"Heh heh. Brothers turning against each other — a playful spirit leads to wicked consequences. Leader of the XI Legion — Nyx."
A Nurgling, saturated with the stench of decay, perched upon the xenos overlord Necare's shoulder, dancing merrily. Its gaze was fixed eagerly upon the two figures still locked in combat in the distance.
Everything had been foreseen by his Grandfather Nurgle: the paranoid Mortarion would personally sever his only chance to escape his fate.
"Heh heh. I told you — Mortarion was always destined to be part of our big family."
"He cannot escape his appointed purpose... But, Necare — you seem to have outlived your usefulness?"
Nurgle grinned viciously, then abruptly shifted tone. "Heh heh. Do not worry... In Mortarion's fate, you remain the key."
Necare showed none of the fear the Nurgling on his shoulder had anticipated. He, too, was watching Nyx and Mortarion — locked in their ceaseless, destructive duel in the distance.
...No. Something is wrong...
As a xenos overlord, Necare could see further and clearer than the gleeful Nurgling on his shoulder.
...These are... humans!
They were not fighting to the death at all. They were using their battle to conceal their true objective—
"They are freeing the human slaves."
Nurgle abruptly stopped his jig. He turned to Necare, bewildered.
"...You say... What?"
"I said — they are rescuing the human captives we have imprisoned!"
The smile vanished entirely from the Nurgling's face. At this moment, Necare was struggling to suppress the smile that threatened to burst forth from his own heart.
...Must restrain myself...
Necare clenched his fists — ostensibly enraged by the liberation of the human slaves, glaring at Nurgle with what appeared to be hatred.
But he was already inwardly celebrating Mortarian's performance, which had deceived even him. His adoptive son was even more talented at dissembling than he had anticipated.
Yes — Necare's attitude toward Mortarion and humanity had never changed. He regarded them only as slaves, as food. But this did not prevent him from deriving secret satisfaction from watching Nurgle's plans unravel.
"No! The Grandfather's prophecy is not like this!"
"They should be killing each other — then falling, broken, into the Grandfather's embrace!"
Necare felt the Nurgling on his shoulder grow agitated. This spirit — of singular identity — simply marshalled the power of the Warp and directed its gaze directly upon the scene.
On the battlefield, the fight between Nyx and Mortarion remained fierce. Yet the two, with deliberate 'carelessness', were clearing xenos along their collision path, and 'accidentally' steering the battle toward the castle district where the human captives were held.
"They... How dare they deceive me?! How dare they defy my Grandfather's fate?!"
Nurgle shrieked in fury. The next second, however — everything suddenly stopped.
Nyx and Mortarion's movements achieved perfect synchronisation at a single instant.
Nyx abruptly pivoted sideways. His long golden hair swept up like sunlight. One hand half‑shielded his cold expression, but the other was extended with absolute confidence — his index finger pointing straight and firm ahead.
Simultaneously, Mortarion twisted his waist in an almost mirror‑image posture. He stood in the shadow behind Nyx, yet radiated the same inscrutable momentum. His arms rose in response; his fingertips converged with his resolve—
Their hands bridged the distance with 100% synchronisation. With an absolutely confident, absolute posture, they pointed together at the peeping Nurgling in the void!
"YOU PEEPING WARP BASTARD!" ×2
—They declared simultaneously, like a judgement bell, reaching the mind of the spirit still within the castle.
"...What... How can this be...?"
"...These two... These two are simply... INSANE!"
This particular Nurgling could not comprehend how two beings who should have been locked in mutual slaughter could reunite in such a short span of time.
From this moment onward, there might soon be one less laughing Nurgling in the Warp — if it survived.
"Where are you looking?!"
In that instant of distraction, Nyx and Mortarion's forms had completely vanished from Nurgle's sight. He whirled, furious, to glare at Necare at his feet.
Necare silently raised a hand and pointed in a certain direction.
Then Nurgle saw—
Nyx spread his arms wide. Scorching golden lightning erupted from his entire body, lashing outward. The metal in the ruins, the electrical charges in the air — every electromagnetic force was forcibly drawn to him, woven and transformed into a roaring gravitational vortex between himself and Mortarion. This was not a chaotic explosion of energy, but a gravitational bowstring — formed, drawn, and pulled taut by Nyx's will.
And Mortarion was the living great arrow, about to be loosed from that string.
"THE MOMENT IS... NOW!"
The golden light in Nyx's eyes surged. He grasped with one hand, as though holding the ready‑to‑launch Mortarion—
"TAKE THIS! THIS IS THE PATH TO VICTORY—"
"PERFECT — GOLDEN SLALOM!!"
BOOM——!!!
Mortarion's body broke the sound barrier in an instant. Countless sonic boom clouds detonated in his wake. He was like a pale meteor, tearing across the sky, following the perfect golden spiral Nyx had forcibly inscribed upon the universe — wrapped in a physics that the Nurgling could not comprehend, shrouded in the resolve to shatter fate — and struck with a thunderous crash!
Simultaneously, the pure white light‑wings behind Nyx's back spread wide. The instant the wings unfurled, the surrounding space rippled.
With a single beat of his wings, Nyx completely transcended the concept of distance.
Mortarion, the Pale King, and Nyx, the Space King — one descended from the horizon along a golden spiral, the other fell from the heavens with light‑wings on his back. High and low — together, they landed before Necare and the terrified Nurgle!
"How could you possibly comprehend the firmness of the human will?"
"Cowering in Nurgle's putrid cesspool, you see only the decay of all things."
"You cannot imagine how far the human soul can shine."
The moment the words fell, time itself seemed to freeze. In that instant, the Nurgling saw—
The golden flames raging around Nyx, intertwined with the unyielding white flames upon Mortarion's body.
This was a sight visible only to Warp entities: the incarnation of the human soul and will, at its most radiant peak.
And this moment — was its final sensation.
A sword, blazing with sacred fire, pierced its filthy shell.
"You thought yourself the master puppeteer. Now you are utterly defeated... Pity. You lack even the qualifications to be a worthy adversary."
"Daemons slain by my blade meet true death. There will be no day of resurrection in the Warp for you."
Nurgle lowered his head, dazed, staring at the sword‑blade that had pierced his form. At last, he dissolved into a mournful shriek, swallowed by the flames.
"Necare... You will return to the filth from whence you came. I should end you here."
"But I sense the final moment has not yet come... So I will spare this life for now."
"I will come for it myself — on that fated day."
Mortarion's scythe rested at his adoptive father's throat. Yet he knew: the time was not yet right.