In Vostonia, within the upper reaches of Yansk Hive, where the Second Altar stood, the sprawling shantytowns of the periphery festered.
A woman draped in a blue robe clawed back her hood, revealing a head shaped like a crescent moon.
After emitting a guttural cry incomprehensible to ordinary mortals, her avian beak parted, and she addressed the throng of mutants with a piercing, strident voice.
"The hive-dwellers revile you as vermin, as abominations twisted by mutation."
"Is this truth? Of course not."
The blue-robed woman extended her left arm, its claw hovering mere inches from the nearest mutant, blue flames igniting within her grasp.
"Mutation is the benediction of the God of Wisdom. You are the chosen, blessed with enlightenment."
"Follow me, and you shall receive the God of Wisdom's revelations. You shall be gifted."
"You will reclaim the hive that is rightfully yours. You will tear asunder those fools who scorn you, trampling the lofty nobles and the deluded mechanists who worship a false deity beneath your feet."
The mutants erupted in frenzied howls, their rage kindled and desires inflamed by the woman's words.
A mutant with tumorous growths upon his eyelids, his legs trembling, shrieked with fervor.
"Storm the hive! Seize our sustenance! Shred those maggots!"
Mutants from surrounding shanties, and others drawn from distant slums, joined the chorus, their voices a cacophony of zeal.
"Storm the hive! Seize our sustenance! Shred those maggots!"
The blue-robed woman, exhilarated, levitated, the power of the Immaterium surging around her.
"The hour of enlightenment dawns!"
As Vostonia's mutants unleashed a tempest of rebellion, far across the cosmos, by the shores of the Coral Sea in the Cradle of the Sea, Nimrod's gaze shifted within his obsidian eyes.
A faint glimmer emerged upon the azure expanse, subtle yet resplendent.
It was the radiance of the Sea of Souls!
Nimrod's mind grasped the truth: this ocean, venerated by countless Sicilians over generations, perhaps touched by some singular cosmic confluence, shimmered within the Immaterium, treading the path toward transcendence beyond the mundane.
Such phenomena were not uncommon in this galaxy. In the undersea depths of Necromunda's hive-world, a being dubbed "Cthulhu" had accrued divinity through the worship of fish-folk.
The adoration of oceans was hardly peculiar. Shamanic faiths revered three primary objects: ancestors, nature, and beasts.
Even ten millennia hence, when the Imperial Cult dominated, Necromunda's underhives teemed with countless bizarre devotions.
Some sects venerated sewage pits, others worshipped metal conduits, and there were even cults adoring malfunctioning daemon-engines.
Faith itself, through worship, could birth new deities within the Immaterium.
The Tau'va Goddess, embodiment of the Tau Empire's "Greater Good," arose from the collective belief of myriad client races.
The Mother of the Sea was such an entity, yet far weaker than Chaos's lesser gods, sustained by her worshippers' devotion. The tides of the Sea of Souls could rend her fragile consciousness asunder.
"Outsiders call it the Coral Sea, but we Sicilians name Her the Mother of the Sea. She grants us sustenance and sanctuary," Marlena intoned.
Nimrod's pupils contracted sharply, the glimmer in his vision morphing into a blurred, fragmented tableau.
Two tentacles, their tips bristling with serrated teeth, ensnared the bodies of a steel-clad warrior and a bronze-skinned Sicilian.
Razor-sharp fangs tore through flesh, burrowing within.
The vision dissolved, the light dimming further.
"I beheld the Mother of the Sea's vision, and I believe you saw what She revealed to you," Marlena said.
"That sea-beast is called a Gnaw-Octopus. Its body resembles an octopus, but the mouths at its tentacle-tips teem with jagged teeth."
"The smallest mature Gnaw-Octopus rivals a chamber in size, and their bulk swells with feeding. The largest we've witnessed was island-vast, its emergence stirring tempests across the sea."
Marlena's voice dripped with loathing, and as Nimrod glanced at her, he glimpsed shadowed sorrow and hatred in her eyes.
"They are vile predators, blasphemous creatures. Neither Sicilians nor sea-life escape their abhorrent maws."
The gene-primarch discerned the Mother of the Sea's intent in revealing the sea-beast. The Gnaw-Octopus threatened her worship, and she sought Nimrod's hand to eradicate the menace.
[Evidently, the Coral Sea possesses nascent sentience. She understands what will spur me to act: a threat to my followers' lives.
Moreover, the Sicilians are my subjects.]
Nimrod spoke with resolute conviction.
"Should this sea-beast dare confront me, I shall slay it!"
"The Mother of the Sea showed you this vision, signaling that a Gnaw-Octopus has been drawn near," Marlena replied, pausing before adding with a mix of mockery and grief.
"These beasts crave flesh incessantly. The blood of xenos and Sicilians spilled in battle surely lures such predators."
"Follow me."
Nimrod, with Marlena in tow, sought out Vieri.
The bronze-skinned man, bowing deeply, delivered his report.
"My king, I have reorganized Trani's Sea-Guard. We have one thousand nine hundred fifty-two warriors fit for battle."
"Depart immediately for the neighboring Grosseto Island," Nimrod commanded.
Szczesny, having purged the Fra'ow from Trinio, followed Nimrod's orders and sought the island's chieftain.
The chieftain, his warriors decimated, faced Szczesny's well-armed steel legion and chose submission.
Szczesny promptly ordered a muster, recruiting from the scant thousand Sea-Guard to bolster his ranks.
Pressed for time, he devised a simple trial: batches of one hundred dove into the sea to retrieve coral, the swiftest seven from each group joining the Fourth Regiment as recruits.
As the fifth batch returned and steel-clad warriors tallied results by the shore, a dozen tentacles erupted from the sea, two of them coiling around the waist of an islander and a steel warrior.
Szczesny, stunned, swiftly unslung his lasrifle, aiming at the writhing tentacles and squeezing the trigger.
The beam struck true, white smoke rising.
Though his shot was precise, the "Sailor" felt no triumph. He saw clearly: the tentacles had pierced both victims' bodies.
Jorginho, a bronze-skinned recruit who passed the third trial and had learned some Low Gothic trading with Vostonians, was appointed provisional squad leader by Szczesny.
He shouted in Low Gothic to his commander, "It's a Gnaw-Octopus, a cursed man-eater!"
Szczesny, drawing his chainsword, strode forward, barking orders.
"Attack!"
The warriors of Vostonia's Fourth Regiment unleashed their arsenal upon the tentacles.
Szczesny activated the chainsword's central power-rune, phantom scales shimmering across his arms. With the seventh form of "Osberh-Vaya," he cleaved a tentacle segment over a meter long.
A thunderous roar of fury echoed, the calm sea erupting as if a tsunami had struck.
Dozens of islanders and steel warriors were hurled skyward by the surge.
Szczesny gaped as an island-sized monstrosity breached the surface.
Jorginho, terror-stricken, cried, "It's Fang-Ceph, the most fearsome Gnaw-Octopus!"
Szczesny, flung by a tentacle, felt the beast's terror firsthand. His chainsword was lost, his right arm fractured.
[Only my lord can slay this monster!]