[40k, CultistxChaos Spawn, CultistxPsyker, Cuddling, DP, TF]

The iridescent forms of the daemons, lacking physical bodies, passed through the camp with ease, ignoring buildings or blockades as Drusus’ ore hauler trudged in pursuit. It’s heavy, rusted treads tore up the packed earth as the psykers followed. The coffee had long since been burnt, but Drusus sipped it anyways, needing the alertness it provided in these late hours.
“I think I know where their going; I’ve driven this route before,” said Drusus.
“This is the way to Lord Myy’s tent, Isabel. Did you know these daemons would lead us here?”
“Its Noose witch boy, Noose. At least you’ve been trained in this stuff, why would they be doing this?”
“The Gods, Isabel, The Gods. Either they want to show us something, or it’s a trap.”
“And if it is? What do we do?”
“Frankly? Not a clue.”
Noose swallowed, nervously scratching the red spines that had emerged from her thighs. Their tips were sharp, and though she was sure she would cut herself on them from how much they hurt, no blood was shed. 

Nekhii Myy’s command tent was a towering black shelter resembling the yurts the Tarnished Spear’s ancestors would lie in, but many times larger and more sinister. The collapsible circular tent of felt and skins, both animal, xenos and human, was stretched over a steel pole thirty feet tall, both the pole and the body of the yurt detailed with chaotic symbols and black lightning bolts. Drusus pulled the clumsy vehicle behind an earthen wall, out of sight of his master’s yurt. Normally the noise from the heavy vehicle would have been loud enough for anyone to notice its advance, but in the heart of the chaos encampment, with heretical brigands fighting and satisfying their debased needs to all sides, equally noisy vehicles driving at all hours of the day, it was just one sound among many. Noose craned her neck, the last of the flickering figures disappearing through the yurt’s blackened fabric. 

“Isabel, I don’t like the look of this. Master Myy would kill the likes of us for what we’re doing.”
“Shut it, I just want to know what is going on with me.”
Drusus shook his head as they left the vehicle. He wore the same matte grey flak armor he always wore, along with the oversized black scarf he had looted from the same place Noose’s favorite underpants came from. Though his mind was a more potent weapon than anything he could carry, a semiautomatic stubber was holstered at his hip, just in case. He had given Noose a spare set of ill-fitting body armor afforded to him as Nekhii Myy’s acolyte, but she found it irritating over her new mutation and wore it piecemeal. She had with her just an auto pistol and a crooked combat knife, and though her potential for psychic power was astronomical, she had never used it, just as much a danger to herself as to others.

The pair of psykers crawled towards the yurt, sensing light and sound coming from within. 
“Stop Isabel, we cant go any further. Lord Myy-”
Noose grabbed him by his scarf, yanking him towards her face. Though she hadn’t pulled very hard, she yanked Drusus off his feet, sending the bigger man sprawling in the dirt.
“Listen to me you Khorne-damned sycophant,” she hissed, holding the bald psyker centimeters from her spiked face.
“If there’s a chance, just a tiny, insignificant chance that Myy betrayed our Lord, I plan to find it. I owe it to him, and you do too. What’s that shit from the Liber Chaotica about misfortune? That its all Their way of making us do something?”
Drusus wheezed, Noose’s grip on his scarf choking him like her namesake. When he found the air to breathe he hoarsely responded.
“That any tragedy suffered, be it sickness, death, change or corruption, is The Gods acting upon our lives. As The Urizen said, a follower of these powers must realize that these misfortunes are the ways our gods guide us.”
“That’s the one. Now look at me, fucking look at me! Would The Gods have done this to me if they didn’t want me to act on it? To avenge Lord Khünbish?”
“Don’t think that you can interpret their wills so easily Isabel,” wheezed Drusus.
“Stuff it witch boy. If you have any sense of loyalty left in you, you’re helping me get in there so we can avenge our lord, understand?”

Drusus nodded. As much as Nekhii Myy’s training had ingrained a sense of loyalty to the sorcerer, Drusus’ superstition and fear of the things that lurked in the warp was greater. They visited him nightly, gnawing at the edges of his sanity and whispering terrible half-truths. The impossible genesis of Noose’s powers scared him more than Myy ever had.

Noose’s head burned, sending waves of turquoise warpstuff over the pair. Drusus recognized the power she had used, however unintentionally. Their signatures were masked, and Lord Myy or any other psykers would be unable to detect them by psychic means. Noose’s nose bled from the effort and she stumbled, clutching her head. Drusus held her shoulder and asked “Did you mean to do that Isabel?”
“I’m not really sure what I did. I was just thinking that Myy could find us with his powers and thought we should make it so there was no warp around us so he couldn’t, and then this just happened.”
“Tzeentch above, you may be right about all that divine purpose stuff, that's incredible.”

The pair crawled to the side of the huge tent, keeping their frames low to the ground and making as little noise as possible. Despite Noose’s power, Myy was still an Astartes, and possessed hearing superior to any normal human. Both psykers could hear several voices from inside, the fabric of the yurt doing little to muffle the sounds from within.

