Content Warning: Sexual violence
"It would be best if you arose, my Lady. We have a long journey ahead of us, and the Realm of Chaos is no place for dallying," a new voice spoke from behind Taylor as she writhed helplessly on the ground.
Unlike the voices of the Chaos Gods, this voice was distinctly that of an old, male human. Groaning, Taylor pushed herself up and turned around and saw just that. A balding old man with a scraggly white beard, an ugly face decorated by multiple scars, and two milky-white eyes blinded by cataracts. He was dressed in a plain black robe, adorned with a few charms and golden medallions, and a thick cloak over his shoulder. In his hands was a gnarled walking stick, and on his left shoulder was a single, white raven that looked at Taylor with unnatural intelligence.
Taylor pushed herself off the ground, the pain fading. When she did, she realized how much she had changed. Taylor was always insecure about her height, standing at a solid 5' 8", tall for a young teenage girl. And her stick thin body and gawky figure didn't help her confidence in her appearance either, causing her to often wear baggy clothes to hide herself. But now, Taylor looked down and saw all her clothes were sizes too small, wrapped tightly around her body.
She was definitely taller now, guesstimating she now stood a little above 6' tall. But more interestingly, Taylor was now ripped. Her muscles bulged to proportions she'd only seen in professional female bodybuilders or wrestlers. Gone was her developing potbelly and awkward, lanky limbs. In its place was a body that she could only describe as Amazonian.
"What happened to me?" Taylor breathlessly asked.
"Did you not listen to Lord Tzeentch when he spoke?" The old man cocked his head. "You have been blessed by the Chaos Gods. Your body is now that of a true Chaos Warrior. You now possess an infernal strength and a body as tough as stone. You are no longer a mere human, but instead a living weapon for the Gods."
Raising an eyebrow at the old man's words, Taylor immediately began scanning her environment for something to test her new powers on. She found the perfect subject in a boulder the size of her torso. Lacking any type of measuring device, she could only guess that the stone weighed several hundred pounds. Bending down, Taylor wrapped her arms around the boulder and stood, ripping it off the ground with contemptuous ease.
Letting the rock drop to the ground, Taylor looked down and decided on one more test. Rearing her arm back, she brought her fist down on the boulder, the impact cracking the surface of the stone, breaking a small chunk of it off. Taylor stumbled backwards more out of surprise and shock of her own ability than due to any outside force.
Taylor looked at her fist, it looked unscathed by the punch that would have broken only her own bones back when she was alive. While Taylor was never the biggest Cape geek, she knew she had to be some kind of low or mid level Brute.
"Amazing." Taylor breathed out as she stared and her fist, repeatedly clenching and unclenching it. After a few seconds of observation, she realized that the old man was still staring at her, waiting for her to finish. "Sorry about that. Are you the guide that I asked for?"
The old man nodded his head. "Indeed I am. I am to be your humble servant and guide during your journey. You may call me the Advisor."
"The Advisor?" Taylor parroted. "You don't have a real name?"
"Perhaps I did once." the Advisor shrugged. "But such things are lost to me now. Now, I am my role, and my role is me. I am nothing more, and nothing less."
"Ohh." Taylor stood awkwardly, not sure what to say. "I'm sorry?"
"Dispense with the pity my Lady, it will serve you no purpose here." the Advisor admonished as he began moving past Taylor. "Now come, we have much to do if you are to take the throne of the Everchosen."
Taylor perked up at his words. "Are you going to take me to the Crown of Domination?"
The Advisor made an audible snort at her question. "My Lady, though you may now be beyond a normal human, you are far from ready to survive the trials required to take the Crown of Domination." The old man then stopped and looked Taylor directly in the eyes despite being blind. "Your newfound strength is barely noteworthy to the many denizens of the Warp, nor will your new magic powers be able to protect you forever. You will need arms, armor, and allies if you are to survive the journey to the Crown."
"Makes sense," Taylor said, nodding her head. "What about food and water? I doubt there's going to be any running streams nearby."
