Lothar's frame was tormented and warped into an inhuman form. He had been a champion, a daemon awaiting birth, a prince awaiting his crown, and yet he was condemned to a horrible and mindless existence. A wattled crest grew from his brow, his cyclopeaneye became stalked, tentacles, tipped with cruel claws, sprang from his shoulders, his torso swelled to enourmous size and two more legs grew from his hip, hairy and twisted as those of a goat. His fall from humanity was complete.
Even as Lothar's fall was ending, so too was Johaan's climb. This, the second von Gottlieb, had also been twisted further by Chaos, and a tail, tipped with a snapping human face, waved at his back. Yet such a minor Mark was of little consequence to Johaan. The last hand-hold was taken, the last scramble made, and the mortal Johaan slaughtered the last victims. He had kept his awful faith with the Blood God and had earned his final reward. He had reached the summit of his bloody ambition.
Khorne's faithful servant screamed the news of his victory to his master. Johaan, once a man, was born anew into daemon flesh. Vunerable mortality, his rightful inheritance, had been cast aside. He became a servant of Khorne in all ways an was now truly an immortal creature of Chaos. He was filled with a daemon's cunning and thirst for destruction, a craving that had no mortal equal. Johaan had ascended the pinnacle of darkness, and all his wildest dreams were within his grasp. Deathless, an eternity of blood stretched before him...