Cultist's landing could be described as bottom-first; and that set the grounds for the first few minutes of her interactions with the emptied Hive City's rockrete streets. She carelessly dragged her toasted buns through scores of aeon-old architecture, hoping for something to cool off the stinging magma burns. With the surface heavily industrialized, many of the rivers had been coated with acid, clean water sources diverted towards the noble houses in higher levels of the spire. These classes had been moved to safety first; only the last few underhive members in the systemic mass exodus got a rare chance to see monuments and statues that towered far out of their reach ripped asunder by ass cheeks.

Finally, after rubbing a few centers of industry to minuscule nubs, she gained a moment of relief to stop and smell the ashes. Her eyes were wide, disoriented, blinking left and right; scanning the infrastructure as if it were completely alien. An experimental flick of domino-like smoke spires jutting from the soil transferred the equivalent of 2.25 tonnes of TNT in a precise point from her fingertip; toppling the set of them over, and condensing the contents into rare minerals.

Leaning over the wreckage, the Chaos-worshipper nudged at her immense navel, poking Sepsis awake. "Exchuze us, seestohr..." Able to hear her yawns through the will of the warp, she pointed out to the vast spread of urban growth. "...Baht hwat ees thees place?"

The daemonette looked around, and promptly rested. "Hive world. I wouldn’t have minded staying on the Death World, but eh." Taking a long whiff of the poisonous cloud separating the city levels, and looking upon the broken septic pipes carved out of the streets by ass cheek, she sighed in comfort. "Some loyalists really know how to bring out the best in a planet."

Shaking her purple head wildly, Cultist pounded a palm to the ground for emphasis - shattering more of the surrounding terrain. "Hwee were just een spess! That should purge us, or leave us floating for lightyears! Eet doesn't make sense!"

"Warp rift, maybe? Could be someone looking out for you there."

"NNNGH!-DSBFLGH!-NAARGH!"

Perched upon a high skyscraper, three slobbering maws in magenta, red, and blue barked excitedly. They connected to the same quadrupedal body, overlooking some of the new fingerprint canyons, with scorpion-like tail wagging.

Sepsis sunk back in her spot, beginning her rest anew. "Yeah, I'll go with that."

"Kay-Oss! Hyu came for us!"

A form twisted by the Changer of Ways into a beast few dared name; and only one dared jump towards and take in her lengthy arms. The overwhelmingly huge body of the Cultist led to the building beneath trembling as she leaped forward, practically sending him shaking off. His scaley form was soon engulfed in the long-stretching shadow of her bosom - along with much of the neighborhood below. She hugged the whole towering structure to rubble, barely noticing the shards of shattered adamantium breaking off into her bra in the process. Kay-Oss had nowhere to stand, with his platform quickly joining the ashes below. Even when she was leaning down, knee-guards plowing through abandoned sections of Imperial territory, it was a long drop to the ground - and as she kept growing, her shoulders and hips knocked apart more and more of the sky-scraping structures. The happy slurping of her loyal companion, nestled in her arms, led to her giggling from slight tickling.

Cultist kept carefully petting her creature with one pinky finger, or nuzzling her voluminous nose over him. Most looking upon Kay-Oss would call it mindless - and yet, it remained in place. Despite being dangerously high in the air, and risking crushing force from a beast nearly 300 times its size, it showed no resistance; simply yapping and nibbling with excitement at the familiar voice and touch. "Hwee meesed hyu! Have hyu been a good boy? Hwee aren't used to looking at hyu from uhp heer! Hyu have very nice scales, yes hyu do!"

Scurrying and crawling about, with long stretches and scratches, the beast hopped across her scars; and at last, ended up perched on her shoulder's spikes, panting. With a final rub of her humongous cheek against his whole body, swaying him up and down, her voice's high volume nearly sent him hurtling off: "Hwee are most grateful for hyuu! Do hyuu desire any rewahrd? Hwee weel cap-toor something sweet for thahnks! Maybe waffles, eef the gods weel eet!"

And with a "GNNRLLLSHBRR" of approval from the Chaos Spawn, thus began her next quest: seeking nourishment. She had no problem moving from one end of the city to the next; since even at a crawling pace, her arm span reached 150m. But rather, being at a scale at which people may have described as "Epic" (or perhaps "Titanicus" in older tongues), with the average guardsman being about 6mm in comparison (and burly Astartes at around 7), searching the structures for anything salvageable was a serious ordeal.

