Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor-Chapter 212 - 213: The Chaos Gods—A Moment of Silence…
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Space twisted violently.
A torrent of pure energy surged outward, filling the surrounding void with blazing divine radiance.
"This is insane..."
Eden’s vision was overwhelmed by golden light—and the writhing iridescent mass of Tzeentch’s struggling avatar.
He could feel the Emperor’s emotions.
Not just exhilaration—but an unleashed fury that had been simmering for ten thousand years.
Ten Millennia Ago…
The Great Crusade had seen the Emperor and His Primarchs launch a campaign of conquest that shattered the galaxy’s chains, forging an Imperium for mankind alone.
At its height, the Imperium of Man controlled millions of worlds—a vast empire bathed in the light of progress.
But such vast dominion came with an incomprehensible burden.
To secure humanity’s future, the Emperor withdrew into the depths of the Imperial Palace, working to unlock an ancient secret—the Webway Project.
This labyrinth of tunnels, created by the Old Ones, allowed for instantaneous travel across the stars.
If fully harnessed, the Webway would eliminate the Imperium’s reliance on the Warp, severing its vulnerability to daemonic incursions.
Once the Emperor fully deciphered its mysteries, He resolved to forge His own gateway.
Thus, He constructed a vast golden portal, so immense that multiple Warhound Titans could stride through it at once.
Upon its completion, He reactivated an ancient artifact—the Golden Throne, a relic capable of amplifying His psychic might to unimaginable levels.
Suspending the Golden Throne above the portal, He linked it to the Webway Gate through intricate mechanisms, forming the key to His grand design.
When activated, He would use the Throne’s immense power to stabilize the Webway, forging a galactic transport network free from Chaos’ grasp.
Then—He made His greatest mistake.
He sat upon it.
Bound by countless cables and conduits, arcs of blinding psychic energy surged through His form.
Locked into the final phase of His research, the Emperor could no longer move freely.
And from that moment—the Imperium’s doom was sealed.
Tzeentch, along with the other Chaos Gods, whispered poisoned lies to Horus, turning the Warmaster against His Father.
Horus ignited a war that tore the galaxy apart—culminating in the Siege of Terra, his final push to slay the Emperor.
As the fateful moment neared, Tzeentch ensnared Magnus the Red, luring him into shattering the Webway’s psychic barriers.
The Webway was compromised.
And with it—demons poured into reality, flooding through the breach.
The Emperor, still bound to the Throne, was forced to split His focus.
He fought to suppress the demonic tide, while preparing to confront Horus himself.
With His power divided, He made a desperate decision—
He commanded Malcador the Sigillite, His most loyal regent, to take His place on the Throne.
Only then could He leave the Throne and personally battle Horus.
By the time He returned, mortally wounded, Malcador had already been obliterated—his body consumed by the Throne’s merciless psychic onslaught.
The Webway breach remained open.
To prevent the Imperium’s total collapse, the Emperor had no choice but to sit upon the Throne once more.
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From that moment forth—His grand vision was lost.
The Golden Throne became His eternal prison, its endless psychic strain leaving Him suspended between life and death.
His body rotted, yet His soul endured, guarding humanity’s future from within the Warp itself.
Yet without His direct rule, humanity began to wither.
Blind faith replaced progress.
The Imperium, once the beacon of human supremacy, degenerated into a stagnant, decaying theocracy—besieged by Xenos, heretics, and daemons alike.
Yet, in their ignorance, mankind worshipped Him as a god—
Their faith transformed Him into the Golden Sun, the Savior of Humanity, the God-Emperor of Mankind.
And through their prayers, He ascended—becoming a divine force in the Warp, a burning beacon against the tides of Chaos.
But this was never His will.
Humanity was meant to have a future.
A golden age of reason.
Yet, it had been stolen by the Dark Gods.
And the one most responsible—
Was Tzeentch.
The Golden Sun swelled.
Ten thousand years of repressed fury ignited.
A tidal wave of divine fire erupted outward.
The sheer magnitude of power sent even Eden—the Little Sun—trembling in fear.
"Holy hell... This energy... It’s stronger than even the Chaos Gods…! Thank the stars He’s on our side, or humanity would’ve been erased by now…"
"Cursed One!"
Tzeentch screamed, its psyche unraveling under the crushing force of the Emperor’s wrath.
It desperately projected psychic transmissions—pleas for mercy.
The holy radiance was a torment beyond imagination for Chaos.
If one had to describe it—
It was as if one’s senses were magnified a millionfold—only to be submerged in a lake of burning, electrified filth for eternity.
From the depths of the Warp, the other Chaos Gods watched in silence.
Even from afar—
They felt fear.
The Cursed One’s power was beyond their expectations.
Had humanity not shackled Him, they would never stand a chance.
For the first time in aeons, they dreaded what the future held.
If one day, the Cursed One ascended beyond His chains—
What then?
