Ten thousand years I have been the conduit of my Gods. I have been the furious Khorne, the indulgent Slaneesh, the duplicitous Tzeentch, the indominable Nurgle. I have marched men upon thousands of worlds and broke all who stood before me. I have dined on the flesh of Governors and torn asunder children before their families.
Their hate, their hunger, I am their unnamed servant. They have rewarded me for my service with power unimaginable. Command of the Warp's minion, a twisted body of unholy strength, and dominion over countless slaves and soldiers. But they have dragged me from my eternal war to the depths of space to make me anew.
Not a Daemon Prince, no, something greater. Befitting my foul corruption. While false lords and fools wage pointless Black Crusades I have festered in the void. My men roam the stars, dragging back to me countless slaves to build me now my new cocoon, of flesh and bone and soul.
And I, at the center, connected to the teeming, screaming, masses stolen from their homes, erode their very souls and swallow whole that which they would seek to keep from me. Whole worlds shuffled away into the cavernous keeps of warped ships, brought to my floating cocoon to fuel my metamorphosis.
Let Abaddon have his fool adventures. Let the lords bicker over their meager power. I have the favor of the Dark Gods.