“Serei’s Sons are restless Myy, the passing of our lord still weighs heavy in our hearts,” said a voice neither psyker recognized.
“Yes Myy, Lord Ongweild speaks the truth. We offered his life for your ambitions thinking this plan would be resolved smoothly, yet still the warbands have yet to mobilize,” said a second.
“I understand your frustration my coven,” said Nekhii Myy’s deep, bovine voice.
“But this plan takes time, lots of time. Were you not nearly discovered modifying the tally-servitors Lord Skudrinka? Ongweild, did you not fail to restrain your warband from attacking ours?”
The first voice responded, “we recognize our failures, Lord Myy, but when this scheme of uniting our warbands-” 
“Under our absolute control,” interjected the second.
“-under our absolute control,” continued the first voice, “we were told it would be done with expedience, with speed. It has taken you how long, Lord Myy, to appoint a successor to the Tarnished Spears? Already opportunities for plunder and conquest are flying by this world, and still you delay the grand scheme!”

Noose stared, wide eyed at Drusus, whose mouth was agape.
*Did you know about this?* she mouthed to the acolyte, who somberly shook his head.
*Have to stop him* she mouthed, *not what the master would have wanted.*
Drusus swallowed dryly and nodded. He didn’t agree with her on the inside, and the stress of the situation was causing his powers to flare up; already he could feel tiny sparks of warpfire flying from his fingertips.

“My warband is still not ready to join with yours,” responded Myy. The psykers outside could hear his heavy staff thud against the ground, punctuating his statement.
“A disharmonious union with The Sons will prove ruinous for both our warbands. Again I insist we must wait until Terbish’s incompetence makes itself known, then and only then will I allow the next phase to begin.”

Drusus and Noose withdrew to the ore hauler, a crowd of capering, indistinct daemons close behind. 
“Now do you see what I was saying? The gods did this to me so I could stop him, I know it! C’mon lets get back to the truck. ”
“Isabel, this looks like something much to big for the likes of us. Let’s sleep on this, think about it in the morning.”
Noose nodded in agreement, the long day having taken its toll on her. Drusus drove the ore hauler back to where it originally was. Noose had fallen asleep in the passenger seat, her head hung over her shoulder and her mouth slightly agape. Drusus could see the daemonic shapes dancing around them, their incorporeal forms ignoring the rules of physics. This was something dangerous Noose had dragged him into, something very dangerous. Sweat beaded on his forehead, turning to steam from the heat his small discharges of psychic power caused. Drusus hooked his arms under Noose’s knees and neck, picking up the smaller woman and carrying her to the back of the vehicle. He had to take care not to prick himself on her new spines, and she felt much heavier then her thin form would imply. Perhaps it was something to do with that phenomenal burst of strength she had demonstrated, another aspect of her aberrant powers.

The acolyte laid her down on the cot, blinking with his transparent eyelids. She was very pretty, even with her mutation, he could appreciate that. Several violet daemon silhouettes, likely Slaaneshi handmaidens, rose from beneath the floor. Their forms, though blurry and indistinct, were still alluring and feminine. Their insubstantial hands, sometimes looking like manicured fingers, sometimes chitinous talons, sometimes bestial paws, stroked the sleeping cultist, sometimes fading through her where they passed over her. Drusus sighed, it was very late, very late indeed. With a surge of mental effort he disabled his warpsight, banishing the ghostly temptresses from vision. Still, he pulled the dogskin garment from her chest, taking care not to wake her. Her tattooed breasts hung from he chest, the piercings almost indistinguishable from her nipple in the dim light. Drusus felt no shame forcing himself on Imperials, having even plundered Tau women, but still his face became flush looking at the helpless Noose. 

“Only have the one cot,” he thought as he pulled off his armor and tossed it aside. He lay beside Noose, his head on her shoulder and his legs behind the crook of her knees. He held her tightly around the waist, softly spooning her. A sleepy groan caught in the mohawked girl’s throat, her eyes still shut. Drusus kissed her just behind the ear, gently tracing the lightning bolt tattoos on her face, taking care to avoid her spines. The semi-conscious Noose started to move with his motions, allowing him to push their hips further. Noose’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, seeing several lecherous daemonic silhouettes standing over them, their ghostly movements crude and masturbatory. She shut her eyes and gently moved her hand to hold the back of Drusus’ head, a few of her sharp spines brushing against his skin. 

The acolyte winced, but pressed his chin against her collarbone as she pulled him closer. He whispered softly to her, muttering affectionate, but meaningless words. Drusus’ penis had long been erect, and he slowly pulled down Noose’s shorts, probing with a finger for her vagina. She was wet, and Drusus slipped a pair of his digits inside to test her tightness. As he did so she pressed back against him, drawing more of his fingers inside. 

