A wall of olive flesh eclipsed the starlight on the other side. The familiar face of that Cultist - the same Ringarde once thought she could apprehend - appeared from behind the pleasure world's curvature, smiling knowingly, her red eyes glowing and reflecting the cities. "Hwe theenk eet's pretty eezy to describe. Hwee huge-ened!"

"Yes." Swallowing, looking down to the rest of the body, from the well-rounded bosom, to the long legs, Ringarde nodded. "By the Throne, by every Primarch, you've huge-ened, Cultist."

At a grand total of 40000 km, the figure before her would've been incomprehensible, had the Sororita’s own growth not been accelerated through the overpowering energy twisted by chaos. It was nearing 25 million times the height of an average soldier. Hive World Brore S03, which they'd been walking on not long ago, only barely spread the distance from her feet - pointed like a ballerina - to her knees. Even moving her hand close was enough for some of the cities on the planet before them to be simply pulled in by the force of gravity, to her open palm. She seemingly ignored that suction, simply petting Ringarde on her head. The massive fingers played with her albino hair, spreading structures among it.

"Ees samtheeng wrong?" The colossal, purple-glowing maiden playfully swam in for a closer look, burying landscapes below in her swinging, thousand-and-a-half-kilometer-deep cleavage. Streams of frenzied, excited motion burst out from the ground at the touch of the hefty weight. "Eef hyuu deesiyor, hwee may... become smahler? Shreek for hyuu?"

The woman, sweating rivers, held her palms up. "N-no!... I mean... This change is a lot to get used to, but... I-it would be unfair. I had an honourable defeat at your hands, a-and your other parts… and this experience was..." Choosing her words carefully, as the prying, cute button nose of the lovely figure peered in deeper, Ringarde peeked away, blushing. "Seeing all those sights, from above, with you, it was pretty awesome... In-in the sense that it inspired awe… By which, I should say, it was not altogether unpleasant to go through it with you, from so close..."

Another purple-hued Cultist body approached from the distance, with a similar smile, and the exact same size. It brought satellites in its hands. Hordes of Space Hulks with their own self-sufficient colonies, and Eldar Craftworlds, shells rearranged with messages of love, with hundreds of psychic voices chanting the same love songs. "Eet hwas nahtheeng~"

Smaller, purple-hued Cultist daemonettes crawled up her, under her armor, gently massaging her - and subtly pulling off chunks of her breastplate, to ready it for the planet before them. "Because hyuu were so kind, thehr weel be moar expeeriences for hyuu~"

Others came from every end, pushing the orbit of the Pleasure World before them closer to her rosy, exposed flesh. Those love messages soon were massaged into her shoulders. Some held loyalists who had been in the fight - including, among them, the Ultramarine leader who had conferred with her earlier. He was in a haze of unbridled happiness, frosted tips perked up.

"Eeternitees ahf eet."

The first daemonette, still at 40000 kilometers, gave a toothy smile, rubbing her cheek. "Hworlds af eet."

"Ah - when you tempt me like this ---" Ringarde shook. "It feels like... It feels like you're everywhere... and I guess, you are, the real you..."

Immeasurable lightyears away, Kay-oss dashed and yapped at Tzeentch daemonettes throwing meteors, chasing them down. Old landmasses split and multiplied from their every movement, creating new orbits and maps.

Sepsis snored away at her own Plague Planet, everything still, except for the occasional Nurgle daemonette in the shape of her friend - shifting some rotten continents to tuck her in, for perfect comfort.

"Fuck, can't this thing move any faster? I swear to fucking Lorgar, we've been in full retreat for longer than any Khornate has the right to be. If that screeching dipshit still isn't out of our rear-view mirror in ten seconds, I'll make Kharn's slaughter records look like--" At the very edges of the Milky Way, Dranon slammed on every bit of metal available in his ship’s hull, an aura of solemn rage permeating his being that kept any of his cultists from saying a single word.