"Your body no longer requires such base, mortal needs." The Advisor waved off her concerns. "As a Warrior of Chaos, the magic of Chaos supports your form. No more will you hunger, thirst, or grow tired. Combat itself shall sustain you."
"Oh." Taylor mumbled out, surprised. "That's… convenient."
"Indeed." the Advisor flatly responded as he turned away and began walking. "Now let us be off. I know of the location of one such artefact which shall be of use to you. A suit of armor suitable for the station you are trying to achieve. The Armour of Morkar."
"The Armour of Morkar?"
"Indeed. Tis the plate worn by the first Everchosen of Chaos, Morkar the Uniter. This set of resilient black iron shall make you nigh invulnerable in combat." the Advisor proclaimed. "It is currently kept in one of Nurgle's pestilent forests nearby, worshipped as a totem by the Beastmen who inhabit that area."
"Beastmen?" Taylor asked, causing the Advisor to look at her with annoyance.
"Your ability to repeat everything I say as a question is quite an astounding skill, my Lady." The old man flatly drawled out.
Taylor flinched at his words. While the Advisor probably hadn't meant for his words to be cruel, it was exceedingly difficult for Taylor to take in any kind of negative dialogue towards her without equating it to the bullying of Trio. Looking down, Taylor saw that her fists were clenched tight, an instinctive reaction she had whenever she was harassed.
Sighing, Taylor forced her hands open and said, "Look, I'm sorry that I'm ignorant of what's happening in this world, but this is all very new to me. Before I literally died five minutes ago, the most I had to worry about were some bullies, the local gangs, and maybe a stray Cape fight. I didn't exactly volunteer to be thrown into this crazy plot of Gods, magic, and Beastmen." Taylor then met the Advisor's eyes as she felt her resolve strengthen. "But if I'm going to do this, I need to learn. That's why I had Tzeentch assign you to me. To guide and advise me. So… advise me. What are Beastmen?" Taylor commanded, doing her best to appear brave and demanding.
The Advisor turned to looking at Taylor for several long seconds, his face unreadable for the teen. Then Taylor saw the briefest of smiles appear on the Advisor's face, as if Taylor had just passed some unknown test he had for her.
"If that is your will." The Advisor said with a slight bow as he turned and began walking, Taylor following his footsteps. "The Beastmen are a savage, mutated race of half-men, half-animals who seek out death and destruction in order to please the Gods. Unfortunately for them, the Gods care little for their braying."
"Where do they come from?" Taylor asked as they continued on forward.
"The Beastmen, like many inhabitants of this specific plane of Chaos, are remnants of an Old World, consumed by Chaos during its own End Times millenia ago. Many vestiges of that world are now scattered across the various realms, much of which has been consumed and thrown into the Warp itself." The Advisor expounded. "This area specifically, was once known as the Chaos Wastes, located by the North Pole of this Old World."
Taylor pursed her lips. As if the physical appearance of those so-called Gods and of the landscape around her weren't enough evidence, the Advisor's words pretty much confirmed she was currently in the deepest pit of Hell right stuck with a bunch of apocalypse heralding monsters.
"Great, and I just made a deal with a bunch of evil gods that destroyed a planet." Taylor muttered under her breath as she let out a mirthless laugh.
"Evil?" The Advisor incredulously asked while shaking his head. "While the zealots of the Sigmarite temples would say so, Chaos in and of itself is not evil. Chaos merely provides something which is often far too lacking in all of the worlds, freedom."
Taylor raised an eyebrow. "How does all of this…" Taylor gestured to the wasteland around them, "Mean freedom?"
"Chaos, at its purest, represents change and evolution. Without it, all worlds would be consumed by stagnation, developing into nothing. Chaos destroyed the Old World, but in its place, allowed new Mortal Realms to flourish in its place. Chaos pushes its followers to fight against the status quo, to rise up against societies and people who oppress and imprison them and create something new in its place." The Advisor explained as he glanced at Taylor. "Tell me, have you ever felt trapped in your world? Suffering underneath the abhorrent rules, laws, and societal norms that cause more misery than happiness?"
