Now I've got this image in my mind that poor Nurgle must be feeling very down.
Omake: Nurgle's Predicament
The Lord of Decay took a sip of the cauldron brewing his latest plague.
"Hmm...more poison. Yes, this one will work!"
Adding more infernal ingredients to the substance caused it to boil and turn several colors that would make a mortal go insane just from glimpsing it.
"This will be my greatest creation. It will infect everything this time. It must!"
He thought about how it had ever come to this. Cain. It always came back to Cain. He was supposed to a Warmaster of Chaos Undivided, wasn't he? So why did that mortal hate him so? It was bad enough he had found the Panacea that cured all Nurgle's plagues. But then he had the gall to give it to the damned Imperium. Why? Nurgle had sent every Great Unclean One he could at the ship carrying the STC with the plans, but the other three Gods had blocked him from interfering. No doubt taking great satisfaction at his peril.
The bane of his existence had just spread from there.
The Imperium adopted the Panacea in totality. Even the mildest infection was now gone. The ill suffering of trillions were no longer feeding him.
His cults had collapsed in the aftermath. With plagues becoming a distant memory, no Terrans were interested in his gifts.
The Death Guard had abandoned him en masse to administer the cure to themselves. An entire legion gone.
It was maddening. Every attempt to create a sickness stronger than the Panacea had ended in failure. He needed to find a way to beat this somehow.
At that moment, the Primarch Mortarion rematerialized in the Warp directly in front of him for the forty-sixth time since trying that damned cure.
"By the pits of Barbarus! I'll make it work this time!"
Nurgle sighed, "You're a demon Mortarion and bound to me. It can't cure you."
"Screw you! I'll make it work!"
The Primarch then vanished. No doubt to try taking the Panacea yet again in an attempt to free himself.
Nurgle looked at his domains after his pawn left. His gardens were dying, his weakening demons falling to the other Three and his domains in the Warp continued to shrink.
None of the other Gods would speak to him. Khorne called him weak. Tzeench claimed he had just stopped plotting against him because he was so pathetic. Slaanesh sent a painting describing his pleasure at his misfortune that was so vile he flung it into the Warp.
Was he unlikable? He was always so happy for his followers and just wanted to bring joy. So why had everyone in the damn universe just decided to gang up on him?
He was so desperate that he even tried talking to the Anathema to get his opinion. For all his troubles there was a blinding flash of light and a Text to Speech Device loudly responding:
IF YOU EVER BRING YOUR DIRTY ASS ESSENCE NEAR TERRA AGAIN, I WILL DROWN YOU IN BLEACH FOR A MILLENIA!
He didn't even feel like finishing this latest plague. What was the point? That seven-damned Panacea would just cure it too. He looked up at the cage holding his most treasured possession.
"Isha my dear, do you think I'm unlikable?"
"LET ME OUT OF THIS CAGE YOU WALKING SACK OF PUS!"
Another sigh.
"He's probably sacrificing legions of unbelievers to the other three Gods right now. They must be having such fun there. Damn