When entering the Eye of Terror, Lorgar had already ordered his subordinates to prepare full defensive measures.
Even without firsthand experience, everyone knew this place's infamous reputation.
In the legends of countless species, this was the gathering place of Warp daemons—an endless nest of horrors.
But once inside, the first thing Lorgar sensed was that the structure of space itself had changed.
In the outside universe, reality and the Warp were cleanly separated by layered barriers.
Matter could not pass freely without special technology.
Here, however—
The separation felt as thin as two sheets of folded paper.
Lorgar had the instinctive impression that with only a small effort, he could step into the Warp directly, without any aid.
And the deeper they traveled into the Eye, the stronger that feeling became.
He even suspected that at the Eye's heart, the Warp and realspace might no longer be divided at all—
but perfectly overlaid, forming a single blended realm.
Under the crew's tense vigilance, time passed.
Staring at the vast, crimson stillness around them, Lorgar frowned and asked the pilot:
"Are we still near the outer regions of the Eye? Why haven't we seen a single daemon?"
"..."
The pilot—who had never been here before—had no idea how to answer.
Erebus, seeing his discomfort, spoke casually:
"Probably. The Eye of Terror is almost ten thousand light-years wide."
Lorgar nodded.
"That makes sense."
And he returned to brooding in silence.
---
Two Months Later
After a long and uneventful journey, they had neither encountered a daemon nor any living organism whatsoever.
Kor Phaeron had begun doubting reality itself.
Perhaps they had gone the wrong way, he thought—
perhaps this wasn't even the Eye of Terror, but some strange pocket void.
Lorgar, however, was thinking hard.
As a Primarch, his mind could withstand immense pressure.
Unless someone attacked him at his weakest point—as the Emperor had—his emotions rarely destabilized.
Ten days earlier, he had begun suspecting they were trapped in a spatial maze created by a Greater Daemon.
Such things were rare, but not impossible.
Some unfortunate souls even found themselves thrown back in time by Warp entities.
Yet after many tests, he had found nothing unusual.
It was as if this space simply was what it appeared to be.
Then his gaze fell upon a neatly stacked bundle of documents on the table.
A thought flashed through his mind.
He hurriedly opened one page—
the one describing a ritual said to draw the attention of the Blood King.
With uncertainty but growing resolve, Lorgar ordered the Word Bearers to prepare the required materials and space.
---
Thirty Minutes Later
Standing inside a specially inscribed formation, Lorgar completed a long and complex invocation.
The moment the final word left his lips—
He felt it.
A gaze.
An indescribable pressure, like something omnipotent was looking directly at him.
A chill swept through him.
It felt as if a single gesture from that unseen observer could erase him completely.
He had never experienced anything like it.
At the helm, the pilot watched in terror as the coordinates on the console spun wildly.
Space-time indexes fluctuated so violently that the vessel's systems could barely track them.
In less than a single second, their ship had traveled billions of light-years.
The entire Milky Way was only a little over a hundred thousand light-years wide…
And then—
A colossal mountain appeared on the viewing screens.
Even with scanners, they could not see its summit.
Nor could they determine the width of its base.
Had the ship not identified it as a geological structure, they would have mistaken it for a crimson wall stretching beyond infinity.
Then—a portal of shimmering light materialized beside Lorgar.
A calm voice echoed in his ear:
"Come."
A surge of emotion overwhelmed him.
That faint, overwhelming power…
even the Emperor had never made him feel this way.
'Is this… a true god?'
Heart trembling, Lorgar stepped into the portal.
His followers exchanged nervous glances, then followed him.
---
It was a hall vast enough to contain the entire Eurasian continent.
The floor was formed from gold, silver, bronze, black iron, and gemstones of countless colors—
all carved with runes, invocations, and prayers beyond measure.
Above them, a ceiling of endless starlight swirled with crimson mist.
Along the walls, streams of blood-like liquid flowed as though through colossal veins, converging at a central pool of bottomless red.
Hundreds of thousands of breathtaking attendants moved gracefully through the hall, carrying trays and artifacts.
They glanced briefly at the newcomers, then lost interest entirely.
Lorgar did not mind.
Because at that moment—
the focus of every consciousness in the hall was fixed on the figure seated upon the distant throne.
The instant Lorgar saw Him—
He understood.
That being was a god.
Undeniably.
Irrefutably.
One glimpse was enough to feel the truth—
the sheer, incomparable essence that no mortal or transhuman could possess.
If mortals were fleeting sparks,
then the being on the throne was the primordial light of creation itself.
The hall's grandeur, the attendants' beauty—none of it mattered.
For all who entered this place, the throne's occupant became the center of existence.
Lorgar dropped to his knees, trembling with emotion.
"Your Eminence!
Please—allow me, Lorgar Aurelian, to receive Your teaching!"
Behind him, the others fell to their knees in terror.
And thus they stood before the true god.
.....
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