Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 84 The Promise of the Gods

"Don't even think about killing me or Daisy for the final ritual." Isaac exchanged a glance with Doom, then instinctively turned his head away and said guiltily:
"We are a trinity; if one is harmed, all are harmed."

The ritual array inscribed on his body seemed to give Isaac some courage, and his voice no longer trembled:

“The ritual cannot be stopped; it is the will of the gods, and they will not allow it to be interrupted.”

Doom gave the priest a deep look, realizing that this chaotic ritual was prepared by the gods for themselves.

This hideous bird-man in my hand has done so many absurd things under the command of the gods.

Doom's fists clenched so tightly they cracked, he wished he could skin this beast alive, tear him apart, and gut him right then and there.

Isaac's heart pounded. He had dared to mock Doom so freely just now, but when he actually faced him, fear gripped his throat, and he couldn't utter a single word.

With a long sigh, his broad shoulders trembling, Doom finally dared not hurt his mother any further.

They ripped off Isaac's robe and tossed him aside, treating him like a humiliated insect.

Carefully covering her body, it was a small act of saving her some dignity and protecting her from endless, chaotic humiliation.

Doom looked up at the void in the sky, a void that was eroded by chaos and connected directly to the warp.

"Gods. I know you have always been here."

His words contained no shouts, no hatred, no anger; it was as if he had no emotions at all.

Calm words echoed in the sacrificial pit, gazing at the hole in the sky, stating a fact.

The gaze of the four gods has been present from beginning to end.

It gazed upon itself from the depths of that subspace, then erected an altar, allowing itself to make a choice.

At Doom's summons, four figures emerged from the warp rift; they were the will of the Chaos Gods!

A ghastly green, a decaying swelling; a purplish-pink, a decadent desire; a blue-gray, ever-changing fickleness; a blood-red, a tyrannical rage.

Their appearance was without any warning, without any superfluous power, as if they had been there since before eternity began.

Silently looking at Doom, the gazes of the gods converged on the amphitheater-like sacrificial pit.

bang~
Blue flames ignited at the edge of the sacrificial pit, and vibrant, decaying grass sprouted from the ground. Scalding blood rained down, and sinful spikes burst forth from the earth.

With just a glance, the concept of gods has encroached upon the realm of reality, and this land, barring any unforeseen circumstances, will be the eternal domain of the gods.

"Ah~~~~~"

Isaac was wailing, its hunched body began to twist and contort, exhibiting a variety of horrific mutations.

Under the watchful eyes of the gods, the priest crawled painfully on the ground, thorns piercing his flesh, blood raining down on his body, and decay spreading to every cell.

"Lord of all changes!" Isaac's voice was mournful and humble, calling upon the god who devoutly worshipped and offered everything He did for Him.

The gods did not respond to it, nor did they even look at their followers.

His gaze was fixed on the altar, on the man who stood tall and proud, meeting God's eyes without fear.

Doom naturally noticed Isaac's change and instinctively stepped in front of Daisy to block the god's direct gaze.

Perhaps it was the power of the gods, but its mutation did not affect Daisy.

Or it could be interpreted as the gods not allowing Daisy to mutate.

Isaac was howling and screaming, its demonic body, under the influence of the four gods, simultaneously displaying the characteristics of the four gods.

Wings and feathers grew on its back, its body began to swell and rot, various irritating and hidden organs emerged, its fingers became sharp, and its teeth mutated into blades.

Doom watched it coldly; the once elegant and composed high priest had become a pitiful creature abandoned by Chaos.

The agonizing screams continued as Isaac's body mutated, his genes rearranged in a disordered manner, and his limbs were constantly torn apart and displaced.

Finally, its limbs and torso merged into one, becoming an egg-shaped fleshy ball with a face.

With a blank and numb expression, it became the most filthy chaotic egg.

"Do you like it? It's my gift."

A faint, ethereal voice came, and no two of His words were the same; though the speech was chaotic, it was still understandable.

"The Lord of All Changes." Doom saw a human-sized, illusory figure sitting cross-legged beside the sacrificial pit, constantly shifting and changing in the void.

"I feel only pity."

He shook his head and said to Tzeentch, "I am utterly disgusted by what he did and would not hesitate to kill him, but I pity a soul that has been toyed with."

"Is that so?"

Tzeentch pondered Doom's words, his hand tracing an afterimage in the air: "It seems you have a great misunderstanding about us."

He showed a scene, Doom's most painful memory, of what happened that day in the throne room.

"His arrogance and conceit caused the plan to go astray, and I simply discarded an unsuitable tool."

Doom shook his head in silence; Chaos's words were not to be believed.

"But you are different."

Tzeentch's eerie voice was calm, like that of a wise elder: "Doom! Why do you think I'm here?"

"Because the gods feel that you should not look up to us, but look at us as equals."

"And then you killed my father and desecrated his body?"

Doom glanced at the high and mighty gods, then pointed at Daisy on the ground, his voice growing cold as he questioned, "You nailed my mother to the ground and made her suffer endless humiliation?"

"That was an accident!" Tzeentch remained calm, unperturbed by the hatred he was being shown. "It was an accident that could be undone, including everything that's happening now."

"Can it be salvaged?" Doom frowned, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the phantom of Tzeentch. "How?"

Tzeentch shrugged, in high spirits; if there was room for negotiation, then there was room for maneuver!

They will offer a price that Doom cannot refuse, to bring him under the wing of the Four Gods!
The Lord of Changes moved his fingers, chanting mysterious ancient syllables, and unleashed a spell.

Doom looked at Him warily, but sensed no threat, and the sacrificial array on the ground showed no signs of activation.

What does He want to do?
Tzeentch quickly answered Doom's question.

A white star was thrown down from the warp, which He caught in His hand. His withered palm snapped open, revealing something that made Doom gasp.

"You love your father's soul."

Tzeentch's words were extremely seductive, even using affectionate terms to stir Doom's emotions.

Doom trembled and instinctively tried to rush forward to snatch it.

"Don't rush, my dear Doom!" Tzeentch raised his hand and gently shook it, chuckling as he stopped Doom. "If I get nervous, this fragile soul will vanish completely."

Norwick's miniature, transparent soul floated in Tzeentch's hands, chuckling as he offered the price of the gods: "We can resurrect him!"

Doom's gaze never left Norwick's soul as he asked in a low voice, "So what is the price?"

He understood that there was no free lunch, and Chaos always valued "equivalent exchange".

"Swear allegiance to us!" Tzeentch's magic manifested in the air, his words seductive and stirring, proclaiming a future:

"Swear allegiance to us, and you will be the only 'Chosen One' of the Four Gods. We will swear an oath in the Warp and never betray you."

"You will possess our power, an endless army, and an unparalleled status equal to that of the gods."

"Your father, your mother, your brothers, and those soldiers who followed you, they will be eternal, and live with you forever!"

As Doom listened to Tzeentch's account, even though he knew the gods were full of lies, he was somewhat shaken.

What if? Just what if?
By pledging allegiance to the gods, everything can be restored to what it was before, and all sacrifices and deaths can be avoided.

"You will be free, loved by us, and we will never restrict or demand anything of you."

Perhaps sensing Doom's wavering, Tzeentch continued to promise: "You can ask us for anything, and we will never refuse any of your requests."

Doom looked down at the ground, Daisy's pained expression tugged at his heartstrings; there was hope for Norwick's resurrection.

He was struggling internally; the gods' conditions were too generous, practically a one-sided gift.

(End of this chapter)