Every one of them: the red-tinted daemonette ahead of him, holding her muscular arms out, and hugging his ship. All his screams of agony and rage melted in the streams of stardust, as thrusters in full blast separated from the vehicle.

"MAH-STOHR! Hwee found hyuu!" Squeezing it into her bulging, sweaty abdomen, the ship buckled from her very touch. "Hwee knew that eef hwee kept looking, hwee would reach you! Hyuu don't haff to fight anymore, hwee're here now!" She flexed her arm muscle proudly. "Eet's thanks to hyour trust, and hyour feelings, that hwee became thees beeg and stronk - for mahstor, and for Kay-Oss!"

Only one word emerged from the cacophony of crunching metal below, as Khornate cultists spread out of the wreckage: "BAAAAAAAAALLLLS!"

Between cracks and twinkles in the stars, white shapes shifted - hidden amid black holes, on the dark sides of moons, and underneath their daemonette sisters. At least, those who saw them assumed they were daemonettes - none could focus on them long enough, before some malicious energy had prodded different parts of Cultist into a petty squabble, using comets as snowballs. The misty apparition lingered not just in the realm of gravity and constellations; but in rumors, mysteries, and small blanks in history. Perhaps this was the trace of a missing god, known to some as Malal. Perhaps she had always been in those spots, behind mysterious disappearances, just out of sight - awaiting for her powers to reawaken, or growing backwards into the flow of time. Perhaps she had been some part of Cultists sealed away, finally reawakened by the initial Warp Storm. Nevertheless, the pale shadows cackled and giggled from the sidelines, excited to see what discord they could stir next.

Misaligned from the rest of the solar system by the shifting forces of gravity sucking it down, the population of Terra began orbiting a left foot's middle toe. Pluto's orbit was 750,000 times smaller than the radius of her toe - so it was difficult to adjust to. More and more surrounding worlds were pulled into the circular shape, forming something of a ring. But even as Chaos-infused realms passed, any fleet they sent out was stopped peacefully by a single finger - taking them to a new world as she itched a spot on her celestial body. "Play nice, loyaleests!"

As of yet untouched worlds, with the merest thought of Cultist, could call her into being. Just a simple belief could make her presence radiate in - and begin filling the room, higher and higher, or else shrinking the person inside. Even someone simply acting as a scribe to note down this history of ascension, or reading the text, may witness her giggling form spawning nearby.

The eye of Terror, a seemingly bottomless source of corrupting energy, spread less than the surface of her navel. In the Materium, she was around 30 Milky Ways - or, in total, 4 million lightyears. In the Warp, she stretched further. Further and further, to the point that nearly every channel and current in that subspace was, essentially, an extension of Cultist's nervous system. A single-minded dedication to the idea of Chaos - which ascended into Chaos itself. The smallest traces of emotion in any side of the universe, even tempting ideas in realities past this one - all the way down, it was Cultist.

That was a fairly good start for her. And still, she kept growing. Almost in a whisper now, the veins and sinews of the universe echoed with confused, overlapping voices:

Thus spake Khorne: "FUCK YES LOOK AT ALL THAT BULLSHIT BLOWN TO FRAGGING GIBS AGAINST A WORTHY FIGHTER BOD I CAN LITERALLY FUCKING TASTE THE PSYKER BUTTHURT"

Thus spake Slaanesh: "that self-indulgence tho o3o ugnuu i bet those little bois like dat <3 shake ur cute galactic butt gurl (/^_^)/ (^_^) (^_^)/"

Thus spake Tzeentch: "The universe changed - and it changed again - and yet again - every time her toes so much as twitch - all routes shift - society mutates - it all rearranges - new maps - new beliefs - new plans plans plans-"

Thus spake Nurgle: "Smells niiiice and staaaale... Looooooots for room for bacteria to grooooow, and froooolic... reaaaal relaaaaaxing..."

Thus spake Cultist: "Hahah, hwee lahf hyu guys, too!"

Art by Made-In-Donuts

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Art by TinDin

Art by Joykill