On a planet like this, how exactly was a Greater Daemon worthy of Slaanesh's personal blessing selected?
In a world where the entire population was locked in a brutal, murderous free-for-all, what kind of person could truly catch the Dark Prince's eye?
Long before Fulgrim brought the power of Slaanesh, this world was already thoroughly decayed. There were no true artists here—only mortals acting on raw impulse, indulging their basest desires to the bitter end.
Determining the ultimate victor was surprisingly straightforward: the sole survivor, the most ruthless attacker, the aristocrat who proved the boldest, most fearless, and most thoroughly devoted to absolute hedonism.
Watching the corpses of those who had perished in bliss pile up into literal mountains, Yuki sighed quietly. "How utterly grim... Frankly, no sane person would ever choose to stay here."
Fulgrim paid little mind to Yuki's musings. Instead, he turned toward his newly ascended sibling, spreading his multiple arms wide. "Come, champion! Receive your reward and join me in glorious ecstasy!"
"Amby... I must admit, I never expected you to be the last one standing," Yuki remarked.
Amby had undergone a complete metamorphosis.
His face was drawn and gaunt, his body emaciated to the verge of skeletal ruin. Yet from his back sprouted four massive wings, their shape twisted and bizarre.
Yuki couldn't quite put it into words, but aesthetically speaking, it was thoroughly unappealing.
"No, Lord Fulgrim," Amby purred, his eyes gleaming with lustful malice as he turned toward Yuki. "There is still one final opponent I must conquer."
Yuki stared at him in mild astonishment.
"You've really lost your mind, haven't you, buddy?"
Amby lunged forward with blinding speed, while Fulgrim graciously stepped aside to let him pass.
Expressionless, Yuki casually raised a single hand and backhanded the newly born Greater Daemon of Slaanesh straight into the floorboards.
*BOOM!*
"What a complete idiot," Yuki muttered, shaking his head. "His ego must be bigger than his brain. Fulgrim, is this the best your kind can produce?"
Fulgrim shrugged fluidly. "Hardly. It's all much the same to me, though I must admit, dealing with these brainless fools grows rather tedious at times."
Amby struggled to raise his shattered head, looking back and forth between Yuki and Fulgrim. The Primarch merely looked down at him with a pitying shake of his head.
"Can't you use whatever little brain power you have left?" Fulgrim chastised gently. "Since he's standing right beside me, couldn't you have thought it through? He walks freely in my presence, completely unaffected by the corrupted atmosphere—did you truly think he was weak?"
Amby froze. "Could... could Mr. Yuki also be a Greater Daemon?"
"In a sense, he is something far beyond a mere Greater Daemon," Fulgrim whispered, his sinuous tail wrapping tightly around Amby as he leaned in close. "Now come... let us begin our eternal bliss."
Yuki found the entire display thoroughly boring.
Casting a final glance at the planet now completely overrun by warp entities, he turned away. What an absolute waste of time.
---
Meanwhile, back at the Tyranid Hive World...
The biosphere remained entirely undetected by the Imperium of Man.
Following the opening of the Great Rift, the Imperium was plunged into absolute crisis. Although Guilliman's return made total collapse far less likely, the High Lords and Space Marine chapters were utterly consumed with fires across a million fronts. A passive alien sanctuary on the galactic fringe naturally failed to attract their immediate concern.
Here, Fleet Aether and Fleet Chronos entered a state of deep torpor, drastically reducing their organic consumption to preserve resources.
Everything was dedicated to the coming birth.
For Yuki and Yuno, this moment was paramount.
It went without saying for Yuki, but for Yuno, it carried profound significance.
This new life would represent the very first truly independent consciousness born directly from the Hive Mind itself. Her existence would be inextricably linked to the hive synapse, yet Yuno would possess no power to override or coerce her will.
She was fundamentally distinct from every other sub-entity—much like Yuki's current standing among the swarms, except Yuki was an outsider, whereas this child was born of the Tyranid collective itself.
Though several sub-entities expressed concern that such a presence might fracture the absolute unity of the Tyranid race, Yuno—completely swept up in love and the anticipation of motherhood—couldn't care less.
Even while traveling the stars with Yuki, she had never forgotten her role. She was a mother now.
"You're back?" Yuno greeted him as he stepped into the bio-chamber.
"Fulgrim's taste remains as atrociously low as ever," Yuki replied with a weary shake of his head, as if trying to cleanse his mind of the sights on that Garden World. "What a waste of a perfectly good planet."
"That's just how those creatures operate," Yuno said softly. "With that world fallen, the nearest Imperial settlement to us is now an industrial world several sub-sectors away."
In truth, several years had passed since they first sensed the child's presence. Over that time, Yuki and Yuno noticed that almost all surrounding human settlements had steadily collapsed—either consumed by Chaos or overrun by unidentified alien species. Consequently, the borders of the Imperium were receding further and further from their Hive World.
"Have you thought of a name for the child yet?" Yuki asked.
"Hmm... How about New Dream?"
"You just pulled that out of thin air, didn't you!"
Yuno pinched Yuki's arm sharply, though after a moment's consideration, her expression softened. "Actually, it's rather nice. Fleeting like a dream, ethereal... it fits."
---
Deep within the Immaterium...
"Do you think there's any chance that guy will succeed?"
"Sending the Emperor of Mankind to reason with Yuki?" Tzeentch scoffed. "Whether the Emperor would ever condescend to do such a thing is one matter; whether it would work is another entirely. That transmigrator Yuki has planted his feet firmly on the side of the Tyranids. We cannot sway him."
Khorne growled in dissatisfaction. "Multitudinous bird! Are you not supposed to be the master of silver tongues? Can you not drag him over to our side?"
"Or perhaps use your *silver tongue* in other ways," Slaanesh purred with a wicked grin.
Tzeentch glared coldly at Slaanesh. As the threat of the Tyranid main fleet drew ever closer, the four Ruinous Powers found themselves gathering far more frequently to scheme.
"The Great Devourer shields him completely," Tzeentch explained, his eyes burning with unnatural light. "Any attempt to corrupt or beguile him is intercepted before it can even touch his mind. The man is a tragic fool—he believes he is enjoying pure love, when in truth he has become the absolute property of the Hive Mind."
Nurgle chuckled softly, his voice echoing like bubbling rot. "Yet he *is* genuinely enjoying that love, isn't he?"
"And that is precisely what makes him so difficult," Slaanesh complained. "The Great Devourer truly loves him, without a single thread of malice or coercion. That makes manipulation impossible. I thought he would finally be someone we could bargain with, but it turns out he's completely out of reach. If the entire galaxy is stripped bare and devoured..."
"Then the Immaterium itself will face absolute annihilation," Tzeentch cut in, his voice grave. On this matter, he spoke with absolute authority.
"If that truly comes to pass..." Khorne rumbled, a dark excitement rising in his chest.
"...it means eternal war," Tzeentch finished.
Khorne grinned with savage glee, while the other three Chaos Gods looked at him with profound disgust.