"What the hell is that?!"

Eden stared at the spicy image of the Emperor, nearly losing it on the spot.

He rubbed his eyes to confirm he wasn't hallucinating.

Burns the eyes. Blasphemy. Total blasphemy!

Doing this kind of thing in public, in front of the Imperium's pious warriors—this was outright perversion.

It was clearly a hallucination conjured by the Prince of Pleasure, designed to affect their minds.

"You can see it too?" Eden asked the Goddess of Life beside him, his brow furrowing.

Maybe it was an illusion meant only for him.

"Mmhmm..." Isha nodded with a flushed face, clearly a little embarrassed.

Hiss~

Eden sucked in a cold breath. That made things trickier—who knew if the faithful could withstand this?

But the Goddess of Life? A divine being? And she's blushing like a bubble teapot?

What he didn't know was that the vision she saw wasn't of the Emperor at all—it was him.

Each person saw a different version of the hallucination. Some shared visions, but many saw drastically different ones.

This was the insidious nature of the Prince of Pleasure's illusions.

These unnatural hallucinations blanketed the entire region.

Only Eden and a few mentally resilient individuals could hold onto their sanity. Most of the soldiers were already ensnared, unable to discern real from fake.

That was the horror of the Prince of Pleasure.

They could create experiences beyond the limits of sensation—nightmares that tormented and warped the mind, corrupting it.

Thanks to Eden's years of freeloading inside illusions built by the Prince of Pleasure, he had developed a degree of resistance.

So he wasn't heavily affected.

Using his psychic sense, he probed the minds of other warriors and experienced firsthand the twisted pleasure of the dark god.

With the Chaos God's direct intervention, their minds had long been corrupted—they couldn't tell illusion from reality.

This kind of attack was far harder to defend against.

"No! You damned Eldar abomination, get away from our father!"

The Primaris of the Nova Chapter found themselves bound to columns inside an Aeldari palace. Their armor and garments were torn to shreds.

Surrounded by exotic Eldar beauties, they were being lashed by thorned whips—wounded and bloodied even amidst overwhelming pleasure. Some had flesh peeled to the bone.

All of it was reflected physically on their real bodies.

But that wasn't even the cruelest part.

Worse still was watching their gene-father, the Imperial Regent, being subjected to the same fate.

Atop a throne.

The Harbinger of Death of the Eldar, Yvraine, sat like a queen, training the kneeling Imperial Regent with vicious zeal—while he submitted to it like a loyal hound.

It broke the hearts of the Primaris.

Soon, Eden saw even more hallucinations born of soldiers' thoughts.

All of them reflected some inner projection—torture, ecstasy, the glory of slaughter.

Among them, he noticed one oddly peaceful vision.

A utopian world made entirely of food. Warriors flipping woks joyfully, interacting with living dishes and basking in culinary bliss.

The Son of Man Legion's brainwaves are really built different...

But that too was a kind of corruption.

Slaanesh's corruption didn't just come in the form of agony or overstimulation—it could also be in the guise of gentleness, like hobbies, love, food, even friendship.

So enticing that one might fall into Chaos without realizing it.

And then—

Eden found himself in the garden of the Goddess of Life.

"This is... Isha's hallucination?"

Everything in the garden was soft, filled with longing and temptation, easily leading one astray.

"No! Let me go... ah!"

Suddenly, Isha's voice cried out—fearful and weeping, as though she were being assaulted, powerless to resist.

Eden tensed immediately. "Damn it—did that freak manage to snatch her into an illusion?!"

As a divine being, Isha shouldn't be vulnerable to hallucinations.

Only a god as powerful as Slaanesh could subject her to such torment.

Without hesitation, he rushed toward the source of the voice.

"No matter what, I have to get her out of there!"

He'd put in a colossal effort—fought the Tsar of Beasts himself—just to rescue the Goddess of Life from Nurgle's Garden.

If Slaanesh hijacked that effort, dragging the goddess off to some twisted palace for endless perversion...

Wouldn't that make him the greatest sucker in the galaxy?

Might as well go sit next to Papa Nurgle.

Staying on alert, Eden surged deeper into the illusion.

