Chapter 80
The Death Guard captain's blood pressure spiked.
"This… is not going to be easy."
Luckily for him, Godzilla wasn't interested in sinking their ship. Instead, he pushed off the bow, vaulted into the void, and drifted toward the Genesis.
'I'm back~~ Hey, that ship next to me looks familiar. Must be from dear old dad's side.'
Nurgle's plague-ships were different from Tyranid bio-vessels. These weren't grown from scratch—they were once Imperial warships, completely consumed by the Flesh-Virus. Metal and muscle had fused together, the hull sprouting tumors of steel and rotting meat.
Flies buzzed in endless swarms. Maggots writhed in every wound of the vessel. It was filth given form.
Yet, to those truly blessed by the Plague God, this corruption was a gift. To be immune to disease because you are the disease—that was Father Nurgle's love.
Artillery thundered back and forth as the Genesis and the Indomitable Will exchanged broadsides at close range. The Indomitable Will had originally held the advantage.
But when the Genesis opened fire, the Chaos vessel's flank batteries took heavy damage. Now, the firepower balance had shifted.
Inside the hangar, the retreating Death Guard finally noticed something else—something far worse.
"What… what the hell is THAT!?"
Their blood froze. Anyone would break down, seeing what they saw.
After clawing their way back from disaster, they found themselves blocked—by a Titan-sized monster.
Godzilla loomed above them. From his view, the bloated Chaos Marines looked like action figures no taller than ten centimeters. He bent down, plucked one up in his claw, and held him at eye level.
"Aaahhh!!!"
The Death Guard panicked, flailing, raising his bolter and firing at Godzilla's face.
The rounds barely scratched him. Annoying, like spitballs.
So Godzilla did something that made every Warhammer 40K fan choke in disbelief. He popped the Chaos Marine into his mouth.
[If you eat that thing, aren't you worried about diarrhea?]
'Haven't tried it before. Let's see how it tastes.'
Anything that went into Godzilla's jaws was doomed. Ghidorah had lost a head that way—what chance did a stinking Death Guard have?
'Hmm. Tastes… odd.'
[Odd? That thing's a walking septic tank!]
Normally, licking a Death Guard's mucus was a death sentence. Mutation, infection, plague. But Godzilla chewed casually, crunching ceramite armor and corrupted flesh like potato chips.
It just tasted bad.
'Ptooey.'
He spat the half-chewed corpse back onto the deck. The mash of bone, meat, and armor landed with a wet splat beside the other Chaos Marines. The look on their helmets—if eyes could show trauma, this was it.
'Let's find something tastier. Ah, this looks good.'
He reached down again, this time plucking up a Plaguebearer, one of Nurgle's basic daemons.
Rotting from head to toe, leaking pus, but at least it was pure flesh—no armor.
One bite. Green ichor sprayed from the corner of Godzilla's jaw.
'Mm. Much better. Juicy.'
If the Emperor Himself were watching, He might have given a thumbs-up.
Fortunately, the germs carried by low-tier Plaguebearers weren't dangerous enough to threaten Godzilla.
Many might assume Nurgle's plagues were "just viruses." Wrong. The Plague God's gifts were conceptual diseases—metal-eating plagues, reality-warping contagions, corruption beyond biology.
There are bacteria on Earth that thrive in nuclear radiation. Scale that up to the Warp, and you'll understand why Nurgle is arguably the most dangerous of the four Chaos Gods—at least for Godzilla.
But not today.
The Death Guard squad before him didn't even amount to a toothpick's worth of food.
And before they could regroup, Lizardmen and Space Wolves stormed in behind them. The rout was total.
"Damn it!!!"
The Death Guard captain smashed his fist against a bulkhead, venting green miasma from his respirator.
"We can't stay here! Prepare the ship for emergency Warp jump!"
Chaos captains didn't fear forced navigation—it was routine for them. The Indomitable Will's engines roared, ripping open a Warp rift ahead. If they could slip through, the Genesis wouldn't be able to follow.
The crew of the Genesis couldn't endure prolonged Warp exposure the way Chaos could. Within hours, mutation would set in.
But Isis had no intention of letting them escape.
"You dare offend my god, and think you can flee?"
She sneered, and sent a psychic pulse across the bond linking her to Planet Godzilla.
"Master Ke, wake up. Don't let that ship leave."
The signal travelled deep into the oldest temple on the planet. Not "old" as in ancient—old as in the oldest, older than any other structure, older than memory.
It had no guards. It didn't need any.
Within, an ancient Lizard Priest slumbered—an existence second only to Godzilla Himself.
At the heart of the temple lay a woman, wrapped entirely in bandages, reclining lazily on a stone throne. Despite her wrappings, her voluptuous figure drew the eye.
The temple was dark, but when the psychic call reached her, her eyes opened.
Light burst forth like a newborn sun. Shadows fled.
Her psychic aura didn't glow the usual blue, but a dim, burning crimson—like a sun of blood and fire.
BOOM.
The psychic shockwave rippled across Planet Godzilla and into the void, forming a blazing red lotus in the starfield. A miniature Eye of Terror.
The Warp channel opened by the Indomitable Will shuddered violently. One-third of the ship had already entered, but the rest trembled under the psychic storm.
This was no ordinary turbulence.
"My Father above!!!"
The Death Guard captain's composure broke. "What's happening to the Warp?!"
The Warp belonged to all the gods. It had never singled out one faction for punishment. Until now.
The Tribunal stared in disbelief as the ten-kilometer-long vessel snapped in half. One-third vanished into the Warp, while two-thirds were left stranded in realspace.
"Well done, Master Ke. You may go back to sleep."
The bandaged woman closed her eyes again, drifting back into slumber.
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