I'm a magnetic field madman

“Ynnead…”

She whispered the names of the gods, and not just her, but all the spirits of this universe…

All the surviving Aidas felt their souls connect with this last deity!

They murmured, they roared with excitement—their true god, their last god, who will save them and defeat the great enemy of darkness!

The purplish-blue glow reflected the form of the dead, with flames of countless souls coiling around his magnificent body and the dark blue armor of the dead.

Five old women's swords surrounded him, and the sacred fire of Asuyan brought the hatred of the gods and the will of the spirit race!

die! die! die!

Countless deaths yearn to assault the chaotic realm of Slaanesh!

That yearning for silence and tranquility caused the entire grand palace to tremble and crumble at all times.

The Seven Heavens disintegrated at an extremely rapid pace, representing the entire universe's thoughts of pleasure and joy, and all that was buried in the ashes of annihilation!

Silence, tranquility—all of this is the greatest enemy of pleasure.

Or perhaps... it's an inevitable consequence of revelry?

Slaanesh the Screamer, the terrifying dark prince, lunged at Death like an amorphous mass of color!

He brought joy, the pleasure and endless hedonism that all the Eldar once craved, and attacked Death!

Meanwhile, Death, the serene Jena, wielded five old women's swords, engaging in a fierce battle with the endless pleasure.

Evelynn could not describe the sight she had seen; how could her weak spirit and meager vocabulary possibly capture the battle between the gods?

All she knew was that Slaanesh's Chaos Realm was disintegrating, the High Heavens were trembling, and countless souls were fighting each other amidst screams!

She continued to watch, continuing to see through the true nature of this war.

Ida's soul, who supports Death and yearns for peace, and Ida's soul, who supports Slaanesh and revels in endless pleasure.

Their thoughts are the echoes of the soul, a reflection of the entire Aidaling race's existence.

This is a battle between gods, and also a clash between Ida herself. Thoughts against thoughts, actions against actions, souls against souls!

Ultimately, it is they themselves who decide their own fate!

But what was the final result?

The pink color gradually overshadowed the calm blue, and the shrill screams of revelry in pursuit of pleasure easily drowned out the voices yearning for peace.

The revelry of the Dark Prince subdued the dead Jena, and she seized the final sword, plunging it into Jena's heart.

Evelyn closed her eyes in anguish.

This is her race, this is their mindset.

The soul's thirst for pleasure ultimately overwhelmed the self's desire for peace, and Jena... was no match for Slaanesh.

Who can she blame? This is the choice of their race, an inherent flaw of the Adaling race, incurable, and no one can help them…

As the Dark Prince's shriek echoed through the heavens, Jena was shattered and swallowed by Slaanesh...

Countless Eldar souls were completely swallowed up by Slaanesh amidst wails and curses.

Including Evelyn

Her soul and self merged with countless torrents, and that endless pain and flow was the end of pleasure.

This is the result of their wish, the result of their entire race's wish to the highest heaven!

Slaanesh is their desire.

But the next moment, something strange happened.

Having devoured the souls of all Eldar, Slaanesh stood there, stunned. His body, his very being, and the "womb" he was nurturing suddenly began to swell wildly.

She screamed! The pain that could not be transformed into joy existed in every corner of her soul!

His shriek echoed throughout the realm of the Four Gods, and his wailing continued without ceasing!

After devouring the souls of all the Eldar, Slaanesh... is he stuffed?

Or perhaps, after completely devouring all the spirits, she truly began to nurture the ultimate "god"...

The true god of the Eldar

Not the Dark Prince of Eldar, but Eldar's—

Lord of Darkness

"Croak!"

Slaanesh's wails were so pitiful, yet they could not stop the pain from spreading through his body!

It shatters His existence, tears apart His thoughts, and completely disintegrates and engulfs all of the divine!

And what devoured all of this was the thing growing within her.

That deity who was born only after all the Eldar died, that—

The deceased Jena

Or rather—

Lord of Darkness Jena

Salamuth was terrified, Salamuth was mad and confused! He understood everything, knew everything!

At that moment, Salis was born from the Eldar's pursuit of refraction and the pleasures of the warp.

At the height of her pleasure, she devoured the Eldar gods and seized the throne of the Warp.

But she remained incredibly thirsty, pursuing the soul of every living Elven race member as if she had lost her mind.

This desire was uncontrollable, and He could not find the reason for it.

But now, He understands—that longing comes from the depths of His being, from the convergence of all the thoughts of that spirit race, from the "God" who should have been born, yet was not yet being born.

Slaanesh is not the Dark Lord of Eldar; from the beginning, he was the "Dark Prince"...

A prince who never became king, a god who never became... "The Cursed..."

Hahaha, this joke is fucking hilarious. Slaanesh is not the emperor who became a god, but the current cursed emperor!

The emperor who became a god, the true prince of darkness, a deity born from the descent of an entire race—he was born only at the moment he devoured the last Eldar soul.

And He was the last to die, Jena, the Dark Lord of Eldar.

His birth foreshadowed the demise of sin.

Because this in itself is a commentary on the concept of pleasure—when any enjoyment comes to an end, all that awaits you is boundless peace and tranquility.

No peace and tranquility is more profound than death.

This is why the final sword is called "Slaanesh," because it is the final piece of the Jena puzzle.