Art by Alef-GP

Factories devoted to providing the Imperium with weaponry had their windows shattered by curious fingers; and soon, their walls caved in through grabbing hands. Multiple production lines ended up crumpled in her fist by accident as she pulled them out, observing the shattered and twisted contents without really understanding them. Trying to detect traces of food for her noble pet, she sniffed inside some of the sprawling mess, sucking in a mix of gunpowder, smoke, and toxins; just as quickly sending it firing out in explosive sneezes, the ticklish projectiles flying off from her sinuses and into the winds in a shrieking "Hyaa-tchoo!"

And yet deeper she pierced into the civilization; spreading chaos in her wake, amid the few distant onlookers too rebellious or poor to have left the Hive City immediately.

In the forgotten history of Terra dozens of millenia back, or on distant Feudal and Frontier world, buildings coming close to the Cultist's current size would be major landmarks, if not symbols of a culture, overlooking the land from above. Centuries of ambitious urges to rise ever higher, and simple problems of overcrowding, meant long streets of 100-floor structures weren't a rarity. Spartan living quarters packed densely to maximize storage, and facilitate commutes to workplaces, meant that navigating through ever-narrowing alleyways and down roads was a harder and harder ordeal for the growing heretic.

At first, whole storeys of evacuated structures came crashing down seconds after her red eyes filled their stained-glass windows. But as she climbed to see higher levels of the proud monoliths, they quickly sank beneath her weight, leaving her leaning over to scavenge uselessly for resources inside their hollowed steel carcasses on the ground. Even squatting soon became an impediment; with her hip size increasing into the hundreds of meters, she ended up accidentally flattening some adjacent buildings's lower floors, causing the upper ones to crumble and cascade upon her back.

Still, amid all of them, no luck.

Wiping her armbands clean of the dust-like rubble, the rampaging devotee sighed. "Has thees planet eenvented waffles yet?" She sniffed about, unable to detect any traces of sugary indulgences having entered the hive worlders' recycled resources or Imperial dietary restrictions. "Hnn, Kay-Oss eez zo good at finding fuud. How do hyu do eet?"

Looking at her snapping, shoulder-bound monster, and listening carefully to his bellowing "SHNNRCHBLLRGH", she watched the smiling spawn of the Warp make lapping motions.

"Haahah, hyuu are zo smart!" With an eager nod of understanding, she once again fell on all fours. The colossus started dragging her tongue around the rubble she'd generated, and across the lower-reaching structures. Like a slick, moist bulldozer, it pulled in much of the remaining vehicles, loose items, and the smallest remnants of plant life. Each bit added to the contents of her bubbling stomach, churning the meager contents into further fuel. And behind, there remained only a soaking trail, deeper and wider than those left behind by a Valdor Tank Hunter.

This practical wasteland of rockrete would have made a normal palate choke, spitting everything out. Cultist had no ordinary palate. She was used to scrounging up whatever she could to survive; and even the worst parts of Hive Worlder diets (or waste sites) were something she could bear, to follow the trace of a reward for her close companion.

Eventually, the tastes - with only the slightest hints of food refinery, snaking across multiple specialized chefs - led her higher and higher. She slithered up some of the magnificent structures that made up the center spire, its reinforced roofs and windows forming perfect hand-holds and footholds. The further into the skies she ascended, as the already-small structures became a memory on the ground, the more it felt like it was swaying beneath her; and the more mysterious crunches she heard beneath her. But still, holding tight to the cathedral-like towers, she let her senses carry her past the layer of floating musk, upon the most overbuilt and twisting of the world's skyscrapers.

A nearly-impossible display of architectural devotion, tower built upon tower upon tower. It was a wonder that stood for centuries: defying the clouds; defying the capacity of human minds; defying several health and safety restrictions; defying lost concepts of the old world such as "maximum weight capacity"...

With a more solid plan, or better knowledge transfer among previous builders, the tower may, hypothetically, not have snapped under the 6600 kilotonnes of Chaos climbing it. And yet, it snapped; supports torn and ripped within her flailing grip, ignoring her whining screeching "Hyelp us, gods!" Cultist's body made a high-pitched whistle as she fell, crashing through high walls and barricades keeping peasants out. With the dizzying speed the descent gave her, she pierced through several layers of ancient structures built on top of each other in spirals; leaving behind her silhouette in various destructive, desperate poses where citizens once lived and worked, many times over, all the way to the basest levels of the Underhive.