Drusus withdrew and pushed the head of his cock into Noose, holding her tight against him. The mutant woman groaned, her free hand reaching to her loins and rubbing Drusus’ shaft. He gently fucked her, pushing their hips forward then pulling back, slowly and softly. Noose’s spines were an obstacle, but he managed to navigate her body after a few painful pricks. Noose pressed back into him, rubbing her penetrated pussy as he entered. Soft waves of pleasure rolled through Noose, and though her eyes were shut she could sense, somehow, the purple-pink clouds of warpstuff shooting out of her. Though her partner could control his powers, Noose was not as skilled, and tiny arcs of electricity arced from her spikes to the metal floor, temporarily illuminating the dark ore hauler. Drusus couldn’t help but notice the irony, the woman decorated with thunderbolts projecting them.

She pressed back against him, squeezing tight on his cock as she came, a cloud of tiny, orange motes of light exploding from her mouth. They hung there for a moment before settling, leaving an acrid smell and a foul taste in the air. Drusus slid out of her and pressed his cock between her cheeks, squeezing his prick between them. He used the quivering cultist’s butt as an improvised fleshlight, until he too came too, his seed shooting onto the falcon tattoo at the base of her spine. 

Even after their orgasms, they held each other, Drusus nuzzling the back of her head and rubbing her waist, Noose brushing the tips of her toes against his. The night had been strange and frightening for both of them, but it was a nice way to end it.

Even as the sun rose, the ore-hauler trudged through the camp. It had rained last night, turning the earthen roads to mud. The heavy vehicle sank in the sludge, but still they managed to reach their destination before most of the warband had awakened. The Kalmyk’s heavy footfalls rang in the distance as the Titan patrolled the camp’s perimeter, heavy weapons scanning the skies for imagined threats. The pair of psykers leapt from the rear of the vehicle, lowering the ramp that led into the squat living quarters. 
“By the Plaugefather,” said Drusus, his hand flying to his mouth, “I cant believe it. I mean I heard about his punishment, but I never saw him like this. He was so, so, godsdamn I cant find the words!” 
A crackle of electricity ran up the frustrated psyker’s spine, his bizarre eyelids blinking rapidly. 
Noose approached the cage, carrying a bowl of freshly brewed coffee. “Don’t tell me, tell him.”

Drusus tentatively walked towards Khünbish. He had mutated severely since last night, his form now halfway between equine and bovine. His bloated torso was supported by four thick legs, two of them ending in heavy, split hooves and the others in fat toes. His skin was still pearly white, but tiny red tendrils, none longer than a few inches, coated his torso. A thick, reptilian tail hung from his legs, and where his head should be was the helmet. It was as though it’s beak had pushed forth from inside the spawn, pushing aside flesh and breaking the skin like a metallic birth. Noose held up the pot of brown drink to the bars of the cage and creature approached her on shaky legs. Khünbish stuck the tip of his tail into the stuff, a tiny, circular mouth visible at the end of it. As the strange creature slurped up the coffee Drusus put his hands on the bars, both disgusted and captivated.
“This is Drusus, my lord. He’s one of Lord Myy’s acolytes.” Khünbish stomped and turned his ceramite face to Drusus, his beaked visage constantly glaring. Despite the rain, the abuse and the dirt, somehow the helmet was still resplendent and clean.
“Don’t worry, he’s a friend. You were right about Lord Myy master, he and the sorcerers from Serei’s Sons planned this from the start. I think they want to rule both warbands as one, and they even rigged the Game of Favor so you’d lose. I presume, master, that they knew you would slay Serei for it.”

At the mention of the Game of Favor Khünbish reared back, his tendrils waving wildly. The vox in his helmet uttered a triumphant blast as he celebrated his victory, regardless of his current form. Drusus finally found the courage to speak, looking at his feet as he did so.
“I cant begin to describe my sorrow Lord Khünbish. I have served a thrice damned traitor and will forever be cursed for it, but me and Isabel have decided to do something about him. I hope my efforts are enough for your forgiveness, Lord.”

Noose could see strange things all around the cage. The spectral daemons flitted in and out of focus, and she could see the runes on the cage glowing brightly. Around Khünbish’s helmet was a flickering black flame that shed no light, simply dancing and soundlessly waving in the morning air. A pair of fiendish yellow silhouettes capered around the bars, almost taunting Noose with their ghostliness. They could pass through the cage with ease, but Khünbish, far their better, was chained within! In fury Noose swiped at the bars, hoping to drive the daemons away with her flailing.

Instead the bar she struck broke; caving harshly to the side. Noose froze and blinked at her open hand, unsure of where that phenomenal strength had come from. Khünbish turned on her and pawed the ground impatiently, his tail waving wildly. Noose pried at another bar, and found it bent like paper. Eventually she had created enough space so that she could fit inside. Quickly, she sprinted inside the cage and seized one of the hooks embedded in Khünbish’s skin. She looked apologetically at his helmet, but found only the cold ceramite stare. She held her breath and slid the hook out, the spawn’s tendrils waving in pain as she did so. 
“I’m sorry master, I’m sorry” she said as she unhooked the next one. Thick, slow-running ichor ran from Khünbish’s wounds, but he could move freely now. It and Noose moved to the edge of the cage where she broke open an exit for him.

