The Call of Chaos

Tzeentch sat upon his throne within his massive labyrinth. Time and space swirled around in a seemingly chaotic fashion all about him; only he could see the patterns within it. He had chosen to take the form of a massive Lord of Change. He stretched his wings let out an ear rendering screech from his malformed beak. The screech twisted the ebb and flow of the chaos energy around him, and thousands of horrors began twisting and screeching to mimic their master.

Tzeentch fell out of his throne as the phone nearby began to ring. The horrors around him began screeching louder than before trying to mimic him as children do their elders.

"Shut the hell up you little bastards!" raged Tzeentch as he approached the phone. He picked it up with his right, twisted claw. "Tzeentch Residence, who may I ask is calling."

An effeminate voice answered his inquiry. "Tzeentch, wuuuuuuz uuuuuuuuup!"

"Why are you calling my Slaanesh…?" Tzeentch groaned in an annoyed voice.

'What, a girl can't call her brother? And don't use that "do you have any idea what time it is" excuse you pulled on me the last time I called either! We live in a dimension where time is pretty much immaterial.' Said Slaanesh with mock anger.

Tzeentch let out a long drawn out sigh. "Well pardon me for being busy. You aren't a girl by the way… we have no idea why you think you are."

"Clearly someone forgot that the Prince of Excess comes in both genders… and everything betwe-"

"Okay," Tzeentch yelled out, "I don't want to hear any of that stuff! By the warp… and we say Nurgle is fucked up."

"Speaking of Nurgle I got him on the other line… let me set up a three way." Slaanesh said, laughing at his… or rather her own sick joke.

Tzeentch heard an irritating beeping noise, and then a wet, phlegm laden voice. "Hello…? Slaanesh…?"

"Nurgle, Tzeentch is on the line now too, I set up a three way call."

"Oh… Hello Tzeentch… How are you…?"

"Im fine… I was working on something before Slaanesh called me. So seriously why are you two bothering me?"

"We got bored Tzeentch. Not everything is some big conspiracy, even if you like to make things into that. This whole Great Game crap is getting old. Do you have any idea how annoying it is having a billion trillion daemonettes coming to you every day crying that some of Khorne's daemons beat them up? Although I always make them feel better." Slaanesh laughed playfully, the thoughts this provoked made Tzeentch wish it were possible for him to unhear things.

"Speaking… of Khorne…" Nurgle began in his wheezy, plague blessed voice, "where is… he… anyway…?"

"For Warp's sake Nurgle use your inhaler! The last thing I want to hear is to hear someone breathing like a stalker into my phone."

"You mean like I did?" Slaanesh asked Tzeentch.

"That was you…?"

"Who else would it be?"

Tzeentch and Slaanesh heard a sort of heavy inhale coming from Nurgle. "Ah… that's better." Nurgle's breathing became slightly less sporadic, becoming what was normal to him. "Anyway Khorne's been kind of quiet lately, totally unlike him. I wonder what he's up to."

"Probably planning some big attack on either my or Tzeentch's territories… he's a big dick face." Slaanesh shrugged.

"Says the man…woman… who has dick faced daemons…" Tzeentch said.

Slaanesh gave his perky response, "I can make anything look good."

"I hate you both so much…" Tzeentch groaned.

Nurgle bellowed out what he thought was insightfulness. "That's kind of the point behind the great game now isn't it…"

Tzeentch felt a hot, dry, and irritating energy fill the air. "Hmm…"

A loud beeping sound was heard on the line to which Tzeentch responded by pressing several buttons. A deep, violent voice was heard almost immediately. "What conspiracy is this? The three of you idiots think you can talk about me behind my back?"

"Okay… Khorne, how exactly did you know we were talking about you when you have no psykers?"

"Speak the name of war and he shall always know. Plus… Karanak told me you guys were talking about me…"

"Ya that's what I thought…" Slaanesh giggled.

"Now whats going on?" Khorne howled.

"I don't know Khorne, Slaanesh called me then he put Nurgle on the line with me."

"You three should be more focused on the wars going on! I hear Abaddon is planning a 14th Black Crusade!"

"Are we really going to pin our hopes on the mortal realm on that guy again? I just mean… he's epic fail sauce." Slaanesh said.

"For once I agree with the sexually confused one…"

"There were plenty of bodies rendered the last crusade… flesh decayed. Typhus spread my plagues for me, it wasn't all bad." Nurgle said with unusual happiness.

"Yes well Ahriman totally fucked up again, so I didn't get anything the last time. It was like Seytan or whatever his name pooping in your stocking on Christmas…" Tzeentch said in a depressed manner.

"How is that anything like what you just said?" A confused Khorne asked.

"I don't know, I was disappointed, just work with me. Warp…"

"Well I just like it when blood is spilt so I say let Commander Incompetent lead his little crusade."

"We should send a Primarch!" Nurgle said with enthusiasm. His brothers all gagged slightly as they heard some of his pustules burst in response to his improving mood.

"Those guys are worthless now…" said Slaanesh.

"All they do is sit on their asses on their little "home" worlds. Magnus hasn't even left his tower for a millennium, that's just a waste of power. Don't know why I made him into a Daemon prince in the first place." Agreed Tzeentch.

Khorne snorted in pride. "Well at least my boy Angron actually did something. He reaped a great slaughter on Armageddon, even if he got his ass kicked by those bastard knights."

"Have any of you ever stopped to wonder why all our mortal commanders are either lazy, retarded, or incompetence personified?" Nurgle asked.

"It's something I think about ever moment of existence Nurgle…" Tzeentch said.

As Tzeentch said that he turned to see a slight disturbance in the flow of space and time. It was a faint thing, something only Tzeentch in his scrutiny could see. "I'm… gunna have to call you guys back."

"Erm… don't hang u-" was the last thing Tzeentch heard as he slammed the phone against the receiver. He walked over to the disturbance to inspect it. Time and space continued to flow fluidly in all directions around his private chamber, he saw as multiple rivers flowed into this one point. Whatever happens at this point would influence the entire mortal world. Tzeentch chuckled as he began to plot what manner of intervention he should provide to ensure things would end favorably for him. Abaddon's next crusade would have to wait, or… Tzeentch began to think; maybe it could be used to manipulate this point. Tzeentch's chuckle turned to a twisted cackle as the pieces began to fit together inside his unknowable mind. Unintentionally his cackle caused the unnumbered horrors to shift and twist in form, they released sharp cries in a language never meant to be heard by man.

Tzeentch put his claws to what currently served as his ears, his booming voice audible even above the sirens of pain. "By the… Shut the fuck up!"