The funnny thing is that she seems to be okay with his whole 'no manifestations of neverborn' stance and probably either thinks it's an adorable quirk due to him liking the 'simple things' or she is really into delaying the pleasure towards a far greater end result.

Oh dear. "Gifts" from Chaos are usually earned through service, right?

So what happens when, after decades of providing (unwillingly) stellar service to his patrons, Cain finally gets into a situation where he's forced to ask for direct aid, and all that built-up interest comes due?

Small Omake: Paid with Interest

I honestly don't know how it came to this, but right now, I and my heretic followers are the only thing standing between the main Agri-Worlds of the local Imperial sector, and what I can only describe as Necron-infused Tyranids.

And if that doesn't just sum up how much the Emperor has (fairly understandably) had it out for me the past century or so, I don't know what does.

Still, I have one option: buy enough time to get my miserable hide into orbit, and then as far away as possible. The cost? I'll just need to damn my soul...

Well, probably too late for that anyways, all things considered. I've taken a small amount of pride in never actually condoning demon-summoning in any of my (unwilling) campaigns, but right now, I needed a disposable force of shock troops to hold the line as we evacuated.

Regretably, those USA berserkers would've probably expected me to join them in such a "glorious last stand". No, as much as I hated the risk, the Neverborn were my least-bad option.

I'd do my best to limit the damage of course, but this planet was already so thoroughly overrun that even the most optimistic (or more likely, incompetent) Administratum Clerk would've written it off anyways. If it was already worthless to the Imperium, then hopefully the Emperor couldn't be too upset at it's further desecration.

Still, I had placed harsh limits on the rituals, just to be sure. Considering my reputation, forbidding the use of human sacrifices was easy enough to insist on. Considering how prominently that sort of thing tended to feature in such blasphemies, removing it should help limit what damage my army of madmen could do.

(In the Warp)

The ritual itself was barely enough to grant even the most menial of demon's attention. Mere desperation-hope-despair. The request was fairly well-articulated, but had no real substance behind it.

Then, the call went out, ringing through the Sea of Souls: Cain. Cain, my beloved.

A millisecond-eternity-moment later, there was a mad dash for the breach. Some of the servants to the Unclean One tried to break through, desperate to hurt the Panacea-Bringer. Weakened and outnumbered, they were quickly cast aside by the greater horde.

And what a horde it was. The Prince of Pleasures, the Architect of Fate, and the Blood God had each laid claims on Cain by this point. He'd proven himself a fine servant-pawn-warrior, yet oddly enough, was surprisingly coy about actually accepting his due gifts-hooks-payment in return.

To entities constantly dealing with mortals begging for ever-greater favors, such an attitude was baffling, but not... unpleasant. There was something to be said for a worshipper who wasn't constantlly tryinging to carve off shards of their power for themselves.

Still, each of the three were also jockeying to claim this new Chapion for themselves, so finally getting an opportunity to express their personal bribe-appreciation-reward to him was not to be missed.

In their rush to finally pay back their faithful servant though, the tide of lesser demons they each sent to his aid quickly trampled whatever petty guidelines those mortals had put up around the ritual.

After which, the breach to Reality began to... crack.

(Excerpt from a report to Lord General [Redacted], courtesy of an unnamed Officio Assassinorum agent.)

As Ciaphas Cain watched dozens of systems be consumed by the fires of unreality, I truly wish that he had appeared happy.

The Warmaster should've been smirking over his intricate plot damning over a hundred planets. The False-Liberator should've been drooling at the sheer sensation of Reality itself crying out. He should've at least had a manic glint in his eyes, watching such wanton slaughter of his "worthy foes".

But he didn't, and that scares me more than anything.

No, as Cain watched from the bridge of his thrice-damned space hulk, he seemed downright frustrated.

In my current infiltration, I am merely a servant, fetching refreshments for his heretic administratum, so I only overheard bits and pieces. A few lines were clear though:

"What a waste", muttered the almost-pouting Warmaster into his cup of recaf. "Throne on Terra", and "Not what I meant at all", also were said.

It is not my place to advise, but forgive my insistence: Cain should be our Highest Priority. It's bad enough that he's already turned part of the subsector into the greatest daemonic incursion since the Eye of Terror.

But what really worries me? So far, he's remained a mere mortal through far too much. Instead of damning himself to demonhood, he must've been saving this built-up power for something else. Possibly even an attack on Terra itself!

As is my duty, I will try to end him while this reserved power is still depleted. As the Emperor wills.

(The subsequent attempt on the Traitor Commissar's life was unsuccessful. Rumors of this agent subsequently falling to the sway of Cain's notorious charisma are to be suppressed.)