Taylor felt her mouth shut, her lips pursing tightly. She knew the feeling of being trapped in a world that doesn't care about her. A world that ignored her suffering because her torturers were more popular, more connected, and more dishonest than she was. Taylor didn't respond, but her silence was all the answer the Advisor needed.
"Chaos would grant you the power to break the chains placed around you. To give you the freedom and strength to change your circumstances for the better. And the more you prove your devotion, the more power the Chaos Gods would grant you."
"For the cost of my soul?"
"Your soul is theirs already, my Lady." The Advisor chuckled. "Best you take advantage of the situation you find yourself in and curry as much favor as you can, lest you find yourself forever imprisoned in this Hellscape."
"Right." Taylor sighed. "So how far is this forest of Nurgle's?"
"The forest is quite the distance by foot, and it will take much time to reach it. But do not worry, your body no longer requires food, and time is the first universal constant to be disposed of in the immaterial world."
Taylor's head snapped to the old man. "And what the Hell does that mean?"
"Exactly what I just said. Time is variable in this realm. It passes at a different rate than it does in your world, and the rate at which time passes here changes at the whims of Chaos. Years may pass in this realm while only days pass in your world, and vice versa."
"Wait, so you're saying that every minute I spend here could mean days pass in my world!?" Taylor screamed.
"Or that days passing in the Chaos Realm are only minutes in your world. Or perhaps that every minute spent here is a minute going backwards in your world." The Old Man chuckled softly again as she smiled at Taylor's ignorance. "My Lady, attempting to place any type of logic or reasoning to Chaos itself is the height of folly. It is best you merely embrace the madness, and complete your task as quickly as you can."
Taylor let the Advisor's words digest, for a bit longer, before striding forward with purpose. "We should hurry up then."
"I am glad you are heeding my words." The Advisor smiled as his fragile form somehow kept pace with the Chaos infused teen.
"So this Reichland, it's like an alternate history version of Germany?" Taylor asked as she and the Advisor continued their trek through the Chaos Wastes.
Currently the duo traveled through a small valley roughly 20 feet wide, made of clay-red stone. To their flanks were relatively steep slopes that went up about 30 feet above them on both sides. The Path they followed twisted and bent like the banks of a river, giving Taylor the impression that this area was once in fact, a river that eventually carved out the small canyon they were in now before it turned into the current desolate hellscape.
The old man beside her smirked. "That is 'Reikland' with a 'k,' my Lady."
Taylor raised a brow. "How did you know how I was spelling it?"
Shaking his head, the Advisor said, "Irrelevant. And to your question, I suppose you could see it that way, but it would be inaccurate. The closer analogy to your world would be the Rhinelands in location, but perhaps Prussia or Austria in terms of influence. Remember, the Empire of Man was not a single united kingdom, but an alliance of smaller principalities, much like the Holy Roman Empire of your world."
"But they speak German?"
"Riekspiel, which yes is essentially bastardized German." The Advisor shrugged. "Mirror worlds are often strange like that."
Taylor nodded her head, humming in response. Taylor didn't know how long they had been walking, but she surmised that they had been traveling for at least a few days. With no discernable day-night cycle here, combined with the fact she no longer needed to eat or sleep, she had lost all ability to track time naturally.
Because of this, Taylor opted to learn more about this Old World that the Advisor had spoken about. Talyor had known about the existence of other worlds, what with the discovery of Earth-Aelph. And this Old World was sounding more and more like a medieval parallel Earth but with a Fantasy twist. The Empire was easy to equate with Germany and the Holy Roman Empire, Bretonnia with France, Norsca with Scandinavia, and Kislev with Poland or Russia.
"What about the Elves? What were they like? I remember you said there were multiple kinds of them."
