response.
The plague-ridden lands boiled and rebelled against the invading geometric realm, and in turn, the crystalline domain of violet light expanded once again.
Space and time trembled. Amid endless black rifts, shapes began to descend—some bearing spears and shields like knights, others wielding lances of light, or encircled by radiant blades. Towering beasts with limbs like pillars of heaven, and phantom figures with humanlike forms—all poured down in an endless storm.
It was the aftermath of an interdimensional vortex—cosmic laws condensed into a single majestic form, whose fingers, like comets, reached to grasp the void.
Even the sun seemed crushed beneath that impossible grandeur, and the stars went dark.
Magnificent beyond words—and yet, terrifying beyond measure.
Between two worlds, Selene gazed down upon the mold-covered expanse below, upon the mire drenched in yellow-green slime and filth.
Tch… The stench truly was unbearable—but what a warm, affectionate family.
Just as the Great Unclean Ones treated their followers as precious treasures—calling them their children and guiding their rotting servants with paternal indulgence—so too did [Nurgle] love His own creations.
Unlike the other Chaos Gods, [Nurgle] was beloved among His faithful. [Khorne] demanded brutal trials that culled the weak; [Tzeentch] regarded all beings as pawns; [Slaanesh] saw life only as tools of pleasure. Whether Chaos God or Emperor, all had their preferences and their cruelties.
Only [Nurgle] accepted all. He never turned away a single worshipper.
He embraced all mortals without discrimination—whether old or young, good or evil, sick or dying, strong or feeble—in His eyes, all were equal. Like a gentle father guiding His beloved child.
And it was precisely this compassion that Selene exploited.
On Cadia, all four Chaos Gods had lost countless followers—but why, within [Warp], was [Nurgle]'s realm the most saturated with Honkai Energy, while the other three lay barren, almost empty?
Because only [Nurgle] had reclaimed nearly all His defeated, humiliated children.
As for the others—whether out of pride, suspicion, or cruelty—they had slaughtered their own. [Khorne], [Tzeentch], and [Slaanesh] were no more merciful than the Imperium of Man itself.
Selene looked directly at the God of Disease and Plague.
From within the black citadel emerged despair, stagnation, death, and decay—the embodiment of all mortal corruption. With every step, His form swelled, His presence bending heaven and earth, releasing a scorching miasma.
His body was a grotesque mass of green, necrotic flesh—its surface ruptured with pus-filled sores, bloated tumors, and crawling parasites.
"This shall be a war without end!"
Even a clay idol has its temper. And even among the Chaos Gods, the most patient—[Nurgle]—could no longer restrain Himself.
At first, He had watched Selene's intrusion with a certain curiosity. A new god meant change, meant new life—new believers, new plagues, new diseases, and new things to nurture. Even if the balance among the four gods of [Warp] was disrupted, it did not matter.
When He realized He could not corrupt Selene, and that Selene had already ascended as a Chaos God, [Nurgle] had withdrawn from the assault.
Though His realm suffered encroachment and dilution, He cared little. The ones who should have worried were [Khorne] and [Slaanesh], for Selene's corruption touched their domains far more deeply.
But He had not expected this—that a simple act of compassion, an answer to the desperate prayers of His warlike followers and Abaddon's supplication, would bring such calamity.
After the battle of Cadia, every daemon banished to the Warp would eventually revive within its own realm. [Nurgle] could feel that His children had been tainted by something alien.
He had never intended to abandon them. With the boundless love of a father, He had sought to heal them—carefully brewing new broth, hoping to restore their strength.
It was a noble wish.
But Selene gave Him no chance.
Her strike had been merciless—a wound to His pride, a desecration of His love. She had hurt His children. She had burned His garden. The insult was intolerable.
"...Perfect. Rotting remnant, your time is over. Whether you hide within your garden or your cauldron, I shall tear you from the turning of stars and moons. I shall burn you away—like sterilization by fire. I shall slay your kin, scorch your pestilent marshes, and reduce your plague fields to cinders."
Selene spoke with the cold finality of a sovereign judge, closing her hand as though [Nurgle]'s garden already lay within her grasp. Her sharp, imperious gaze swept across the battlefield of Nurgle's daemons and Honkai Beasts.
"Rejoice, for the dead rise, and welcome the Father of Plagues!"
Within the garden, plagues and Imaginary Energy intertwined. Countless Nurgle daemons, beset by the newborn servants of the rising Chaos God, looked upward toward the heavens—where their benevolent, corpulent lord stood against the encroaching deity of Ruin and Honkai. Their praise, their roars, their screams filled the air—
But in the next instant, they froze, like quails caught in the grasp of fate's invisible hand.
For the true higher-dimensional cataclysm had arrived.
It was a realm beyond their reach.
Within the higher dimensions of [Warp], the collision of Chaos Gods unleashed a storm of annihilation that rippled across the physical universe.
[Finality] and [Nurgle]—the annihilating light of a dying star clashing with the bloated decay of plague. The waves of an infinite Warp storm surged, reality twisted and buckled, and time itself screamed as the battle began.
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