“This way my Lord!” Shouted Drusus from the top of the ramp, waving into the ore hauler. The spawn galloped into the vehicle, a large mob of intangible daemonic shapes and Noose trailing behind. Khünbish howled in triumph as his liberator arrived in the now cramped vehicle, his mismatched legs thudding against the metal as he made small, happy hops. When she arrived she threw her arms around the beasts tentacled neck and placed a sloppy kiss on the tip of his metal beak. Drusus retracted the ramp and started to drive, leaving the camp entirely and making his way into the ruined hive city nearby.

Though they had to keep out of the way of other scavengers, lest one of them recognize Khünbish, the trio located a pond and washed the mutating creature, Drusus trying to anoint him with the same reverence he gave Nekhii Myy. There was little space for the trio to sleep inside their vehicle, but they found many ruined buildings that could accommodate Khünbish’s strange form. For days they lived on cured dog flesh, rainwater and whatever else they could scavenge or kill. Noose found that as time went by the visions faded and her psychic powers started to dim. It was on these nights Khünbish would fuck her again, embracing her with his tentacles and shooting fresh warpstuff into her body. At first Drusus couldn’t watch the horrid creature ravish his former lover, but after the second time he observed out of curiosity. It was erotic, sensual, and Drusus found his erection springing to action when he saw how lewdly Noose moaned. He consulted the rituals Lord Myy had taught him, calling forth Daemonettes to service him as he watched Khünbish and Noose’s unions. The time not spent foraging for food and shelter was occupied by Drusus teaching Noose how to utilize her psychic powers, how to keep the dark energies from leaking out, how to focus them into affecting the Materium. 

It had been weeks since their exodus from the Tarnished Spear’s camp. A minor daemon Drusus had bound, a Screamer he called it, had just returned from scouting the chaos forces’ base. 
“They have assembled, both forces,” Drusus dryly said over a pot of boiling rainwater. Noose stirred it slowly, tossing in a few chunks of raw meat. The food was from a grox, now long turned feral, that Khünbish had hunted, dragging it back with a quartet of ropelike arms. He enjoyed the hunt, a legacy of his former life on the steppes of Chogoris, the home of the White Scars.
“Isabel, if there were a time to do anything, it would be now. They’re going to leave Goshen V soon, and then we’ll never get Myy.”
Noose muttered something under her breath, her eyes fixated on the horde of dozens of ghostly daemons, some as tall as a tree, that surrounded their shelter. Every day it seemed more were present, and she was beginning to recognize the shapes; some were certainly staying with her, following them. She stirred the pot of grox meat, pondering the future.
“I don’t know about anything after, but I’m ready. We drive in, kill Myy, then let The Gods decide what happens.”
“Right. Kill an Astartes, and a sorcerer at that, in the heart of his own warband. Just us two and, with all do respect to his lordship, a chaos spawn.”
The creature was standing outside the shelter, chewing on the corpse of the grox. It roared in protest to Drusus’ offhand insult.
“Yup, that’s the plan. I hope the Lord of Skulls is with us today, because he’s the only help we’re getting.”
“I guess you and the master need some alone time then, I’ll give you some privacy. And Isabel?”
“Yes?”
“Whatever you become, no matter how horrid…”
“What is it Drusus?”
“Noose is still an awful nickname.”

Noose rubbed Khünbish, feeling the twisted backbone that ran through him.
“Master, it’s time. We’re going back, to stop Myy.”
The spawn lifted its mouths, placed at the ends of tentacles, and turned its head. It rarely deviated from it’s quadruped form, only making minor alterations here and there. It seemed to have more and more control over how its body appeared, often making changes on the fly and retracting them later, like the extended mouths it now possessed. 
“Whatever you did to do this to me,” she flicked a patch of spines, “I need more of it. As much as you can give me.”

The spawn writhed and bubbled, its form changing. Noose stood back, no longer repulsed by her master’s transformations. It’s lower legs became more muscular, retaining their hooves but becoming more human-like. It’s forelegs retracted, the hooves becoming clusters of five writhing tendrils. Khünbish’s body warped, becoming less bestial and more humanoid, with a broad chest and abnormally small abdomen. His muscular arms and legs adjusted their positions, the creature changing into a bipedal, tailed form. His helmet still served as his ‘head’, and sets of red spikes grew from his shoulders. His crotch spasmed, and a set of male genitalia grew; an asymmetric, bumpy, ringed, veiny phallus and a massive scrotum with eight testicles. 

Noose swallowed in fear and muttered a brief prayer to Slaanesh, appealing to the Dark Prince to let her enjoy this. She slowly let her hands traverse her sides, rubbing herself as the monster approached her. He loomed over her, nearly fourteen feet tall. Undeterred, Noose wiggled out of her pants, bearing her crotch to the mutated Chaos Lord. It kept advancing on her, until her back was to a rockcrete wall. One of his tendril-tipped limbs grabbed her wrists and pulled them above her head, pining them out of the way of her body. Noose struggled for a moment before letting him take control, submitting to her master’s will.