Fortunately, his psychic might was powerful enough that Slaanesh couldn't fully control or corrupt him.

As long as he and Isha worked together, they could break free.

No big problem.

But when Eden reached the spot where Isha's vision unfolded—he was dumbfounded.

The scene was spicy.

In the fragrant flowerbeds, tiny flower sprites sobbed in the air.

At the center, swinging gently on a floral swing, was Isha—being ravaged.

And the one doing the ravaging... was him.

A torrential storm pounded down on the fragile flowers.

The imagery was extremely explicit.

Eden inhaled sharply. "Where's the Prince of Pleasure? I don't sense their presence..."

There was no trace of Slaanesh in the illusion. And Isha's spirit didn't seem hurt.

It felt more like... a choice.

When that idea crossed his mind, Eden's mind exploded. "No way... Is that what you're into, Goddess of Life?!"

Just like that, the idealized version of Isha shattered in his mind.

He'd worked so hard to save her, only to find out she craved him?

And liked it rough?

He was beginning to suspect she'd been imprisoned too long and developed some sort of Stockholm syndrome kink.

"So... what do I do now?"

He pondered. He couldn't just charge in and drag her out of the illusion.

Or... should he give her a taste of reality?

That second thought died instantly.

This was the Warp. Follow that logic and he'd fall into a trap faster than he could say "safe word."

He'd end up on the receiving end of the whip.

Just as Eden hesitated, Isha shifted in the scene, turning slightly and locking eyes with him.

Silence fell like a curtain.

He could see it clearly.

Her face turned from crimson to pale, trembling from shame—on the verge of shattering entirely.

"No..."

She realized what had happened, turned away in panic, and the illusion of the "spicy" Eden vanished.

Then a veil of silk fell across the flowerbeds, blocking everything from view.

Only Eden remained in that part of the hallucination.

He let out a slow breath.

Though he had seen some forbidden secrets, at least there was no immediate danger.

In fact, now he held a few of Isha's mental weak points.

Might make their future relationship easier.

Maybe he could afford to be a bit more assertive with her from now on.

Once he confirmed that Isha was safe—if a little desperate—Eden turned to leave the illusionary space.

But then his body locked up.

A pair of soft, pale hands landed on his shoulders.

"Eden..."

A silky, electrifying voice whispered in his ear.

Holding his breath, Eden turned slowly.

Through the purple mist emerged a graceful figure.

The body was seduction incarnate. Every curve was sculpted perfection. Her face was an impossible convergence of all things beautiful. Even the golden horns on her head were perfectly proportioned.

And her skin... glistening snow-white.

She was the very essence of desire, the goddess of pleasure—Slaanesh.

Slaanesh swayed forward, her hips moving like waves, until she stood before the frozen Savior.

A sweet smile blossomed on her lips.

"Finally, I've caught you, my little darling," she said softly. "Come—immerse yourself in the greatest pleasure this universe can offer. You shall become my most beloved prince…"

After nearly a century of chasing him, she had finally seized the Savior—the one who repeatedly rejected her gifts.

"Damn it! I let my guard down!"

Eden's scalp tingled, heart hammering so fast it felt like it might explode. But his body wouldn't respond.

He was completely immobilized.

In other words, his mind was screaming NO, but his body… his body had other ideas.

That was the danger of desire.

He could feel the corruption already taking hold.

It was very, very bad.

Slaanesh gently reached out to him, trying to drag him into her abyss.

This was a personal move—she had come for him.

"Damn you! What an unholy blessing!"

"He doesn't deserve this! That Savior is unworthy!"

Somewhere in the violet mist…

A corrupted Phoenix, Fulgrim, follower of Slaanesh and invader of Nurgle's Garden, watched the scene.

Grinding his teeth so hard they nearly shattered.

He was too envious.

Whether in devotion to the Prince of Pleasure, in artistic pursuit, or sheer beauty, he surpassed the Savior.

He had served that being faithfully for ten thousand years—so why had he never received such a gift?!

Such blatant injustice!

"No!"

The Fallen Phoenix closed his eyes in agony, unable to bear the sight of the Savior enjoying that ecstasy.

