Chapter 60 Tzeentch: Brothers, new cards are in the gacha pool!

"Arthur!"

Ramesses' voice echoed across the cross-world communication channel. He thoroughly pulverized the teleportation spell, blew away the sorcerer's psychic shield, and signaled his partner to shut this fellow up immediately.

What on earth was going on with this guy? Was Tzeentch's blessing some kind of true-name clairvoyance? How was his doxxing aim so terrifyingly accurate? They certainly hadn't written "I am XXX" across their foreheads, so how had he seen right through them at a single glance? If everyone operated like this, how were they supposed to survive and blend into the Imperium in the future?

Subconsciously, Ramesses swept the surrounding area with his demonic vision, exhaling a breath of relief only after confirming there were no anomalous entities present. Immediately afterward, he felt a surge of gratitude that Arthur had monopolized the ship's intelligence apparatus; at least they didn't have to live in terror of whether this conversation had been recorded and uploaded by the augur arrays.

"Received."

Clang!

The mirror surface that dropped down once more bounced back up. The knight, having finished off all the bodyguards, turned around, his ocular visors glowing with a crimson radiance.

Another close-quarters thrust.

The frost-enveloped staff unexpectedly collided with the blade, and the sorcerer's massive frame was sent flying straight back.

The terrifying suppression descended once more. A combat mode that seamlessly integrated offense and defense left the sorcerer with zero opportunity for counterattack, forcing him to rely solely on the power of precognition to barely hold on.

What use was foresight?

Crack—

Deflecting the long staff aimed at his breastplate, the defensive field flawlessly performed its duty.

The stereotypical slash, devoid of the slightest personal emotion, struck again.

Beneath an absolute disparity in power, the collision between the two could only yield one result.

Bang!

Accompanied by an unusually sharp snap, upon the ninth impact of their weapons, the crystal scepter shattered.

The knight swung his sword.

With a single stroke, he severed both arms, cutting off all avenues of counterattack.

With a second stroke, he broke both legs, leaving no path for escape.

With a third stroke, he crushed the sorcerer's vocal cords, rendering blasphemous words unspokeable.

At that moment, the Word Bearer sorcerer, still tumbling backward through mid-air, finally realized that every single fragment of the shattered mirrors reflected the exact same image—

His own defeat.

Accompanied, too, by the uproarious laughter of the Changer of Ways, echoing from the mystic realms of the Warp.

It was a puzzle whose contents had forever eluded understanding, and now, at last, a corner of the surprise had been unveiled.

"Change. This is a change even We could not foresee."

The Lord of Change let out an exclamation of wonder.

He gazed upon reality from His throne within the Labyrinth of Ninefold Lies, looking through the eyes of that reckless sorcerer. The joy brought by the sorcerer's downfall felt like a needle-prick, while those four silhouettes caught in his gaze were an unprecedented surprise.

As He manipulated His ninety thousand compound eyes to observe the quartet for the 0.09-second mark, simultaneously watching every single one of the ninety-nine fleeting moments carved out of that fraction of a second...

Each instant unfolded a labyrinth of thought within the crystal domain, with every conceivable possibility racing through its corridors.

A silent knight and a self-reflective, confident mage, a furious warrior and a calculating general.

There were corrupted ones, awakened ones, self-destructive ones, and even those who reverse-polluted the Warp itself...

Without the slightest hesitation, He scattered this intelligence among the gods.

Almost instantaneously, the remaining three deities grasped the significance of the Cursed Ones forcibly carving out a navigational lane within the Immaterium.

The entity that had plucked twenty treasures from the Warp had now concealed four brand-new prizes.

The Four Gods cast a sidelong glance at the Daemon Primarchs lingering at their sides.

The Four Gods would never sit idly by!

Their emotions stirred violent waves within the Warp, diluting the approaching shadow just a fraction.

The Changer of Ways watched all this with satisfaction.

He was weaving a web within which even He might lose His way. For He, too, had merely caught glimpses of these figures; their futures remained hidden from Him. Those so-called futures were nothing more than simulations stitched together from residual fragments, and no one could guarantee whether they held any truth.

Yet this did not prevent the Lord of Change from generously sharing the information.

His twisted body continually sprouted new tongues, chanting contradictory futures. What Tzeentch enjoyed was not the fulfillment of prophecy, but the lethal confidence that bloomed in mortals and gods alike once they believed they had grasped a "fragment of the truth."

Just like the Inquisitor clutching the head of an ancient race at this very moment, firmly convinced that he still held the situation in hand—

How adorable, that despair brewed from self-deception.

His joy had never stemmed from victory, but from the imbalance manufactured by information gaps during every single interaction between life forms.

As the gods began to scramble for the legacy of the Cursed Ones, He was carving every detail of this contention into the grand design of His grand plan.

Every decision was a lie, every lie a vessel for a grander truth, and when each vessel shattered, what spilled out was not an answer, but a more deeply hidden scheme.

When gods and mortals rejoiced at having "seen through Tzeentch's plot," He was using their self-satisfaction to feed the rushing river of wisdom flowing beneath His throne.

Aeons hence, perhaps some god or mortal would perceive "Tzeentch's conspiracy," but by then, the treasures of the Cursed Ones would have already entered His labyrinth.

At that time, He would curl up in the shadow of the Golden Throne, savoring the bitter wine brewed from a single moment of hesitation on the part of the Cursed Ones.

He gazed with contentment upon His ever-mutating scrolls, inscribed from end to end with mutually contradictory processes.

"All according to plan."

Shortly thereafter, He witnessed the Lord of Brass in the Immaterium roar in delight, watching the God of War rise from His throne first, droplets of blood rolling down His brazen battle-axe and refracting eightfold reflections.

Every single reflection served as a tombstone for the potential futures of this world.

And He penned the ending of the story within the margins of the scrolls.

"Hehe, everything is going according to plan."

"As expected, we were seen."

Ramesses' voice sounded in the squad's comm-link.

"Did we enter the sightlines of the Four Gods?"

Arthur hoisted the sorcerer's disassembled carcass, thinking inwardly that he had been a bit too slow with his blade.

"Yeah. Considering how the Emperor previously managed to spy on us through the Sisters of Battle, the Four Gods can likewise observe us through the eyes of their cultists. As the God of Wisdom, Tzeentch is naturally far more perceptive than the other three."

Ramesses probed the ripples within the Immaterium.

It appeared Tzeentch had already leaked news of their existence; right now, the realm of the Four Gods was quite lively.

Quietly intercepting a few data streams, he discovered they were entirely futures fabricated by Tzeentch.

He casually forwarded them to Romulus.

"Fake. This guy calculated this using known data, and his understanding of us is limited to the facets we present to others. I could run a completely identical result by matching a few entry tags on my end."

Seconds later, Romulus' voice responded with the answer.

"So basically, Tzeentch is dropping fake news to trick the other brothers into jumping into the pit?"

Karna couldn't help muttering softly.

"Why does this feel so much like someone pulling from the same gacha banner and tricking everyone else into hitting pity for them?"

"Is there any actual risk?"

Arthur couldn't help asking.

"The Four Gods can't see through us directly. Communication with the Emperor's side is already difficult enough for us, so the Four Gods certainly can't project their power to directly affect us either. Just treat them like normal enemies."

"Instead of worrying about them, we should worry about whether this planet is going to get chewed up by the bugs."

Khorne was still stumbling around searching blindly in the Warp; looking at him was quite comical.

Ramesses wrapped up his observations and offered words of reassurance to the rest.

"Don't worry, everything is within expectations."