His other limb wrapped its flexible digits around her waist and rear, their mutable lengths extending to wrap around her midriff and cheeks. With a pained growl, Khünbish thrust himself straight into Noose’s sex, ignoring any need for lubrication or foreplay. Noose clutched at the wriggling tendrils that held her as he began to fuck her with complete abandon, smacking her back into the ruined wall and levering her thighs upwards with each thrust. The spawn fucked clumsily, uncaring of anything but the need to hilt himself. The roughness of the wall against her back and butt and Khünbish’s callousness served to augment the intensity of the fuck, and Noose found her arousal blossoming. She tried to wrap her legs around Khünbish’s waist, her legs not long enough to completely encircle him, but still allowing him to fuck deeper into her, delighting in his bumpy, uneven mass pounding into her. Her cunt dribbled juices around his massive, disproportionate dick, practically gushing as his ribbed length rubbed forcefully along her sensitive tunnel. The power and intensity at which the spawn thrust into her would likely have hurt, maybe even killed a human woman, but the mutated Noose found what would have cracked her pelvis weeks ago was now an intensely pleasurable fuck. Small cracks appeared in the wall behind them with each thrust, and chips of the rockcrete fell to the ground from Khünbish’s powerful movements.

The rough sex knocked the breath and sense out of Noose, rendering her dizzy, gasping and making guttural noises as Khünbish’s thumping made her pussy clench and spasm around him. The former Chaos Lord was far from finished, however, and several of his tendrils extended from his body; some latching onto and groping Noose’s breasts, others shooting into her mouth to play with her tongue. His arms pulled her up, spinning her around and putting her down gently but firmly, positioning her on her knees, facing away from him. One hand held her arms behind her back, the other still squeezing her lower body. He thrust back into her, her dripping cunt offering no resistance whatsoever. His thick, uneven rod brushed every wall and spot of her eager pussy, its strange nubs and ridges stroking her more sensitive spots. He pulled back on her wrists, pulling Noose into him as he sheathed himself in her, beating a wet staccato against her backside. The tendrils probing her breasts found her piercings, tugging and fondling them, causing little bolts of pleasure-pain to shoot through Noose. Khünbish rutted himself, rapidly pulling out as far as possible and slamming back as hard and deep as he could, sometimes eliciting a muffled yelp from his servant. He stopped when his cock was embedded as deep as it could go, causing Noose to beg and moan, into his probing tendrils for him to continue. They encircled her tongue, constricting around it and forming a tight seal, tugging and rubbing it in time with Khünbish’s thrusts. Noose pushed back against him as she was fucked, the intense heat within her coming to a crescendo as she came again. Something was happening to the helmet atop Khünbish, she could feel it with whatever perverse senses her gift had given her. The black flame that danced around it expanded, becoming a towering inferno as more and more warp energies were drawn into it, causing a strange buzzing sound to fill the air. Dozens of leering, spectral daemons watched, their indistinct limbs pleasuring themselves as they watched the psyker be fucked. More were drawn to the pair as the black flame swelled, like unholy moths to a flame. 

Khünbish let out a bestial howl, tugging back on Noose’s arms so she was pulled up, her torso hanging horizontally in the air. Every one of his now clumsy thrusts caused her to groan in intense pleasure, her eyes long since rolled back into her head. Again her loins trembled, orgasming from her master’s attentions. He pumped her exactly eight more times, each one harder than the last, each powerful enough to break a normal woman’s bones. 

Then the towering warp-flame above Khünbish shrank down to a tiny spark, his eight testicles trembling as their unholy seed shot into her. Chaotic energies, far deadlier and more powerful than anything he had given Noose before shot through his mutant pecker, finally her physique and soul were strong enough to withstand it. Power drawn straight from The Four; the raw energies of Khorne, Tzeentch, Nurgle and Slaanesh imbued his cum as it painted her insides. Noose could see blooming bursts of warp energy erupting from her like a geyser, becoming every color of the visible spectrum and then some that couldn’t exist in nature. Khünbish’s tendrils withdrew from her mouth as Noose howled, bestial and uninhibited, her cunt sending multiple orgasms through her as the unholy power melded with her being. The spines that already decorated her body became thinner and sharper, and her eyes shot colored light like two unholy searchlights. Her mohawk stood on end from the powers shooting into her, and her tongue extended several inches, becoming long and flexible. Her teeth changed, becoming thinner and sharper, like a predator's. Still the uninhibited power shot into her, changing her even further.

