In the grim darkness of the Warhammer 40k universe, power struggles and betrayals are commonplace, even among the ranks of the most potent psykers. However, even among their ranks, disloyalty festers.
In the ever-shifting labyrinth of the Warp, where time and reality bent to the whims of its denizens, ten immortal psykers had claimed dominion. They were powerful beyond measure, their mastery of the Warp's chaotic energies unparalleled. For a few short years, they reigned supreme, their fortress a beacon of dread power, imposing order upon the tumultuous currents of the Warp.
The immortals—Frank, Lilly, Alex, Sarah, Mark, Emily, Jason, Lisa, Tom, and Sophie—had forged an alliance based on mutual respect and the shared goal of consolidating their power before returning to the material verse. Under their rule, lesser psykers, rouge space marines and Warp-spawned entities served them, bolstered by fear and the promise of power and protection. Yet, as the years passed, ambition and jealousy began to brew among their subordinates.
Among these subordinates were ambitious psykers like Niko, Selene, Vortigern, and several others, who grew restless under the yoke of the immortals. They whispered in the shadows, conspiring to overthrow their masters and seize control of the Warp for themselves. They believed that their combined might could match, even surpass, that of their immortal overlords know throughout the warp as the Endless.
The day of rebellion came swiftly. The traitors, armed with forbidden knowledge acquired by their lifetime of serial raiding and fueled by their burning ambition, launched their assault. The battle that ensued was a cataclysm of psychic warfare. The very fabric of the Warp twisted and screamed as energies of unimaginable potency clashed.
The immortals, however, were far from unprepared. Their gifts from the god of all reality also came with the impossible boon of quick mastery of all phenomena to help them in their new reality. But this was yet to be known by the Endless…
With the experience and boundless potential of the Emdless the tide of battle swiftly turned to their favor. Bolts of pure Warp energy, tendrils of darkness, and storms of chaotic fire obliterated the ranks of the rebellious psykers. The traitors' combined might crumbled before the raw, unbridled power of the immortals.
In the aftermath, the defeated traitors were dragged before the ten psykers, their bodies broken and their spirits crushed. The grand hall of the Pyrophoros, a place of twisted grandeur and pulsating Warp energy, became the stage for their judgment.
"You dare to challenge us," Franks voice boomed, his eyes glowing with arcane fury. "You sought to usurp the power that you cannot even comprehend."
"We showed you mercy by allowing you to serve us," Lilly added, her tone icy and disdainful. "Now, you will learn of the Endless furry."
The immortals, in a rare display of their sorcery, began to weave a spell of unparalleled cruelty. Drawing upon their infinite life force, they chanted in an ancient, forbidden language come to them by the whispers on the warp itself, their voices merging into a singular, terrible note that reverberated through the Warp.
The traitors, bound in chains of psychic energy, writhed in fear as they felt the spell take hold. Their screams echoed through the grand hall as their bodies were lifted into the air, suspended by unseen forces. The spell tore at their very essence, binding their life forces to an eternal cycle of torment.
The sensation of burning alive engulfed them, a searing agony that permeated every fiber of their being. Flesh blistered and charred, nerves flared with unending pain, and minds were assaulted by waves of psychic fire. The traitors were trapped in a perpetual state of torment, their existence reduced to an eternity of excruciating suffering.
The immortals watched, their expressions cold and impassive. They took no pleasure in the punishment, but neither did they show any remorse. This was their decree, a brutal reminder of the consequences of treachery.
"Let this be a lesson to all who serve us," Mark declared, his voice cutting through the screams. "Our power is absolute, within our domain and our wrath knows no bounds."
The spell, now a permanent fixture of the Warp, drew its energy from the immortals' boundless life force, ensuring that the traitors would never know the release of death. Their suffering became a constant background noise, a grim symphony that resonated through the fortress.
As the weeks passed, the traitors' torment became an integral part of the fortress. The grand hall, once a place of dark majesty, now echoed with the eternal screams of those who had dared to challenge the immortals. Their agony served as a stark warning to any who might contemplate rebellion.
Yet, in the depths of their unending torment, the traitors' spirits did not break completely. Their hatred for the immortals burned brighter than the flames that consumed them. Though their bodies and minds were bound by the spell, their souls clung to a desperate hope for vengeance. For even the Endless underestimated their life force essence gifted to them by a good of all reality.
In the labyrinthine corridors of the Warp, where time and reality held little meaning, even the impossible could become possible. The traitors, their will forged in the fires of their suffering, began to reach out with their minds, seeking a way to break free from their eternal torment.
They whispered to the dark entities that lurked in the shadows of the Warp, the nameless horrors and ancient beings that thrived on chaos and suffering. They offered their unyielding hatred and their very souls in exchange for the power to strike back at their tormentors.
In the ever-watchful eyes of the immortals, there was no sign of the traitors' secret machinations. Secure in their power and confident in their control, they did not notice the subtle changes at first. The whispers of the traitors grew stronger, resonating with the chaotic energies of the Warp. The spell that bound them began to fray at the edges, tiny cracks appearing in its psychic fabric.
The traitors felt the change, a flicker of hope amidst their torment. They redoubled their efforts, pouring their remaining strength into their pleas and curses. The dark entities of the Warp responded, drawn to the promise of such potent hatred and suffering.
The immortals finally sensed the disturbance. They felt the growing turbulence around the traitors, the subtle shifts in the Warp. Gathering in their grand hall, their expressions were wary and concerned. The spell they had crafted with such care and power was unraveling, and the consequences could be dire.
