On the muddy, war-torn battlefield, the weird panpipe stretched time itself, seeming to freeze it. Gurloch stood petrified, bulging and rotting like a grotesque statue. His consciousness thundered in his swelling head—he prayed and pleaded for help from his loving Father, but there was no response. Some mysterious force had severed him from the Garden.
Cassian sensed his moment to act. Wounded as he was, he leaped up, bashed the massive Chaos Lord aside, and staggered him. He rolled and retrieved his power sword. In a flash of cold light, Gurloch's right arm, holding the scythe, and his swollen thigh were both neatly and decisively cleaved away. Foul pus and blood sprayed like a fountain as the giant lost balance and crashed to the muck.
"Don't kill him."
Datch's voice cut in. Cassian's blade halted just short of the traitor's neck. The Lieutenant seethed with rage at the traitor, but chose to listen to Datch's order. He didn't know why this unknown man interfered, but suspected it had deep meaning.
The other Plague Marines howled and charged like a flood, trying to save their master; Cassian lashed out, power sword blazing. Datch played his panpipe and hurled a Pokéball.
WHOOSH—!
A huge, blood-red shadow appeared, alongside a bizarre form that changed color every instant. Skarbrand, one of Khorne's mightiest Exalted Bloodthirsters, and the Changeling, the craftiest trickster of Tzeentch, had both arrived. Datch quickly released Dark Angels from his Room of Requirement to support the Ultramarines.
"Do you take us as your servants?"
"Dark Angels will not be insulted. Do you want to taste the wrath of pride?"
Mordachi glared at Datch.
"Great Caliban, great—" Datch began chanting as if reciting a mantra.
"Respected Nameless One, to serve you is our honor," Mordachi forced a smile, the anger vanishing from his face, though a muscle in his face twitched violently.
"Deal with them," Datch pointed to the crowd of Plague Marines.
"For the Lion King! For glory!"
Mordachi and his brethren launched themselves into the enemy.
Skarbrand and the Changeling leapt into the fray, collecting rewards. Two daemons—who should have had a fight to the death—were on the field at the same time, throwing the Plague Marines and zealots into confusion.
At first they thought their eyes deceived them, but after rubbing their eyes, they realized it was true.
Khorne and Tzeentch… joining the accursed ones?
Damn it, this was a betrayal of Chaos, a truly shameless treason. Their loving father was suffering terribly, fighting this battle alone.
"Kill them—and capture a few living sorcerers, too." Datch ordered the two daemons and the Dark Angels against the Plague Marines. His mission was to help Cassian, but Datch also wanted to capture some Nurgle daemons for item experiments.
The resulting fight was a one-sided rout. Skarbrand's axe whipped up a cyclone of blood and flame, the Changeling's magic bound Plague Marines' limbs, immobilizing them. The Dark Angels, like a pride of furious lions, unloaded pent-up resentment on the heretics with alarmingly efficient tactics.
Facing a total rout, the surviving Plague Marines began to retreat, fading into the mist. Plague-ridden and leaderless, their horde was soon decimated by a counterattack from the Imperial troops.
After the battle, Datch put away his panpipe and took out his Weather Cube. The rain was vile, the ground unbearably muddy—time for better weather.
As he activated it, six elementals—each of pure essence—flew from his Cube, soared into the air, and released their power. Instantly, the plague clouds over Kalides peeled away, as if some unseen hand unfurled a curtain.
At last, sunlight poured down and bathed the devastated earth. Survivors, both soldiers and civilians, froze in disbelief—then cheered and wept with relief.
At the same moment, hypnotized Gurloch convulsed like a drowning man surfacing—his link to the Father's Garden abruptly restored. Agonizing pain and dizzying failure crashed over him. He rose, only to discover himself locked in a cage. Through the bars, he saw his forces shattered, his much-toiled-for plague cloud vanished.
With the weather sorted out, Datch took out a golden hammer, hopping across the field guided by a minimap. He struck wounded soldiers, then tinkered with damaged tanks. In front of stunned onlookers, ruptured entrails healed and shattered bones knit. Even the deep wound in Colonel Tiansku's thigh was instantly healed, leaving only a faint scar. Damaged vehicles and tanks were restored to factory-fresh; machine spirits howled with joy.
When done, Datch teleported to captive Gurloch and the other Chaos sorcerers.
"Hurry, summon a Nurgle daemon. A pure one just from the Garden, if possible."
His tone was so light, he sounded like he was inviting them to a game.