The Kalmyk stood in the center of the field of congealed blood, long since dried and caked over. The thousands of heretics, both from Serei’s Sons and the Tarnished Spears stood assembled, the massive war machine at the heart of them. Atop it’s equine cockpit stood Nekhii Myy and his coven, as well as Terbish and a trio of terminators. They carried storm shields and combi-bolters, not trusting anyone in the assembled horde. Terbish stood bound and unarmored, chained to a black Star of Chaos.
“It is clear to us,” said Nekhii Myy through The Kalymyk’s klaxons, “that The Gods only meant to test Champion Terbish with leadership.”
A heavy vehicle was slowly making its way through the crowd, worming its way towards The Kalmyk.
“And seeing his failure to control this warband, his utter incompetence to organize our departure from this world, it is clear they found him wanting.”
The Tarnished Spears cheered, lusting for blood even as they stood in it.

“It is clear to this assembled coven, all of us being favored by The Four, that The Gods will us to lead these warbands until a lord worthy of their attention is revealed.”
Nekhii Myy pushed Terbish, the awkward star chained to him causing the marine to stumble. He lost his footing, slipping off the Warhound, tumbling through the air until he hit the ground with a sickening crunch. He still moved, his enhanced physique allowing him to withstand awful wounds. But those wounds would go forever untreated, and the assembled heretics ignored him after their initial cheering died down.
The vehicle was close enough to the titan for Nekhii Myy to see, and for a moment he thought he recognized it, but discounted the notion as he continued his speech. 
“The Sons and The Spears will become one! Together the galaxy will burn! Let this day forever be remembered for our unification, a celebration of Chaos Undivided!”
The crowd cheered, and Myy threw up his arms, basking in their applause. Skudrinka, a tall, thin xenos covered in feathers and Ongweild, a corpulent, ancient human, stood to his sides, just as absorbed in the crowd’s approval. After a few minutes they waved for the crowd to quiet down, and Myy caught the sight of that ore-hauler again, now only a few dozen meters from The Kalmyk. 

The trio of sorcerers and their honor guard descended from The Kalmyk, Ongweild and Skudrinka chuckling to themselves as they did so. That very same ore-hauler Nekhii Myy had seen approaching the Titan stood not twenty feet away, and it was then recognition dawned on him. It belonged to his cowardly apprentice, the traitor who had been fool enough to flee the camp with what had once been Khünbish. They had all seen the tracks it made in the fresh mud, but Nekhii Myy had forbidden pursuit of him, not wanting to distract from his grand scheme.

“Nekhii Myy the traitor! I challenge you for the leadership of this warband!” shouted a voice from inside the vehicle. It wasn’t particularly loud, yet somehow it made itself heard to every individual on the dried blood-pit. The sorcerer scoffed and waved his staff, invoking the power of warpsight to spy who it was that had threatened him. If it wasn’t for his bovine helmet, the other sorcerers would have seen the shocked expression on Nekhii Myy’s scarred face. An army of insubstantial daemons, of all sizes and breeds surrounded the vehicle, from the bloated outline of a Great Unclean One to the shifting, glowing shapes of Tzeentch’s Flamers. But it was the unbearable scale of the power he saw within that vehicle, psychic energy on a scale only a Daemon Prince could hope to match that truly frighted him.

The terminators readied their weapons and opened fire on the ore hauler, explosive bolter rounds and plasma bolts flying through the air toward the vehicle. Ongeweild and Skudrinka added bolts of psychic energy, crackling red thunderbolts that arced through the air toward their target. It was then the daemons materialized, every single indistinct silhouette bursting into physical form. It was the latent power of the blood-pits, the charms that had allowed the thousands of daemonic warriors to manifest here still active in the dried blood. The marines attacks impacted harmlessly against the daemons, and the psychic bolts from the sorcerers wavered and fizzled out. The Great Unclean One seized a Tarnished Spear in it’s pudgy hands, twisting the armored warrior until it snapped in two. Frilled Khornate hounds tore into Ongeweild, ripping him to bloody bits and devouring him in instants. Skudrinka was overwhelmed by a flight of Flamers, their eldritch fires consuming him and leaving nothing but a charred husk. Again came the amplified voice from within the vehicle.
“Nekhii Myy the traitor! All your plans lie in ruins, accept my challenge for leadership of the Tarnished Spears, or watch as the gods punish your duplicity!”

The sorcerer struck his staff against the ground, causing a dome of unholy energy to expand from him, forcing away the mob of bloodletters that advanced on him.
“Show yourself daemon! I accept, but you will not find me wanting!”
Noose stepped from the ore-hauler’s rear, dropping to the ground. Her fingers ended in long, red claws as sharp as a monoknife, her extremities dotted with sharp red spines. Her white hair blew wildly in a breeze that wasn’t there, and her eyes pulsed with every color of the warp. The tattoos that lined her naked body fluctuated between impossible pigmentations, shades that only existed in the immaterial realm flowing over her body. But what startled Nekhii Myy was the corona of energies, more powerful than he had ever seen, that surrounded her, a veritable hurricane of warpstuff. 
“You betrayed our master Myy, you betrayed the Tarnished Spears!” Rang her voice, somehow audible to the entire assembled crowd.
“And who are you to make such a claim witch?”
“One who has been favored and chosen by The Four. Chosen to punish you for your hubris.”
“Enough!” Shouted the Astartes, flinging his hand forwards and striking Noose with a torrent of white-hot warpfire.