"Indeed I did. There are the High, Dark, and Wood Elves. And the best way to describe them would be pompous, arrogant nobles, cruel and sadistic slavers, and isolationist tree dwellers respectively." The Advisor replied.
"And what nation equivalents did they live in? Italy?" Taylor was half joking and half serious with her question.
"No, that would be Tilea. And we can get more into your lessons later, as I fear we shall be having company very soon." The Advisor grimly spoke as he turned his head to a series of cliffs in front of them.
Taylor followed his gaze, and her eyes widened at what she saw. Standing atop a red-clay cliff several hundred feet in front of them was not just one, but a whole pack of Beastmen.
While Taylor was familiar with ancient mythological creatures such as satyrs and minotaurs, none of what she had read or what her imagination could conceive of had adequately prepared her for what she was actually seeing.
The Beastmen were beyond hideous, beyond disgusting. They were just… wrong. There was a general theme to them, a goat-like lower body, human upper body, and a malformed head that was an amalgamation of the two. Some looked to be goats, others were more bull-like, and others still looked more like deer or even horned horses. What they had in common were pairs of massive horns or antlers that jutted from the tops of their heads and maws of razor sharp fangs. Some were even an amalgamation of animals, containing random parts from different beasts with no discernable rhyme or reason for it. Recalling the Advisor's lessons, she identified these creatures as gors. Others still were smaller than their brethren, with more human-like heads with only small, stubby horns if any. Those were the ungors, the runts and lower caste of the Beastmen.
All of their bodies were covered with thick, matted hair that was encrusted with blood, dung, and other disgusting fluids. Flies, fleas, and ticks covered their bodies, but the monstrous creatures seemed to pay them no mind. Through the hair, Taylor could also see oozing, pustulant boils that these insects and their spawn seemed to feast upon.
Owing to the more human part of their origin, many of the Beastmen wielded primitive weapons, crude axes, wooden shields, a few spears here and there. One however, stood out amongst the crowd of Beastmen. Clad in rusted chain and plate armor, standing taller and broader than the rest of his clanmates, carrying a dangerous double headed axe. A bestigor, Taylor quickly identified, higher ranking Beastmen of great power allowing it to dominate its lesser kin.
The bestigor looked down on Taylor, its eyes wild and filled with a primal fury that Taylor had never seen before. Not even the most hardened gangers or most strung out junkies she'd seen through Brockton Bay could even come close to the level of desperate anger this creature emanated. The bestigor then roared, an ear piercing howl that shook Taylor to her bones. Then it charged, leaping down the cliffside from rock to rock, a shocking display of agility that Taylor was not prepared for.
As the band approached, Taylor turned to the Advisor and shouted, "What do we do!? How do we fight them!?"
"We?" the Advisor barked out a laugh. "My Lady, if you recall, my name is the Advisor, not the Guardian or the Fighter. And my particular advice in this situation is kill them by fist or by magic quickly, lest you be turned into a breeding sow for these beasts."
Taylor's face dropped at that, recalling the Advisor's lessons on what Beastmen did to human women they captured. As she gaped at her so-called Advisor, Taylor's mind froze as fear and terror set in. She didn't even notice as a gor, faster than his brethren, was already upon her as he tackled Taylor to the ground.
With a grunt of pain, Taylor fell to the ground as the goatman pinned her to the ground, its meaty arms holding down her shoulders. Out of sheer panic, Taylor swung at the gor, a fist that had no technique or training behind it, just sheer survival instinct. And to Taylor's surprise, her fist went through the gor's face, crushing its way past his brain, and out the back of the gor's head.
Taylor's arm made a sickening splooch as she withdrew it from the gor's head. It took a few moments for Taylor's mind to register what she had done, and to process how she had done that. Right, I'm a Brute now, she thought to herself as she shoved the Beastman's limp body off of her.
As Taylor pushed herself up, the other Beastmen began to form a loose circle around her. Feeling somewhat emboldened by the fact that she had literally put her first through the first gor's skull, Taylor put both her hands up in a poor imitation of a boxer's stance and shouted out, "Come on! Who wants it next!?"