Slaanesh panicked; He did not want the pleasure to end. Even more so, He did not want to erase the final peace of His birth, and to accomplish all this, to prevent His own birth—

Slaanesh made the emperor's decision.

With a piercing scream, He cleaved open His own abdomen with His ultimate sword! In endless wailing and the agony of tearing Himself apart, He instantly released the souls of all the Eldar!

In an instant, the thoughts and souls of countless spirits reverberated in the highest heavens, and the storm of souls danced and gathered without ceasing, finally condensing and descending!

From the souls of the Eldar at their inception to Everene, who was ultimately devoured.

All the spirits, their souls were released and returned to the highest heavens.

The entire extinct Eldar civilization thus returned to the world.

The price was the endless wailing of Slaanesh as he ripped open his own abdomen—he would suffer the Emperor's torment, forever becoming the Eldar's "hell," a place where pleasure would cease to exist, where Slaanesh could no longer absorb pleasure and find joy. He could only watch as countless pleasures flowed into him, only to vanish with his dissected body.

This is the ultimate joke of Silero.

In this final act of the drama, Slaanesh exhausted all his strength, casting all his suffering into the echoing heavens…

In the very end, it was Slaanesh who saved Eldar.

The savior who saved Eldar was Slaanesh.

Such an unexpected turn of events, such a dramatic turn of events, and such an outcome—this is the final joke presented by Silego.

Amidst this joke that shook the entire universe, two distinct bursts of wild laughter resounded!

"Hehehe, hahaha!!"

"Guahahaha!!"

Schillero's "accident" created a "joke" that even the Master of All Changes couldn't have predicted, amusing Tzeentch...

He won.

Silego's final joke caught Tzeentch completely off guard, and his "accident" successfully amused him.

Whether or not he laughed was secondary; the most important thing was that this was a change that Tzeentch had not anticipated.

When a change goes unnoticed even by the master of all change, this paradox becomes a deadly phenomenon for Tzeentch. Seizing this opportunity, Schiller immediately devised a complete "drama" for Tzeentch...

In the tides of life, in the storms of action, rising and falling, coming and going in an instant!

Birth and death, the eternal tides, the interweaving of latitude and longitude, the fiery vitality:

I turn the whistling loom of time, weaving a vibrant garment for divinity.

This play, titled The Birth of Slaanesh, adopted the performance format of The Fall of Eldar entirely, featuring a clown, a soloist, and a filmmaker.

While sharing the same setup, the content is entirely different. It creates a farce orchestrated by a clown, reenacting the birth of Slaanesh, but ultimately bringing hope—life—to the Eldar!

The ultimate joke from the clown resounded throughout the heavens!

Slaanesh, who destroyed Eldar, saved Eldar; Death was born from Slaanesh's actions, yet Slaanesh had to save Eldar.

It's comical and laughable, but it's also an unparalleled change born from the law of surprise, and with the performance of the grand clown...

Just moments ago, Tzeentch had the upper hand, but in an instant, the network he had woven was completely wrapped around him!

LEGO has succeeded, without a doubt!

But he still knew all too well that while his fabricated jokes might be able to ensnare or even deceive the cunning and treacherous, he had absolutely no chance of defeating the ever-changing master.

Everything still requires the Lord of Humanity to make the most crucial move.

All hope still rests on that one being in the subspace who is equal in rank to the Four Gods.

kill!kill!kill!

Compared to the battles taking place in the other three Chaos God Realms... without a doubt, the war fought in Khorne's territory was fucking purer and more terrifying!

The Blood God rose from his throne, roaring as he wielded his demonic sword, cleaving his chaotic wasteland into pieces...

At the same time, it used its unparalleled ultimate power to shatter the entire Chaos Realm into pieces!

Even though this was his own territory, Khorne didn't care at all; all he cared about was how to fucking crush his enemies!

And now, he actually has no throne left to sit on.

His brass throne has cracked, and the Tower of Babel, forged from the skulls of countless mortal believers who fought in his name, has collapsed!

But Khorne doesn't care, he fucking doesn't care at all!

If there's an enemy, kill the enemy! If there's an opponent, fucking fight! As one of the top two Chaos Gods in terms of combat power, Khorne fucking scoffs at any complex conceptual battles!

You're trying to stop me from killing, you're standing in my way... well, I'll fucking tear you to pieces, bombard you, and slaughter you to the last drop!

He is perhaps the only one among the Four Gods who is completely indifferent to the enemies standing in his way and that damned sorcerer who plotted against him.

Because he will definitely chop all those annoying, talking nonsense things to pieces!

Or, they'll chop you up!

Since the Unfinished God left his realm of chaos, Khorne had been itching for battle for far too long. He wanted to engage in a frenzied, utterly fucking pleasurable slaughter!

Now, facing the daring Cainkarag who dared to challenge him, and the Blood Shark who ruled over this complete Star God's ultimate body, Khorne's heart was filled only with the desire for battle and ecstasy!

In order to fight more intensely and thoroughly, Khorne even killed all the great demons under his command without any regard for the consequences, concentrating all his power to experience endless joy in the slaughter and battle!

"Come on, Kane, let me smash you to pieces again, ten thousand pieces still won't be enough!!"

Khorne roared as his blood-red, lightning-infused demonic sword relentlessly attacked Kane!

Every strike spills a layer of bloody battle, and every massacre further ravages this complete chaotic realm!