The naked Daemon Prince recoiled from the psychic assault, her spiky form falling to a kneeling position, her hands above her head. Myy grinned beneath his horned helmet, pouring more energy into the attack. But Noose stood up, slowly and wobbly at first, pushing back against the fiery attack. There was a bark, like that of some impossibly gargantuan hound, and the beam of flame vanished. From Noose’s eyes shot lightning bolts, black as night, that struck Myy across his armored chest. Though he stumbled, the Chaos Marine was far from finished, and drew his force-spear. Thumbing the activation rune, he sent his vile mental power coursing into the weapon’s head, causing it to glow with dark energies. 

Noose launched another volley of blackness but the space marine moved with a speed his heavy armored body would suggest impossible, sprinting like the experienced steppe hunter he was. Before she could react, Nekhii Myy had lunged at her, thrusting his deadly spear right at her heart. Her incandescent eyes wide with fright, Noose twisted away, the point of the weapon barely missing her naked chest. Myy reacted, slamming his armored elbow into her face. He expected his enhanced physique to send her sprawling, a blow like that could kill a human, but the daemoness took it, stumbling back and clutching her face, but very much alive. Myy drew his spear back for another thrust, calling forth a pestilent cloud of Nurgle’s flies from the Immaterium. Noose shielded her eyes from the diseased insects, swatting them away with her razor sharp claws. The Astartes leaped into the air and drove his spear down, piercing her thigh with its unholy head. Nekhii Myy twisted the shaft, causing further trauma in the nude daemoness’ body. 
“Where is the god’s favor now witch?” Bellowed the sorcerer through his helmet’s vox.
“It lies with me, that’s where,” he said as he sent killing bolts of mental energy through the force weapon. More than enough to kill, he thought, even a Chaos Lord would fall to this level of psychic might.

Noose writhed under the spear, dark energies threatening to overwhelm her and destroy her enhanced form. All the power Khünbish had invested in her, causing her once human form to become that of a Daemon Prince, and still she was struggling to contend with the sorcerer. Struggling, she wrapped her clawed hands around the spear’s shaft, pushing the weapon out of her body. Nekhii Myy pushed back, his already phenomenal strength amplified by the ancient power armor he wore. Shrieking in agony, she managed to overpower him momentarily, driving the cursed weapon from her body. Myy kept pushing, causing the weapon to embed itself in the ground as Noose rolled away from it. She raised her red claws and raked them across her opponent’s ceramite back, causing damage to the power suit but not it’s wearer. The sorcerer rose and swiped a backhand blow at his enemy, missing by a scant few centimeters. The flies still swarming around her and irritating her wound, Noose shot more bolts of ebon lightning as Nekhii Myy opened himself up with his missed blow. The psychic attack staggered him, black arcs of electricity causing his armor to seize up. Nekhii Myy tried to summon his powers, but his foe’s claws drove themselves into the gap in his armor by his neck. 

Nekhii Myy’s ceramite-clad fist slammed into Noose’s chest, knocking the wind from her, but still she drove the claws deeper into his throat. Her other hand gripped Nekhii Myy’s force spear, prying it from the sorcerer’s hands. Holding him still with her claws in his neck, she raised the weapon above her head before driving it down into Nekhii Myy’s horned visage.

The horde of daemons surrounding them howled in jubilation as Nekhii Myy’s life left his body. The Kalmyk turned its massive frame to look at the carnage, consulting its targeting logarithms to see if this was a threat. Noose clutched her wound, multi-colored ichor leaking from the hold in her side. 
“My name is Noose, and The Four have chosen me to claim these warbands for Khünbish The Breaker” said her amplified voice, “Nekhii Myy betrayed both your hosts, and his plan slew lord Serei and cursed lord Khünbish. In his stead, I will lead this force, as The Gods of Chaos wish me to do.”
The daemons cheered, but the assembled warriors stood silent. 
“If any further proof of my favor by The Chaos Gods is needed, I can provide it,” she said, as a colossal bolt of black lightning crashed from the heavens.

The Kalmyk sounded its victory horns, rearing back it’s equine head and firing into the sky. One by one, the factions that made up Serei’s Sons and the Tarnished Spears joined in the celebration, swearing oaths to the Daemon Prince that now led them.

								EPILOGUE

Lord Noose the Exalted left the bridge of the battle cruiser as it entered warpspace. It would be a long voyage to the Eye of Terror, and her fleet was swollen with plunder from the Imperial system of Uredius. As she strode through the twisted hallways of the ship, her favorite dog following close behind, oblivious to her otherworldly nature. After her rise to power she had secured many of the things forbidden to her as a cultist; a pack of purebred hounds, comfortable clothes, proper armor, even her very own chainsword. She had even returned to Puzzlemask and taken her favorite underwear back, enjoying watching the grotesque merchant grovel as much as having her panties returned. 