Two ungors met her challenge as they charged right for her, wildly swinging their primitive spears. The first ungor moved too fast for the inexperienced Taylor to properly dodge, and thrust his spear into Taylor's stomach. The blade met Taylor's flesh, but to her shock only made a superficial cut as it was unable to properly make its way through the hardened muscles of Taylor's abs. Taylor felt like she was just punched in the stomach, but that was a far better alternative than actually getting impaled.
Both Taylor and the ungor looked down at the spear in disbelief. They then both looked up at one another, and Taylor grinned. Grabbing the shaft of the spear with her left hand, Taylor roared as she removed the spearhead from her stomach and yanked the polearm, pulling the ungor forward. As the Beastman was forced forward, Taylor threw a kick. Taylor knew she was no martial artist, and the attack looked more like an awkward soccer kick than anything. The ungor exploded from the power of the kick, ribs shattering and organs splattering out of the now open chest cavity.
Now dead, the ungor collapsed to the ground, releasing his grip on his spear that Taylor now wielded. The second ungor roared at the death of his comrade and charged, thrusting his spear forward while he held his rotted wooden shield close to his chest. This time however, Taylor was ready.
Stepping to the side, Taylor dodged the ungor's savage lunge and countered with a thrust from her own spear. Eyes widening, the Ungor raised its shield to protect from the blow, but it was ultimately a futile effort. Taylor's infernal strength was so beyond the Beastman's primitive arms that when Taylor's spear impacted the wooden shield, it burst straight through, piercing the shield like it was nothing more than paper. Taylor continued to push forward, driving her spear further through the shield and into ungor, impaling it.
Taylor grinned as the ungor flailed at the end of her spear before ultimately falling limp. She couldn't help it. After months of being beaten down and abused, of being ignored and hated, she finally had the power to fight back! To no longer be the weakling of a teen that hated who she saw in the mirror every morning. Adrenaline surged through her veins, providing her a high like she'd never experienced before. She could do this! She could win this fight and get back home!
Taylor's thoughts and jubilation were cut short as a veritable battering ram of fur and metal slammed into her, tackling her to the ground. Crashing to the ground, Taylor felt the air forced out of her lungs and her mind temporarily went blank. After a few seconds, Taylor let out a pained groan as she regained her bearings, eyes widening when she realized she couldn't move. Looking at her hands, she saw that her arms were pinned down by massive, furred claws covered by rusted armor. Looking up, she saw that the bestigor was atop her, eyes wild with fury and rage.
It took a second for Taylor to realize what happened. The bestitgor had tackled her while she was distracted, and now she was at its mercy. Even with her Chaos backed strength, Taylor couldn't move the massive creature off of her. The pungent stench of the bestigor almost caused Taylor to vomit then and there, but she grit her teeth and shoved the disgust down. As Taylor struggled under the bestigor's grip, the Beastman moved its snarling, drooling head closer to hers, looking her dead in the eyes. Taylor defiantly met its gaze, but saw something that froze her. Underneath the wild, bestial rage that bestigor's blazed with, Taylor saw lust.
… No. NO!
Taylor redoubled her efforts trying to force the bestigor off of her, writhing and kicking to no avail. Soon the bestigor was joined by several other gors who joined in on the dogpile. The sheer amount of animalistic musk and the foul odorous stench of their fur caused Taylor to gag and dry heave. As she did so, one gor moved and held down Taylor's hands, while another clumsily palmed her shirt, tearing it off with a single motion and exposing Taylor's chest to the whole world.
Taylor looked down at her exposed self in terror. She was helpless. Trapped. The bestigor, which still pinned her down, tore off its loin cloth. Taylor watched in horror as its beastly member grew erect, a massive, animalistic appendage that she didn't want anywhere near her.
"NOOOO! NOOO-RAAAAGH!" Taylor howled, no longer forming coherent words as she lost rational thought, panic and rage overtaking her.