*SLAM*

Urban growth slipping off her curves in waterfalls, she rubbed her head in pain; and tapped Sepsis and Kay-Oss' respective spots, double-checking that they were uninjured. It took a moment for her to regain her breath, thanks to the deteriorating air quality. With dark, dreary buildup hanging overhead like a ceiling, she could barely identify the structures she was wading through - besides a vague slushiness, as if wood were rotting and metals rusting beneath her very steps. It seemed that even in this nigh-lawless area, forgotten by the administration, rival clans were still able to (mostly) clear out the very core of the metropolis; there was barely a noise about, all buried under the gathering breaths and footsteps from Cultist.

Though still, there was an unsteady whisper: "A morte perpetua... hah... Domine, libra nos."

Following the faint noise, stumbling through the darkened stretches of tubes and roads, Cultist went forward.

"From the blasphemy of the Fallen... Our Emperor... deliver us."

Even at low volumes, the noise had an echo - making it hard to determine where it came from. And yet, there was something about it. "Hwee theenk... hwee recognize thaht sound. Are hyu-?"

She was cut off by a screaming war cry, at a volume that sent her aback. The flare from a bolter lit up a face with red cheeks, eyes turned away. Another quick shot showed off the gold fleur-de-lys upon dark pauldrons. And, as the dome of buildings broke apart from fire, rays of light shone upon the white hair of a Daughter of the Emperor, one kilometer tall.

Ringarde looked down slightly, teeth clenched. "You have had... every chance to repent... and yet, you continue to spread that - filth..." Her arms lifted up. "I have been chosen to guide you to the next world!"

"Ringarde!"

Instantly upon hearing those words, the 815-meter Cultist - 500 times bigger than her standard companions - flung herself at the sister's armor plates. Her steps kicking up masses of sludge, she slipped and slid forward; sweat only adding to the existing dampness, as massive mudslides of torn settlements were launched by her unsteady scurrying. Before Ringarde could react, or even let out another prayer, the olive arms wrapped around her; and the speed of the fall knocked her back.

She whimpered in embarrassment as the thundering POUND rattled the underhive, buildings and roads shaking and falling from above. The black and gold across her rear made a perfectly smooth, levelled to featureless craters beneath the expansive rump. The squirming sister carefully plucked minuscule structures off the cushioned posterior, placing them down gently, before even addressing the incredible closeness of the slightly-smaller heretic. Their warmth joining together led to air temperatures rising within the heart of the civilization.

"Hwee are zo vehry soree - baht eet's zo good to see hyuu, too!" She rose slightly, and gave the woman below her a pat on the shoulders. Her legs kicking up and down led to more pounding pressure on the ground, and further sways and shivers from Ringarde.

Even turning her head away led to an uncomfortable number of crunches and pops from the residences below. "D-do not tempt me to your ways... Cultist..." A sharp inhale led to her breathing in huge swaths of the surrounding toxins - and immediately coughing, choking on the fumes let off from smoldering ruins of scraped-together factories and homes.

At the sounds, the Chaos-worshipper quickly rose off her heavily-protected chest, and began pushing it with cupped palms. "Seester Ringarde! Hyu need fresh air for that!" Helping the wobbling, unsteadily colossus back to her feet - and petting her back to keep her breaths steady - she reached up to the holes bore through the layer of landscape above. It was out of her grasp, even as she jumped up and down; but the massive tremors generated by each leap, each with enough kinetic energy to sustain the continent for a day, made the looser foundations crumble, caving in and widening the openings in the sky.

"S-stop that! Woooah..." Practically bouncing herself, boots plowing through and toppling over blocks of quickly-diminishing land, the Sororita held tighter to her slightly-smaller companion's arm, with its bands in her palms. Her heart sounding like a drum, she didn't dare look down to the devastation below, only ahead to the red eyes before her. "The... the greatest minds of the Imperium have forged me this new body to end your carnage!... B-but they really didn't tell me how... weird it would feel..." Her chest closed in, crushing small portions of land that were scattered across Cultist's torso. "It's as if my very existence is - woahwoah - going against the s-sacred laws of gravity..."

With her toothy smile spreading, the colossus before her took a step back. "Hwee are beegening for our mahstors, too! Eet takes a leetle practice! Hwee'll help hyuu, heef hyuu desire." She lowered the bolter-bearing arm up to her own torso, aiming right at the mark of Nurgle; and spread her arms up, waving them up and down. "Hwee broke a lot of the loyaleest theengs, so hyuu can take your tuhrn and puhrge us now!"