Even though the Chaos Gods could never truly die,
The suffering He could inflict upon them…
Might be worse than oblivion itself.
This was why they sought to corrupt the Imperium.
Yes, they gained power from faith and belief.
But more importantly—
They sought to cripple the Cursed One.
If they could dismantle His empire, they could weaken His influence.
"HELP ME! SAVE ME!"
Tzeentch’s cries were frantic, filled with genuine terror.
The moment its avatar had collided with the Golden Sun, it had sent out a distress signal—
Begging its fellow Chaos Gods to intervene.
But—
They remained silent.
Hell no.
Only a fool would approach the Golden Sun.
That was like charging into an exploding star with nothing but a wet paper towel for protection.
As long as they stayed far away, the Cursed One couldn’t touch them.
Tzeentch?
Tzeentch was just unlucky.
They all knew that if the situation were reversed, Tzeentch wouldn’t lift a finger for them either.
And frankly—
Nobody liked Tzeentch anyway.
The other Chaos Gods simply…
Watched in silence.
And held a moment of silence.
Meanwhile, Eden watched gleefully from behind the Golden Sun.
"Oh, this is beyond satisfying."
After all—
He had a personal grudge against Tzeentch.
Years ago, Yosef Hoffman had been Tzeentch’s pawn, bringing havoc to Urth, causing endless suffering to the Royal Court.
Now—
Watching the Emperor’s unrelenting divine fire consume the struggling iridescent mass…
Eden could only describe it as:
"A work of art."
With one last agonized wail, Tzeentch’s avatar dissolved into nothingness.
The Golden Sun turned.
Sensing the watching Chaos Gods—
It released a final, blinding explosion of holy light.
Tzeentch howled.
Desperately, He sent out wave after wave of psychic distress signals—begging for mercy from the Golden Sun.
The holy radiance was absolute agony for a Chaos God.
An unbearable, soul-searing torment.
If one had to describe the suffering that Tzeentch was enduring at that moment…
It would be akin to having one’s senses magnified ten thousandfold, then being buried alive in a burning, electrified, maggot-infested sewer for millennia.
From the distant corners of the Warp, the other Chaos Gods watched in silence.
They shuddered.
For the first time in aeons, they felt true fear.
The power of the Cursed One was beyond anything they had anticipated.
Had it not been for humanity’s own constraints, had the Cursed One truly ascended to godhood and broken free—
They would all be doomed.
This was why they sought to corrupt the Imperium.
Yes, corrupting humanity strengthened their own power—
But more than that—
It weakened Him.
By shattering the Imperium, by tainting human faith, they could chip away at His power, ensuring that the Cursed One would never rise beyond His chains.
"HELP ME! SAVE ME!"
Tzeentch sent another frantic psychic plea.
In truth, the moment His avatar had slammed into the Golden Sun, He had already issued a desperate distress call to His fellow Chaos Gods.
Begging them to intervene, to unite and save Him.
But—
The other Chaos Gods remained silent.
No way.
They weren’t stupid.
Approaching the Golden Sun was suicide—
It would be like charging at a nuclear explosion with nothing but a loincloth for protection.
As long as they stayed far enough away, the Cursed One could not touch them.
Tzeentch?
Tzeentch was just unlucky.
They all knew that if the situation had been reversed, if one of them had fallen into this disaster—
Tzeentch would never lift a finger to help.
And frankly—
Nobody liked Tzeentch anyway.
So instead—
The Chaos Gods simply stood in silence.
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And watched.
Each with their own expression—
Some amused, some cold, some even feeling a slight sense of pity.
But none would interfere.
They merely held a moment of silence for Him.
Meanwhile, Eden watched with immense satisfaction.
This was pure catharsis.
Besides, he had a personal grudge against Tzeentch.
Over a decade ago, Yosef Hoffman had been a devoted servant of Tzeentch, spreading madness and corruption on Urth.
The Royal Court had suffered greatly because of him.
And now?
Watching the Golden Sun unleash an endless torrent of holy fire upon the screaming, writhing form of Tzeentch’s avatar…
Eden could only smile.
"This… this is art."
The Emperor showed no mercy.
The holy energy poured forth without limit, searing away every last scrap of Tzeentch’s Warp-born manifestation.
The raw brilliance of the attack was enough to scorch the very fabric of the Warp itself.
And—
Despite being only an avatar, Tzeentch’s true form still suffered.
The energy backlash coursed through His divine essence, leaving wounds upon His very being.
Finally—
With one last agonized wail,
The iridescent mass shattered.
Tzeentch’s avatar dissolved into nothingness.
Silence followed.
But it wasn’t over.
The Golden Sun turned.
It had sensed the gazes of the other Chaos Gods—those who had been watching from afar.
And it reacted.
With a sudden burst of overwhelming divine power, it unleashed a final, blinding surge of golden light—
Racing toward the distant Chaos Gods.
Even they were not safe.
(End of Chapter)
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