Her Lord Sorcerer, aide and right-hand man messaged her on the vox. Though she was now a Daemon Prince, and the ways of the warp were as clear as day to her, he was still a valuable resource as much as a friend.
“Everything’s good on my end Isabel; Gellar field is up, warp runes in place, fresh daemons bound to the engine.”
“I’d think you’d have the decency to call me Noose by now, Drusus. I could have your head thrown into the Skull Throne for that kind of disrespect.”
“I told you, no matter what you became it was a ridiculous name. Anyways, its looking like a pretty stable voyage, gods willing.”
“The Kalmyk, his daemons bound properly? It took some damage on Uredius Prime and I don’t want it failing on us.”
“Relax Isabel, Magos Chimeros has been mending it ever since we left. Just relax and let the trip go by.”
“Oh I plan on it. Want to join us in ‘relaxing’?”
“You can start without me, I’m instructing my apprentices right now. I’ll be there tonight, I swear on The Prince.”
“Fair enough Drusus, see you then.”

Noose closed the vox and approached her quarters on the ship. It had formerly belonged to Khünbish the Breaker, and in a sense it still did. The chaos spawn was washed and anointed daily, his helmet kept in the same pristine condition it had been in when she gave it to him on Goshen V. Regular human sacrifices were offered to him, and Drusus led both warbands in regular prayers offering forgiveness for their betrayal of The Breaker. 

His form was serpentine today, reptilian and limbless. As the Daemon Prince entered her room and hung her fur cape on the wall and let her dog off the leash she smiled at him. Though in truth Noose the Exalted was more powerful than the spawn and no longer required intercourse with Khünbish to renew her powers, she still considered Khünbish her master. Still she idolized him; the shrine in his honor had long become a towering edifice of unholy iron and skulls, his human face painted in fresh blood daily upon a canvas of flesh. She stripped her ceremonial armor off; made from a desecrated Sister of Battle’s chest piece; an armored black bra that covered her upper torso but left her midriff exposed and a short skirt of ceramite plate mail. Noose flopped down on her bed, a luxurious cushiony object stolen from a Rogue Trader, as Kunbish slithered up beside her. 
“They say two months master, two months until we reach The Eye.”
She retracted her claws and embraced the spawn, hugging him close to her. 
“That’s two months to ourselves, just you and me. And Drusus, if you’re ok with sharing.”
The spawn gurgled in agreement, wrapping its mutable form around Noose. The tiny tendrils lining its body tickled the daemoness, the lower half of its serpentine form winding around her right leg. The spines that dotted her body didn’t bother the creature; its flesh was malleable enough that the small pricks and penetrations couldn’t do him harm. 

Noose kissed the cold beak of the enchanted helmet, rubbing her long, flexible tongue along it’s underside.
“Have I done well leading The Tarnished Spears my lord?” She asked in her best bedroom voice. It was low and full of sexual energy, a gift from Slaanesh.
Khünbish tightened around her in response, a pair of cocks starting to emerge from his flesh.
“Then reward me, master.”

Khünbish gently prodded her cunt and asshole with his phalluses, nuzzling her face with his metallic beak as he did so. She pecked him with kisses, stroking the oxhair topknot lovingly. The chaotic serpent pressed his cocks into his servant, penetrating her. Slowly, it constricted and loosened its coils, pleasurably fucking the Daemon Prince. She moaned in pleasure, holding him just as tight and wrapping her free leg around him. Each time his dicks pushed their length in her, her numerous tattoos pulsed a different eldritch color, and soon he was penetrating Noose as deep as he could. Her ass squeezed tightly on his daemonic dick, and her cunt was just as welcoming. Noose’s vagina could feel the pressure from the cock in her ass, and vice versa. A warm, welcoming heat was spreading through her daemonic body, and she started to pant and moan in pleasure. Her long tongue danced with a tendril of Khünbish’s, their lengths intertwining. 

Noose let out a long, satisfied sigh and squeezed her mutant lover tight, his penetrations slowly bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. Her eyes fluttered as he pressed into her with increasing rapidity, his coils squeezing her tight. She felt safe with him, wrapped in his welcoming, loving body. Her toes twitched and curled and she let out a satisfied moan as she came, unholy fluids squirting from her cunt. Khünbish’s cocks twitched from her contractions, and his seed shot into her.

They stayed coiled together for hours, rubbing each other and teasing each other’s sex. Noose was beginning to fall asleep, though to this day she was unsure if her daemonic body required it, when Drusus flung open the door.

“Am I too late to join in?” He said, unzipping his pants.
“Mmm, you’re just in time. Come here and serve your lords Drusus, the gods demand it.”
Khünbish’s members sprang to renewed attention as the sorcerer crawled onto the bed above the coiled daemons, and Noose smiled in pure happiness.

She gripped Drusus’ cock with one hand and started stroking. The gods had truly blessed her, with nights like these.