The Warp, edge of the Astronomican.
Within this eternal, churning sea of chaotic energy, there existed a single exception.
It was an invisible, secluded domain, wrapped tightly in an incomprehensibly complex layer of emotional energy.
It remained perfectly calm amidst the endless madness of the Warp.
At the very center of this domain stood a massive, virtual mansion.
Lucian lounged on a ridiculously oversized sofa by the floor-to-ceiling windows—one easily big enough for ten people to comfortably roll around on.
He had a bucket of popcorn in one hand, his eyes glued to twelve golden screens floating in the air before him.
He still looked exactly like a twenty-something college kid.
Wearing a baggy hoodie and fluffy slippers, he looked like any regular university student binge-watching shows on a lazy weekend.
That is, if you ignored the fact that he was currently chilling inside the Warp, surrounded by billions of swirling, agonizing emotional currents.
"Interesting."
Lucian tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth, chewing loudly as his eyes locked onto one specific screen.
The feed showed the aftermath of the firefight in Habitation Sector C on the Tear of Diasporex.
Five hundred Chaos players were currently retreating toward the core sector, looking completely demoralized.
On another screen, [All According to Plan] was leaning against a barricade, his face dark as he listened to the sit-rep from his squad.
The corner of Lucian's mouth ticked upward.
"So Blue Pigeon actually made his move, huh."
His voice echoed through the empty domain, tinged with a mix of amusement and... a knowing realization.
He raised his right hand, gently swiping his index finger through the air.
The footage on the screen instantly rewound ten minutes.
It showed [All According to Plan] crouching behind cover, staring at Gabriel Santar and the three hundred Iron Hands through his scope.
His original plan had been simple: keep tailing Fulgrim, make sure he secured the First Blood achievement, and clear the quest.
But right before he could issue the order to hold position, his eyes had flickered.
The light was so faint it was almost imperceptible.
But to Lucian, it stood out like a beacon in the night.
"Whispers."
Lucian said softly, a playful edge to his tone.
"You can actually hear Tzeentch's whispers now."
–
On the screen, [All According to Plan]'s eyes had glazed over for a fraction of a second.
In that singular moment, it was as if he had heard something.
Some ancient, abyssal, infinitely calculating murmur.
The voice echoed in his mind, causing a subtle, imperceptible shift in his original thought process.
He watched the grueling assault on the core sector fortifications.
A thought bubbled up in his head...
What if... Solomon won the final fight instead?
What if Fulgrim lost this race to his most trusted Captain?
If that happened...
Fulgrim would be even more pissed off.
Even more dissatisfied.
Even more desperate for perfection.
He would lean even harder on that sword, sinking deeper into those pinkish-purple whispers.
And then, he would arrive at Davin that much faster.
He would reach... Horus... that much faster.
The fog in [All According to Plan]'s eyes slowly cleared.
He had no idea where that thought had just come from.
But he decided he really, really liked it.
In that exact instant.
A wisp of pale blue light, so faint it was practically invisible.
Drifted out from the shadows deep within the corridor.
It slipped silently into the back of [All According to Plan]'s head.
And just like that, his command changed to:
"Aggro the Iron Hands."
–
Lucian's lips curled into a deeply knowing smile. He spoke softly:
"I originally just wanted you to back up Fulgrim."
"Make sure he got the achievement."
"Let him bask in the glory of sharing the victory with his best bro, Ferrus."
"Delay his trip to Davin by a few months."
"Keep him away from Horus just a little bit longer."
"Even if it only bought a few months."
"Even if it only nudged the timeline off its rails just a fraction of an inch."
"That would have been enough."
"But Blue Pigeon, you really just couldn't stand seeing the lore change, could you?"
That wisp of pale blue light was being directly manipulated by Tzeentch.
Silently rewriting [All According to Plan]'s decision-making process.
Lucian didn't step in to stop it.
He just watched quietly.
Because he knew this was exactly how the four Chaos Gods operated.
This was exactly what Tzeentch wanted.
Even though Tzeentch was the Changer of Ways and thrived on chaos and mutation.
The Horus Heresy was their masterstroke—a plot they had spent millennia weaving to drag the Imperium of Man into the mud.
They absolutely would not allow any random variables to screw it up.
Lucian's eyes shifted to the other screens.
[Blue Pigeon Knows Nothing] was currently leading a battered, broken mob of survivors back toward the core sector, cursing up a storm the entire way.
[Konnichiwa Slaanesh-chan] was staring at his pathetic 80,000 Imperial Coin balance, looking like he was about to cry.
[Let the Galaxy Burn] and [Number One Handsome of the Soul Hall] were doing a post-game review while sprinting, passionately arguing over whether rocket launchers or Cyclone missiles were the better meta pick.
And the poor bastards who had respawned only to realize they'd dropped all their gear were currently wailing in the regional chat.
"Blowing 800,000 Imperial Coins in a single firefight... The whales in the real world would weep seeing this level of swiping."
"But keep it up, boys. Keep swiping. The more you spend, the more I make."
Lucian couldn't help but crack a joke.
His gaze flicked to another screen.
Over there, Leon was leading his three hundred Loyalist players on a rapid advance down the right-hand corridor.
Their objective was clear...
Solomon Demeter.
Lucian raised an eyebrow slightly.
"This retired vet... he's got some serious chops."
Three hundred versus five hundred. Pushed into a choke point with a massive gear disadvantage. And he still completely broke the Chaos players.
With that kind of shot-calling ability, he could easily command an entire Astra Militarum regiment in the Warhammer universe.
"Shame he isn't playing Crimson Dawn."
Lucian shrugged.
But it didn't really matter.
Loyalist or Chaos, in his eyes, they were all just tools. They all served a purpose.
The better they did, the bigger his payout.
But Crimson Dawn... that was where his real hope lay.
His eyes kept moving, scanning across the floating screens.
Every single screen was playing out a completely different story.
--
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