Beside him, Lucius the Eternal, Chosen of Slaanesh, gave him a comforting pat with a whip-like tentacle.

But then—an unexpected change struck the illusion.

"Oh, Prince of Pleasure!"

Both of them stared, eyes wide with shock.

A short while earlier...

"Shit, I'm done for!"

Eden could only watch as his hand reached out toward the sin before him, sinking deeper into corruption, helpless to stop it.

What now?!

He realized he couldn't resist the manifested form of a Chaos God.

He refused to become one of Slaanesh's Chosen or a Daemon Prince—too perverse, too extreme.

Besides, he'd seriously pissed Slaanesh off before, so who knew what kind of torment lay ahead?

Worse yet, Slaanesh was hermaphroditic. If He came at him with a masculine form...

Eden shuddered.

He struggled with everything he had, trying to break free.

Fortunately, he quickly realized something—the corrupting power wasn't transforming his body. Instead, it was being absorbed by his Dark Side.

This drastically weakened Slaanesh's influence.

His mind began to clear.

And then—he noticed it.

The being before him wasn't Slaanesh's true form, but a construct made of condensed Warp energy.

In other words, the real Slaanesh hadn't fully breached Nurgle's Garden.

Penetrating another Chaos God's domain wasn't easy. Even Khorne and Tzeentch had required meticulous planning.

And Slaanesh hadn't expected Eden to be here—this ambush had been a hasty decision.

Not enough time to make a proper incursion.

Realizing this, Eden was no longer afraid and began quietly gathering his psychic energy.

"Savior, your struggle is so delicious to watch."

Slaanesh licked their lips seductively, visibly impatient.

Corrupting such a powerful psyker would greatly enhance Slaanesh's dominion and provide a formidable Primarch-level slave.

Not to mention legions of loyal troops.

It was a prize no Chaos God could resist.

Slaanesh leaned in, about to brand Eden with a kiss imbued with a permanent, unshakable Warp sigil.

Such marks couldn't be removed.

Just like Mortarion, who had once been branded on the heart by Supreme Grand Master Kaldor Draigo of the Grey Knights—and had never lived it down.

But this would be worse. A demonic tattoo of desire that couldn't be hidden.

Anyone marked with it could forget about dignity—enemies would die laughing.

"F**k that!"

Eden saw it coming and exploded into action.

Zzzzap!

His pitch-black hair bristled, golden lightning erupting around him, especially in his right hand, which glowed with crackling energy.

In an instant, he drained most of the faith energy stored inside the Little Sun.

His punch, now amplified by divine lightning, became an unstoppable force.

"Screw you—Golden Fist of Justice!"

BOOM!

He broke free and slammed his fist into Slaanesh's divine face.

"SAVIOR!"

Slaanesh's face twisted grotesquely, and with a screech, the Warp avatar was launched into the purple mist, vanishing.

"My master...!"

The Fallen Phoenix and Lucius could only watch, stunned, as Slaanesh's form flew past them.

That man—Eden the Savior—having repelled a Chaos God's projection, ripped apart the illusion without hesitation and strode away in pure, glorious defiance.

Only a mighty back remained behind.

Etching an unforgettable image into the minds of the nearby Daemonettes and cultist women.

The very air became thick with moisture.

…

Nurgle's Garden.

The scent of flowers vanished from Eden's nostrils, replaced by the foul reek of rot—that familiar stench of the Garden of Nurgle.

"Finally out…"

He took a deep breath—then almost threw up. "Blegh—yeah, no more deep breaths here."

Time passed more slowly inside the illusion.

Only about ten seconds had gone by in the real world.

"Eden, are you alright?"

Isha's hands glowed with divine life energy as she pressed them to Eden's chest, nearly draping herself over him.

He realized that he may have only escaped the illusion thanks to her assistance.

He shook his head. "I'm fine."

"You... just now… did you see me…?"

Her face flushed bright red, eyes downcast, her voice timid.

"What?" Eden activated Oscar-worthy acting mode. Best not to reveal anything—her secret would be more useful later.

He stared at her seriously. "Did something happen?"

"N-No, nothing..."

The Goddess of Life fell silent again, doing her best to control her trembling, desperately hoping the Savior hadn't discovered her shameful illusion.