It was a primal cry that rivaled any braying of the Beastmen. As she screamed, she felt a stabbing, burning pain on her forehead. One that immediately began bleeding and covering her eyes as the Eight-pointed star of Chaos cut itself into existence.
The bestigor hesitated at the appearance of the star, but it was too late. Before he or any of the other gors could move, Taylor exploded as a whirlwind of fire overtook her. The blazing inferno grew exponentially as Taylor roared, transforming into what could only be called a tornado of flames as the Beastmen surrounding Taylor were reduced to charred husks in seconds.
The Flame Storm Taylor summoned continued to burn for several seconds, piercing into the heavens and drawing both awe and fear from the Beastmen who were far enough away to not be incinerated. The pyromantic spell soon began to fade, shrinking as Taylor's howl died down. Eventually it sputtered out of existence, leaving only an exhausted, hyperventilating Taylor lying on the ground surrounded by ashen corpses.
Despite the apparent vulnerability of Taylor, the surviving gor and ungors did not immediately attack. Instead, they waited, cautiously watching to see if the human could still strike at them with the Gods' gifts. Taylor slowly stood, barely decent as all that remained of her tattered, burned clothing was barely half her jeans and the underwear beneath. But Taylor paid no mind to her immodesty as she took a deep breath in. When she exhaled, fire flared from her nostrils as she opened her eyes, irises scintillating with orange magic.
Before the Beastmen could make any move, Taylor then roared, her voice screeching through the air as she extended both of her hands and fired off a massive fireball that Lung would've been proud of right for a pair of gors. The goatmen dove out of the way, but when the fireball impacted the ground between them, it then exploded, the following detonation consuming and incinerating them. It was at that moment the rest of the Warherd decided to run. Taylor however, was not interested in letting them get away.
"BURN! BURN! ALL OF YOU FUCKING BURN!" Taylor howled as her hands moved back and forth, rapidly flinging smaller firebolts with the speed of a machine gun.
While Taylor was inaccurate with her spell, the sheer volume of fire she was putting out was enough to overwhelm the surviving Beastmen. Gors and ungors alike fell before her volley of flames, until all that surrounded Taylor were charred corpses and the smell of burnt hair and flesh.
When the last of the Beastmen was naught but ash, Taylor finally allowed herself to fall to her knees as her hands hit the ground. Taylor felt hot, burning with a fever that if she didn't get under control, she knew would consume her. The fire was too much. It was overpowering her, calling her to embrace it and burn away every rock and pebble around her. But she knew she couldn't. An instinctual part of her brain screamed danger at her if she allowed the flames to take control.
And so, Taylor forced herself to calm, recalling every trick she learned to control her emotions following the years of bullying she endured. Taking a deep breath, Taylor held it for 8 seconds, before slowly letting it out with a hiss. As she focused on her breathing rather than the raging inferno both in and around her, Taylor felt the heat slowly dissipate, the temperature gradually dropping until soon enough, the flames around her were out.
Her powers under control, Taylor was finally able to push herself back up, only to almost collapse as soon as she stood. Taylor was exhausted. Every muscle and bone ached in ways she never knew was possible. But she put the pain out of her mind, forcing it down as she focused on what was important. She survived. She killed all those fucking Beastmen and survived… unspoiled. Taylor shivered at the thought of the bestigor as she wrapped herself in a hug. She wanted to laugh in relief at escaping, cry from what she just had to endure, and scream in rage at the injustice of her situation. Most of all, she just wanted to go home.
Her mind was saved from further spiraling as she heard clapping behind her.
"Well done my Lady! Well done!" The Advisor heartily congratulated as he hobbled his way over to her.
Taylor's gaze snapped to the Advisor, blinking tears out of her eyes as anger overtook fear and panic. "You! What is wrong with you!?" Taylor shouted as she turned and marched right for the Advisor, fury at his apparent betrayal superseding any feelings of shame or embarrassment at her appearance.
