A child?
For Yuki, such a concept had once been entirely beyond his wildest imagination.
He had once wondered if he would ever find someone to love him in the future, if he would ever know a happy marriage, and what his children might look like.
He looked around. This place was far from the quiet, pristine white hospital room he had always pictured, yet the newborn's crying was just as loud and clamorous as he had imagined. Scattered around his feet lay the drained, hollowed carcasses of Tyranid bio-forms.
During the final stage of gestation, the creation of the child's physical body had encountered severe difficulties, and the Tyranid swarm had thrown themselves forward in a frenzy, sacrificing their own biomass to bridge the gap.
In the end, it yielded this tiny, fragile bundle resting in his hands. Look at her nose—gods, it was so tiny, so pale. From the moment she entered the world, she was so utterly endearing, so impossible not to love. In this universe, perhaps only Yuno could compare to this precious little life.
The woman he loved had brought their adorable child into the world—could anything in existence grant greater happiness than this?
Yuki was moved to the very brink of tears, but the exquisite, tender atmosphere was instantly shattered when Yuno's face suddenly loomed over him.
"You're not actually crying, are you?"
Yuno leaned close, giggling softly as she scooped little New Dream from Yuki's arms.
"You little thing... you certainly put me through a deal of suffering, didn't you?"
While Yuno did not carry a child for ten months like a human mother, nor did she need to nourish it through a conventional body, the spiritual strain and soul-pressure exacted by this unique lifeform had been overwhelmingly intense.
"So adorable," Yuno murmured, gazing down before looking up with a mischievous glint. "Though I'm still not sharing your father with you."
Yuno pondered for a moment before casually proposing to Yuki, "Should we toss New Dream out into the galaxy to forge her own path through trial and hardship? You know, like the Emperor of Mankind did with his Primarchs?"
"Have you lost your mind?!"
"I'm just joking."
Yuno laughed, but a fraction of a second later, her smile vanished and her expression darkened dramatically.
"Those bastards actually had the nerve to show up."
"The Four Gods... no, even the Emperor of Mankind is here," Yuki remarked. "They certainly have a lot of free time on their hands."
"I'll go sweep them away," Yuno said coldly.
"No, stay and watch the child," Yuki replied gently. "I'll go talk to them."
"If anything goes wrong, call for me immediately. Remember, don't try to be a hero."
"I doubt they'd dare do anything to me with you standing right behind me."
And so, carrying the fresh joy of newfound fatherhood, Yuki departed the crumbling Hive World—which was already dissolving back into bio-vessels—and stepped out into the void, arriving directly before the supreme entities of Chaos and order.
"Alright, everyone. What brings you to my doorstep?"
"I came to offer my blessings for the newborn!" Nurgle stepped forward first, holding out a woven fruit basket. "This one is far better than the last! No Warp energy whatsoever—I've been cultivating these for a very long time. And these here were personally grown by Isha."
Yuki accepted Nurgle's fruit basket. Next to step forward was the Emperor of Mankind.
"Congratulations. A new life. May it bring hope for the future."
"I'm sorry, Emperor," Yuki said quietly as he accepted the gesture. "Even if I accept this, I cannot guarantee the future of your Imperium."
"I understand," the Emperor replied gravely.
The remaining three entities exchanged glances. Khorne recalled that he had gifted an axe last time, so naturally, he reached behind his back, drew another massive combat axe, and thrust it toward Yuki.
"The power of two axes far exceeds that of one! A birth gift!"
Yuki accepted the weapon, then cast a deeply suspicious look at Slaanesh and Tzeentch.
If either of these two pulled out anything remotely bizarre, he would expel them from the sector instantly.
However, Slaanesh proved adept at reading the room. From somewhere within their ethereal folds, they produced an extraordinarily vibrant, exquisite garment.
"A little darling ought to be dressed beautifully, after all."
Yuki was left somewhat speechlessly amused. Though he knew anything from Slaanesh likely carried strange origins, the garment appeared harmless enough on the surface.
Finally, it was Tzeentch's turn.
"BWAHAHAHA! All according to plan!"
You simply didn't prepare anything, did you?
That was the unanimous thought shared by everyone present as they watched Tzeentch launch into a convoluted rant about how he had foreseen this exact outcome, and how this was merely one manifestation of an infinite future.
Eventually, after much stalling, Tzeentch fumbled out a small, ornate wand.
Yuki gathered the gifts and promptly issued his eviction notice. "Alright, I have received your kind gestures, and I express gratitude on behalf of my daughter, New Dream. Now, you may take your leave."
The Emperor was the first to react, turning into a golden streak that vanished into the distance. Nurgle followed, though unlike the silent Emperor, he hummed a cheerful little tune as he departed, looking thoroughly pleased.
Next was Khorne, who grumbled loudly as he stomped off: "I came expecting an absolute bloodbath! What a utterly disappointing waste of time!"
Tzeentch sneered, "What were you expecting, blood-brain? The hour has not yet arrived."
As Khorne stomped away cursing, Slaanesh lingered with an uncomfortable look of lingering desire, but under Yuki's cold glare, they too slipped back into the Warp.
In the end, only Tzeentch remained in the quiet void.
Tzeentch gazed at Yuki, his expression uncharacteristically strange.
Yuki knew this oversized bird never spoke a word of straight truth, and nothing good ever came out of his mouth, so he raised his hand, preparing to banish him.
Before he could, Tzeentch suddenly spoke.
"Do you know, Yuki? Transmigrator, Vice-Master of the Hive, the anomaly who shifts the entire galaxy... Can you truly accept what lies ahead? How much strength and willpower do you have left to push forward?"
"What are you talking about?"
"The true story has only just begun," Tzeentch murmured softly. "Do not despair, yet do not be overly optimistic either. The future I perceive is by no means a pleasant one for you."
"And what exactly can you see, big bird?"
"What can I see? Yuki... I can see nothing at all. All I perceive is a trajectory—a rising trend. More and more existences beyond our ability to calculate are arriving. Predicting the future will only grow increasingly impossible."
"I see."
"Perhaps our creators simply haven't written what comes next," Tzeentch mused, weaving threads of light between his feathers. "Perhaps only after this point in time do we truly gain free will."
"Ah, so you've realized it too," Yuki noted. "Though your understanding isn't quite as complete as Yuno's."
Tzeentch manipulated the flickering lights in his hand, a look of profound weariness passing over his shifting features. "I have no desire to know more. The wisdom I possess allows me to comprehend it, but the weight of that knowledge is agonizing. I must reject it to preserve my own sanity."
"Then... why Yuno?"
"When Yuno first crossed over into that world, she possessed no true independent consciousness—she was merely a mindless collective organism. And for that transformation... she has you to thank."
Yuki chose not to press further.
"Since I have shared this with you," Tzeentch concluded smoothly, "we shall consider it my birth gift to the child."
With a flick of his feathered arm, Tzeentch tore open a portal and faded back into the depths of the Immaterium.
---
"Did you finally send them off? You certainly took your time."
Yuki returned to Yuno, setting the pile of gifts aside on an organic pedestal, where living biomass promptly surged forward to envelop and isolate them.
"They brought quite a few gifts, but I don't entirely trust any of them. You should inspect them thoroughly."
Yuno nodded without further comment. Those entities undoubtedly harbored bizarre ulterior motives—though in truth, it would have been far stranger if they hadn't.