"We must act swiftly," Tom intoned, his voice grim. "The forces at play here are beyond even our understanding."
"We cannot allow the traitors to escape," Tom declared, his eyes narrowing. "Their hatred could become a weapon against us."
Once more, the immortals channeled their boundless life force, seeking to reinforce the spell and contain the growing threat. But the entities of the Warp, drawn to the traitors' suffering and hatred, were no longer passive observers. They had begun to weave their own influence into the fabric of the spell, corrupting and distorting it to their own ends.
The Endless have unlimited potential, but potential is just that potential experience will always outdo potential. Especially in warp sorcery.
The grand hall shook with the force of the psychic battle that ensued. The immortals poured their life force into the spell, trying to seal the cracks and banish the dark entities that had intruded. But the traitors, fueled by their unending agony and burning desire for revenge, fought back with a ferocity born of desperation.
In the midst of the chaos, a figure emerged from the shadows—a being of immense power, shrouded in darkness and exuding an aura of pure malevolence. The immortals sighed at the sight, recognizing the presence of a particular daemon prince that was banished by them what seemed like a lifetime ago, it was the daemon prince at Arcadia Prime a lord of the Warp who had answered the traitors' call.
"Fools," the daemon prince intoned, its voice a deep and resonant echo. "You thought you could banish the great Khor'Vath the daemon prince with your pitiful sorcery. You thought you could contain the hatred and suffering you have sown. But you have only made us stronger."
With a wave of its hand, Khor'Vath shattered the remnants of the spell, freeing the traitors from their bonds. Their bodies, still wracked with the sensation of burning, fell to the ground, but their spirits were lifted by a newfound power. The dark entities of the Warp had granted them a terrible gift—the ability to channel their suffering into destructive force.
The traitors rose, their eyes burning with remnants of the Endless white electric fire. They turned to face their former masters, their hatred and pain transformed into a weapon of unimaginable potency. The grand hall erupted into a maelstrom of psychic energy as the traitors unleashed their fury upon the immortals.
The battle was fierce but not unmanageable. The immortals, immensely powerful, found themselves hard-pressed not to completely obliterate their former subordinates before punishing them. The traitors fought with a relentless intensity, their pain and suffering driving them to new heights of power. Khor'Vath watched with a twisted smile, reveling in the chaos it had unleashed.
In the end, Sophie imposed her will onto with her cursed speech, Sophies power to command and control anyone with just her words imbued with her psyker energy shattered the scene of rebellion turning it into a commotionless picture of all the endless subjects kneeling. The traitors, now transformed into avatars of vengeance and destruction, claimed their own spot on grand hall in horror.
Khor'Vath, satisfied with events up to now was thrown off by the sudden change of events, to cowardly to face the consequences of his actions the daemon prince began weaving a spell to vanish back into the depths of the Warp, however the Endless was not about to let the the daemon prince go.
Tom recently foreseeing Khor'Vath retreating he unleashed the spell he and the other Endless had been preparing since the founding of Pyrophoros, and the spell being severing and isolating of the Endless's domain from the warp. Meaning none could enter or escape without one of the endless direct permission.
In the end the Daemon prince had just fast forwarded the endless plans of the severing the domain. Separating the domain of the endless effectively made the Endless owners of their very own dimension. Not knowing what to do the Daemon Prince directly decided that eternal servitude was a better fate then whatever the Endless could think of.
The daemon prince not willing to wait any longer directly attached all the essence of his daemon core to the nearest endless.
The immortals, though victorious, were unprepared for what came next.
Khor'Vath, unwilling to accept defeat, unleashed his final gambit. With the last vestiges of his strength, he directed all the essence of his daemon core towards the nearest of the Endless. That Endless was Emily, known for her unparalleled control over psychic energies. Khor'Vath not knowing he had made the worst chitin his existence continued head strong.
The daemon core's essence surged into Emily , engulfing her in a maelstrom of dark power. The other Endless only watched in curiosity, not even slightly concerned as events took place. Emily's form glowed with an unholy light, her body twitching as the daemon essence fused with her own.
For a moment, it seemed as though Emily would be consumed by the daemon's essence, her form writhing. But then, with a scream of defiance, she seized control of the chaotic energies, forcing her form to revert back to normal then started bending them to her will. The daemon core's power became hers, amplifying her already immense psychic abilities.
Emily's eyes blazed with a new intensity as she rose, her presence now radiating a familiar power. The other Endless felt the shift in the Emily, the surge of energy that now emanated from their beloved friend.
"What has happened?" Lillly asked, her voice tinged with awe and concern.
"The daemon prince," Valeria replied, her voice echoing with an otherworldly resonance. "He has bound his essence to me. His power is now mine to command."
The immortals gathered around Valeria, their expressions a mixture of wariness and fascination. They could sense the change in her, the immense power that now flowed through her veins.
Emily now has the ability to channel suffering into destructive force.
With a bone chilling smile the endless realize that if they forced demons, they subjugate to surrender their demon core. They could gather the unique abilities of other demons, just as Emily has done.
As for the consequences of severing a fragment of the war for themselves. They couldn't care less.
At the end of the day they were the ten immortal psykers, unbounded by fate with the power to change their fate to whatever they wish, they are rulers of a realm where their words shaped the reality around them the only law is that there are no laws. And they would reign supreme, their legacy etched into the very fabric of the fragmented Warp, for all eternity.