"A pointless trick…"
Orsaga cast a glance at the freshly slain Aeldari god, then turned his eyes away. He ignored the horrified deities around him, fixing his gaze instead upon a deeper fold of the warp.
By instinct alone, he sensed it—the half-awakened Slaanesh was watching him from that place, amusement curling around her presence.
It was her subtle influence that had driven the Aeldari gods into their self-destructive impulses.
Not that it mattered. Orsaga would have killed them anyway.
He slaughtered strangers without reason; fools seeking death needed even less excuse.
A cold chuckle escaped him.
"Heheheh~"
As if in response, a sultry laugh echoed from that hidden space. Slaanesh's voice, honeyed and coy, drifted outward:
"Don't be angry, darling~ I was simply curious about you… a stranger from beyond."
Her tone carried the weight of her domains—love and indulgence. To mortals, even hearing her words would feel like falling helplessly in love, their will shackled in devotion.
But to Orsaga, a fellow Chaos God, it was nothing. If anything, it irritated him.
Slaanesh was unlike the others. Her form was fluid—male, female, or something in between. Her aesthetic bent toward the strange and grotesque, qualities Orsaga personally found distasteful.
He leaned back into a chair, expression unchanging.
"If you have something to say, say it."
After a brief silence, Slaanesh spoke again, still with that playful tone:
"I want knowledge of other worlds."
Orsaga immediately knew she was lying—partially. She wanted that knowledge, yes, but it wasn't the true reason she'd sought him out. Still, he didn't care to expose her.
"Fine. But what's the price?"
A demon of the Abyss never shied from business.
For once, Slaanesh faltered. What could she offer a fellow Chaos God?
After some hesitation, she ventured:
"Your station among the Aeldari ties you to Art. I hold dominion over that concept in this realm. I can grant you a portion of that godly authority. Will that suffice?"
It wasn't everything—she would retain control. But it would let Orsaga insert himself into the workings of art within this world, effectively becoming a shareholder.
For the first time, Orsaga's eyes lit with genuine interest.
After long discussion, they struck a deal. A contract of the Abyss was forged: Orsaga provided fragments of multiversal knowledge, and in return, he received a measure of dominion over Art.
---
Not long after, as Orsaga departed, a strange blue, three-legged raven fluttered into the desecrated Pantheon. Its crystalline eyes fixed intently upon the glowing orb in Slaanesh's hand—an orb brimming with the knowledge Orsaga had just sold.
Slaanesh was unsurprised. Absorbing the knowledge swiftly, she answered the raven's unspoken question:
"That one has no emotional weaknesses. At least, none I can sense."
This, in truth, had been the purpose of her probing.
At Tzeentch's urging, she had attempted to use her dominion over love and desire to test Orsaga's heart for flaws. For among the Chaos Gods, Orsaga stood unique—his dominions made him arguably the strongest of them all.
Direct methods had failed. So Tzeentch, master of schemes, had sought a subtler path.
But Slaanesh's efforts had yielded nothing.
The raven, Tzeentch's avatar, did not appear troubled. His crystalline gaze never left the orb.
"Irrelevant. For now, share your harvest with me—we are partners, are we not?"
It was blatant opportunism.
As the God of Knowledge, Tzeentch could not resist the lure of such information.
Slaanesh rolled her eyes but did not refuse.
"Fine. But it'll cost you."
She demanded half of what she herself had paid Orsaga—a fair split.
Tzeentch almost scoffed aloud. Him, the Lord of Schemes, paying full price? His creed was something for nothing. To pay was beneath him.
Yet after a moment's thought, he handed over the cost. He took the orb and vanished without another word.
Only much later, when Slaanesh attempted to use the same information to bargain with Khorne, did she realize the trick.
Khorne's glare had been scornful, his silence damning.
Tzeentch, the sly raven, had beaten her to it—reselling the knowledge to Khorne and Nurgle both.
One piece of intelligence, sold twice over.
Thus the middleman not only recovered his own expense, but profited besides.
...
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