At first, Gurloch and the others thought they'd misheard. Cassian and Mordachi widened their eyes at Datch—if not for their trust in this unknown man, they'd have aimed their guns by now.
Datch, suspecting the NPCs hadn't entirely understood, repeated his command.
Gurloch's battered soul suddenly revived—an ecstatic, twisted grin spread across his rotting face.
"Fool…you'll pay dearly for your arrogance! You'll witness Father's overwhelming blessing with your own eyes!" He barked at the remaining sorcerers to perform the ritual.
"Quickly, open the passage—summon a Messenger from the Garden with the purest rites!"
For sacrifices, they naturally used their own cultists. Channelling heretical magic, the sorcerers ripped open a rift in the warp, belching vile greenish mist and reeking with rot and perverted life.
The land decayed, evil power spreading. Cackling daemonic laughter and weird chants flickered as the garden's phantom appeared and vanished.
First came the lesser daemons—fat, stumpy Nurglings, brandishing rusted knives, swarmed at the Imperials. Datch quickly threw a Pokéball, capturing a fat Nurgle in one shot.
"That's enough. Wipe them out!"
He stashed his Pokéball and gave the order.
Cassian and Mordachi, mystified but obedient, hurled grenades, incinerating the newly summoned daemons, and shot down the sorcerers.
"Ha…ha…" Gurloch started laughing maniacally. "Too late, it's all too late. Never try to control the people of Nurgle. Once the passage is open, you can't stop what's coming. Nurgle's folk will rule this world. It's inevitable."
Sure enough, the rift widened out of control, thick greenish evil light flooding from within. More daemons stepped into reality, their laughter and moans echoing as they poured through.
Then came something worse: a writhing, living mountain of endless rotten meat, rusted metal, and boiling pus. Twin arms, swollen and dripping with virulent fluids, thrashed wild. A vast, gaping mouth on its stomach was like an abyss to the plague dimension. A cloud of flies formed an eternal crown above its head.
With this abomination's arrival in Kalides, the sunlit air again thickened with pollution. Poison fungus and diseased flowers burst up from the ground.
Cassian and the loyalists stood grim, while most soldiers' faces showed outright despair. Facing such existence required immeasurable courage.
"It's... it's the Great Unclean One!" Gurloch shouted fanatically. The surviving cultists roared with joy. Those who thought defeat was inevitable now dreamed of reversal.
"I only intended to fish for Nurgle, but ended up with a god biting the bait!"
"No wonder people say the loving Father is generous!"
Datch, delighted, took out his Bottle of Wind, summoning a vast wind shield. Howling gales swept up the lesser daemons, flinging them high into the sky, spinning like tops.
"Quick, you two—take down the Great Unclean One!"
Datch ordered Skarbrand and the Changeling to engage it. He slipped on his Gundam Transformation Glove, clenched his fist, and shouted, "Attack in Gundam Mode!"
As he finished, countless lines of light shot from his glove, encasing his body, rapidly outlining a full Gundam skeleton. The lines thickened, interlocking into composite armor, emitting dazzling energy rings. The iconic "V" antenna formed on his forehead, his blue head sensor array glowing coolly.
The light faded—revealing a Mobile Suit Gundam, 18 meters tall, painted in red, blue, and white with sharp lines.
"This is really handsome," Datch commented, summoning an energy blade and shield with a thought.
On both sides, shock rippled. Gurloch stared wide-eyed at the advanced technological marvel that just appeared. Cassian, Mordachi, and Tiansku were likewise dumbstruck—where once they'd been desperate, now they couldn't believe their eyes.
"How is this possible?"
Hidden in the shadows, the Prophet of Ark World gazed in shock at the giant mechs.
The threads of fate had entirely tangled.
In the subspace, the Four Ruinous Powers watched the Kalides battlefield with interest. They all paid close attention to the Nameless One, for his powers seemed so strange that nothing they did could influence him.
Even the Emperor's gaze reached Kalides. Seeing Datch transform into Gundam, the Emperor looked subtly confused.
It looked familiar somehow!
Datch could sense himself being watched—but didn't care. After all, the handsome always attract attention.
Datch activated his Gundam thrusters, charging at the Great Unclean One with his lightsaber. Skarbrand and the Changeling joined him in a combined assault.
Skarbrand, once the mightiest daemon under the God of Blood himself, and the Changeling, not a Greater Daemon but a unique being—said to embody the trickery and mutability of all daemons. The Great Unclean One realized it was in dire straits facing these two.
And with Datch in Gundam form, victory favored the Imperials.