Eden dropped the topic and turned his focus to the others.

The widespread hallucinations had left many warriors tainted. If it went on any longer, the consequences would be dire.

"Savior!"

A furious voice echoed through the Warp.

Slaanesh had stopped hiding—clearly beginning to force entry into Nurgle's domain.

Rifts opened, and the air grew thick with corruption.

"By the Emperor, this is heresy beyond imagining!"

A Grey Knights scribe trembled on the verge of tears, silently wishing he were blind.

A few mentally pure warriors hadn't been ensnared by illusions—but they had seen the Emperor's image dancing mid-air, made of Warp fog.

That illusion of the Emperor… began to dance… and then… with Slaanesh...

And then Eden joined in.

Utter sensory violation. A nightmare orgy.

A cruel mockery of the Emperor and his warriors. A savage blow to faith.

Eden frowned at the abomination. "After this, we'll need to schedule psychological recovery. Possibly... memory wipes."

That same vision reached the real Emperor.

And He was furious.

He demanded the Savior open a conduit—immediately—to descend into Nurgle's Garden Himself.

Big E was officially pissed off!

"Slaanesh, you're dead meat now."

Eden's eyes narrowed at the intensifying corruption. He began moving again, approaching the long-range units.

With focused psychic effort, he dispelled the hallucinations plaguing them.

The troops returned to normal, signs of corruption fading—though their expressions remained shaken.

Chaplains began emergency recitations of the Litany of the Emperor, stabilizing minds and restoring faith.

"How's the core?"

Eden made his way to the center, where a several-meter-tall Holy Core stood.

It was an enhanced version of the Holy Spire Core, capable of channeling the Emperor's might.

Tech-priests clanked away, but nothing worked.

"We're sorry, Lord Savior," one of them confessed. "The system and structure are intact—but it just... won't start."

"What's the reason?"

"The Machine Spirit is... displeased."

Eden sighed. The worst kind of issue—spiritual.

He asked, "Did you try incense and prayer?"

But he quickly saw that was a dumb question.

Several tech-priests were swinging censers. Others smeared sacred oils by hand. One was chanting binary litanies directly into the engine.

They'd even deployed mini sanctified ash-bombs and adorned it with rare Mechanicus sigils.

They'd used every Machine Spirit appeasement trick in the book—and still, nothing.

Eden was about to panic. Now of all times? Why the cold shoulder?

Luckily, he had a backup plan.

He looked to a figure nearby and commanded, "Big Mek, you're up. Fix this, now."

After the core failed, Eden had contacted the Steel-Toothed Big Mek inside Nurgle's Garden, invoking his title as Four-Armed Savior.

That genius was one of the key engineers who helped build the Holy Core.

The Ork, clad in mismatched mechanical limbs and glowing monocles, walked a circle around the core.

Then, to everyone's horror—he whipped out a massive hammer and smashed it down.

DUANG~

The hammer struck the engine. The whole machine shook. Cracks appeared. Bits fell off.

But—somehow—the Holy Core roared to life.

Success!

Eden understood. The Machine Spirit was just tsundere. Sometimes, it needed a little tough love.

The Big Mek gave the same verdict.

Then, with an electric flash, he disappeared—teleporting back to his Ork horde using warp-tech.

"This guy's getting better…" Eden muttered, impressed. No wonder the Old Ones built the Webway.

The tech-priests scrambled to finish activation, successfully booting up the core and its systems.

Outside, battle had begun. The front-line warriors were already clashing with Slaaneshi Daemons.

Then came the noise—chaotic, maddening, ear-splitting.

The Noise Marines had arrived.

Riiip~

The air split open.

A massive violet form stepped through—Slaanesh's true body had breached the Garden.

Their gaze locked directly onto Eden, burning with desire.

"You can't run. You will know the agony of perfect pleasure!"

The Savior was instantly smothered by an overwhelming presence, barely able to breathe.

At the same time, the Holy Core fired a golden beam skyward—piercing into the Warp.

The searing, unstoppable, divine pressure of a greater force descended—

The Emperor's Wrath had come!

(End of Chapter)

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