The Advisor gave a wry smirk. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific than that my Lady, for there are many things 'wrong' with me."
Taylor's fist struck across the Advisor's jaw, sending the old man flying to the ground face first. It was a blow committed in rage, and it was only after that she realized what she had done. She, a definite Brute, just punched an old man across the jaw. Looking down, she saw that the Advisor's neck was twisted at a strange angle, and blood pooled beneath his face. Horror gripped Taylor as she had just killed the only person who could help her in this strange world.
"Quite the blow, my Lady." The Advisor's voice rang out, drawing Taylor out of the probable fourth panic attack she was having today. Taylor watched in equal parts horror and awe and the Advisor picked himself up off the ground, then used his own two hands to snap his broken neck back into position. The Advisor then stood straight back up, looking no worse for wear after being struck by a Brute. "While I understand your anger, there are some things you must learn and experience for yourself. Those Beastmen were just the first of the many trials you must endure should you wish to escape. If you could not handle them by yourself, then you might as well give up now and let the denizens of the Warp have their way with you."
The Advisor then hobbled closer to Taylor with an intensity she was not ready for, his blind eyes focused directly on her. "But you did survive. And you are stronger now because of it. You can now call upon the Gods' Gifts like they are your own, can you not?"
Taylor's look of fear and regret at attacking the Advisor shifted into a glare once more, but lacking the intensity it had before. Her gaze then moving downwards, Taylor realized she was still semi-nude, so she used her left arm to cover up her meager chest while she brought up her right, summoning a small flame in her palm like it was second nature. The allure of the fire was strong, calling her to burn more and more, but this time she was able to shove the feeling down. With a flick of her wrist, she snuffed the flame and looked back to the Advisor.
"And you think that justifies leaving me there? To be killed? To be…" Taylor couldn't find the words.
"To be raped." The Advisor finished for her, his voice devoid of any mercy or sympathy. "If you lost here, you would have been raped. Then they would have brought you back to their den where for the next months you would continue to be raped, brutalized, and forced to give birth to mutant spawn until they either grew bored of you or you took your own life. And that is not even the worst of fates which can befall you here should you fail, Taylor Hebert."
The Advisor took another step forward, causing Taylor to intrinsically take one back. "The only way for you to succeed is to become stronger. Harder. To become so brutal and unrelenting so that nothing can stand in the way of you and your ambition. And believe me when I say I have a vested interest in seeing you succeed. So I will do whatever I can to ensure you become the Everchosen, no matter how cruel, deceitful, or sadistic it may be."
Taylor grit her teeth. She hated the Advisor. Hated him for leaving her to fend for herself. But the cold, logical part of her brain could somehow see the reasoning behind his rationale. This wasn't Earth Bet. She didn't get the luxury of spending months preparing and training with her powers, or a team she could count on to help her. This was a cold and cruel land where a single mistake would lead to death or worse.
Taylor couldn't help but compare her feelings of the Advisor to those of the Trio. She hated the Trio for all their lies and tricks, the torture they inflicted all with the sole purpose making her life miserable. To fulfill whatever their sadistic desires were. She hated the Advisor too, as he was more than happy to let Taylor suffer, but at least he was honest in what he did. No thinly veiled lies or double-talk to teachers. He was going to make her suffer so she could be stronger. The fact that she even respected him a little for his honesty was a strange indicator for how fucked up her mind was right now.
"... Fuck," Taylor muttered out, as she turned around. "Let's just… Let's just go to the forest of Nurgle and get that armor."
"A fine decision, my Lady." The Advisor gave her a small smile as he bowed his head, following in her footsteps.
A/N, 05/31/22: Just a note, I do mess around a little bit with the backstory of Warhammer here for this fic. I always liked the idea that Chaos and the gods are the same between W40k and Warhammer Fantasy, and that the Realm of Chaos and the Warp are one and the same, so I play around with that idea in this fic. Other than that, I hope you all enjoyed this fic, and I'll see you in the next one!