Ringarde bit her 70-square-meter lips, lowered the firearm, and shut her eyes. "I-I don't want your pity! My aim is true, guided by the sacred light of The Emperor!"

*BLAM* - a shot rang out, echoing through the cave. More shots followed, each glowing bright in the makeshift arena as more supporting walls crumbled down.

It completely missed, not even grazing the skin of the Cultist. She blinked, feeling over for damage - and finding nothing. "Hwee theenk the Ehmprah requiyors a new lighbahlb."

"B-but... How? That was point-blank! It couldn't-shouldn't-unless-I-oh-no-please-mercy..."

She was taller. A considerable margin taller, too. As her limbs stretched outwards, consuming more presence and crowding the narrowing realm, they grew out of the way - shots that were once aimed at her upper legs now flew through the space between them, making her ragged skirt flutter. As Ringarde grew, too, from time with the Magos Biologis, her tightening fingers on the grip made the bolter crumple. But Cultist's growth rate was faster - now at 1 kilometer and 304 meters, beating her by a full 100m.

Trodding backwards, Ringarde grasped to walls of the Underhive for support; ceiling lowering as they descended under the impressive weight. "But - how? Th-the data they sent to us was scrambled, but - we had your growth rate on record... ch-charts, and everything... it shouldn't have been this quick...!" She whispered: "Th-they told me I'd match your size..."

In response, she got a long, comforting headpat - which continued as their scalps broke through the rapidly-thinning walls closing the basest part of the city off from their surroundings. "Eet's okay. Hwee know hyou're trying. Hwee don't even understahnd Kay-Oss most of the time!" Hailing blocks of durasteel rained to the streets around their purple and white hair; even as the sister crouched, and Cultist lowered her head to meet hers, more and more of the orderly ceiling gave way to the smoggy sky, revealing cloud layers.

***

It was unlike anything they'd ever seen. The few members of the populace still packed in the Underhive, out of stubborness or sloth, had seen unclear shapes moving in the background, new monoliths in black and gold hidden in the shadows. But bit by bit, as gargantuan tremors shot through their cities, they saw more - felt more - smelled more.

Olive-tinted boulders, slick with moisture, shot through their streets and bulldozed landmarks they'd walked from - homes of rival clans, dangerous spots they'd lost companions. Ranging from ten to fifteen meters, they were connected to a massive slab of fleshy wall - longer from end to end than the greatest Titans, and wider than the entire height of a Warmaster-class one. That colossus, which navigated the danger with shocking ease and grace, sliding around; that was just a foot.

As more and more light shot through the openings, the few unevacuated inhabitants saw her. Towering up to the very highest levels, her every movement tore asunder the cage that they'd spent their years sludging through. Rivers dried up for centuries now were irrigated by heavy volumes of perspiration - each droplet with a diameter that could swallow a Custodes whole, and still have room for more, as it sloshed down and drew trails of wetness through dead roads.

Many minuscule inhabitants took it as a sign of punishment, or an invasion; and fled. It was impossible to fully outrun: each clumsy, lumbering step from the nameless behemoth spanned a city block. Yet, as more fell beneath the crimson Mark of Khorne or the bare expanse of wrinkles, miracle upon miracle happened: they were simply too small to be crushed. They ended up caught between minuscule folds in the criss-crossing pattern of her skin, barely nudged by finely-crunched debris; or briefly caught in the hold of the skin, stuck by its dampness, and carried above to vistas higher than they'd ever reached in their life. 

It started small, with citizens already half-familiar with the ways of the dark gods. More and more joined in, blinded in gratitude and exaltation. And as the towering silhouette, now 1000 times the height of a human, ripped apart the darkened steel clouds to show a trace of the exterior's light, even some deeply loyal to the Emperor fell to their knees.

Not everyone was kissing and sipping from the ground that Cultist trod on. Some of them stayed far away from prostrating themselves before the wriggling masses of skin, offering their belongings as a carpet. There was a considerable portion of the populace who were not cheering her on as she broke apart the Underhive. But there didn't need to be. As light came in; as communication devices carried the effects of her actions; as she inspired more furious rage, gratitude, or even lust from those miles and miles away; the people paying her attention grew in number. Even a small populace of stragglers had more eyes and hearts than the Death World could provide.

And with more eyes and hearts on her, with more Chaos, came faster growth.