The three relentlessly pummelled the foul thing—beating it senseless, scattering fragments of decayed flesh and pus everywhere. Datch planned to use a Master Ball on the Great Unclean One, so he could only weaken, not kill it.
Soon, the immense monster fell, hurled to the ground.
Skarbrand smashed its head with his axe, each blow full-force and merciless. The Changeling conjured a gigantic ice spike, stabbing the monster right in the rear—a particularly brutal display.
"Save me, my loving, great Father!"
Even the most impure are not immune to pain; Skarbrand and the Changeling seemed to savor avenging themselves on Father Nurgle.
Finally, an ancient manor in the depths of the Nurgle Garden opened. A black, sticky door gaped, revealing a bottomless dark abyss, emitting a horrible wailing.
A scary force seized the Unclean One, dragging it back into the Garden.
Damn… how shameless this boss is!
Datch searched frantically for a gadget to interrupt it, but Nurgle acted fast. Before the other three gods or the Emperor could react, he dragged back the Great Unclean One and dozens of daemons, slamming the crack shut.
Datch knew: if the breach stayed open and they poured in endlessly, sooner or later, the Chaos forces would hit the Cursed Legion, and probably the rest would attack the Imperials' base—so a quick withdrawal was wise, before suffering losses.
"No…" Gurloch felt his bond with the Garden abruptly cut.
"No…" Datch echoed, wailing at the vanishing rift, his Gundam form kneeling in despair.
The Great Unclean One he'd wanted so badly—gone!
Why did fate toy with his feelings thus?
Wait, that's not quite right:
In game terms, fate's malice wasn't so much—it's the greedy Devs to blame!
Why does the deadbeat company always mess with my pulls?
Datch had focused solely on capturing the Great Unclean One, ignoring all other daemons. Nurgle took back all but the Nurgling Datch had captured at first.
"Damn Devs!!"
Even his Gundam glove was wasted—those things are expensive!
Thinking thus, Datch cursed under his breath.
Seeing Datch's antics, Cassian, Mordachi, the other Imperial heroes, even Skarbrand and the Changeling, couldn't help but twitch at the corners of their mouths.
Who in the world is this guy?
Datch dismissed the Gundam transformation and recalled Skarbrand and the Changeling.
Then, from his inventory, he produced the item he'd just obtained—the Magic Bubble Bath Machine. With a flash, a tub equipped with a showerhead appeared before everyone.
Everyone held their breath, eyes wide, wondering what he'd do next.
Bllllll—
Datch turned on the shower, water pouring into the tub and quickly producing fragrant bubbles. He took out the Pokéball-Daemon, releasing the captured Nurgling into the bath.
The Nurgling shrieked, thrashing in the bubbles—until finally, exhausted, it sank into the foam, never to move again.
Gurloch mourned, grieving both for his loving Father and his lost child.
Damn you, cursed enemy, how could you pick on a poor child like that?
Moments later, brilliant green light spilled out of the tub. A plump, white creature crawled out, faintly smelling of soap. It blinked big, clear eyes—no longer festering sores, but shining, translucent dots. Tumors and pus were gone, replaced with smooth, healthy skin. On its head, small, beautiful green flowers and plants glistened with dew.
The creature stared at its now-clean, white hands in utter confusion, then looked at the frozen crowd around it and chirped in a childlike voice: "Puji?"
Gurloch froze, face a mask of horror that went far beyond defeat or captivity—almost as if his faith wavered.
The loving Father's child… purified?
No, this isn't reality!!
"This isn't REAL!" Gurloch rattled the cage, shrieking hoarsely. "What trick is this? Tell me, quickly—how did you do this? What deception, what FRAUD, what sorcery? Why? Why did the loving Father's child—why—"
Datch ignored him, putting away the bubble bath machine.
The adorable, plump boy touched the ground, and green grass and flowers immediately sprouted around him. The area was small, but everyone was stunned.
Cassian and the Imperial heroes were all dumbfounded. What was happening?
Why could a Nurgle, creature of plague and death, in the hand of the Nameless One, become a life-bringing spirit of nature?
"Not bad—way better than before."
Datch scooped up the chubby boy, squeezing him and finding him quite enjoyable. Checking his info panel, he saw the name had changed from "Nurgle Spirit" to "Life Spirit".
A simple bath had changed his very name.
Puji!
The clean, cheerful spirit squirmed cheerfully in Datch's hands. The moment Datch let go, it leaped out, sowing seeds that burst rapidly into grass and flowers wherever they landed.
The Life Spirit then joyfully hopped toward the plague-infected, and with every touch, the suffering were healed.