Editing Nobledark Imperium Notable Planets (section)

== The World That Wasn't ==

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The Veiled Region is a very strange region of space in a very strange galaxy. Given the odd patch of unstable stellar objects it would indicate that something big and odd and probably unpleasant happened there a very long time ago. The place was un-colonized by the Eldar throughout their history to an almost obsessive degree, they wouldn't even travel through it. The GaBHD never showed much interest in it, but mostly because for anything in that mess you could find it elsewhere easier, also the other members of the Interstellar League believed that the place was haunted or cursed in some way and humanity by that point was smart enough to believe in magic again, at least as a byword for the work of elder civilizations.

There aren't any tomb worlds there and never have been.

The only people found there are some sort of slug like creatures of limited tool using who are possibly insane or have a mindset so different from humanity that common ground and early communication haven't been achieved yet, assuming that they even can communicate. It's possible that they don't pass on information and the reason they are so primitive is that they are all isolationists who have to invent the wheel again every time. In any case they better get good quick because their world has half a million years tops before the star cools down totally and the world becomes utterly uninhabitable.

There are a few orks, because of course there are.

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Archeologists in the Inquisition, Inquisitor Helynna Valeria in particular, are pretty sure that this is where Llandu'gor was erased and all the fucked up shit is the result of universal constants having changed and then changed back. The slugs presumably evolving afterwards from something introduced since.

At the very edge of an uninhabitable system orbiting a red giant, lies what to the unwary travel looks like an asteroid belt, not dissimilar from the Kuiper Belt back on Sol. The shrewd explorer might be puzzled as to why no rock is greater than a dozen meters in diameter, and why all of them are in an irregular shape. The Ark Mechanicus ’’Adamantium Concordance’’ was manned by such shrewd explorers, and the Magos sent in a servitor probe to take a closer look. The pict-feed was baffling, even to the jaded augmented captain. The asteroids were actually millions of demons, from lowly Tzeentchian horrors to a mighty Undivided prince, all turned to stone, forever frozen in an expression of fear, petrified like in the ancient fables of knights and wizards. The Navigator did not pick up any turmoil or interference in the warp, nor was it calmer than usual. This orrery looked just like a monument to pointlessness and absurdity, and the Magos decided to leave it at that.

Imagine you are standing still in your room. Then suppose that the carpet gets pulled from under your feet, and you fall. But it's not the carpet; it's the very fabric of reality that suddenly changes, inertia suddenly stops working, a movement isn’t possible without an exerting force upon a still object. You are a Daemon, the very definition of unreal; being in a material body is already enough of a limitation, even in the semi-irreality of a Daemon World. You can shape your surroundings to your belief through pure willpower; in keeping with the former analogy, you can move, fold, lift, turn around the carpet over which you're standing, because you're an intelligent lifeform and the carpet is just a piece of parchment.

But then it's not.

It starts pulling at your feet, squirming like a worm, you get mired in it like quicksand, and it thrashes like open sea during a storm.

This is very wrong, it's not supposed to be like this, “I'm in control of this carpet”, you say! Except you are not, it's now animated, it doesn't stand still, it's almost alive.
I'm (un-)alive! You say, poor Daemon, if there even is such a thing as a poor Daemon.
You try to hold it, to squeeze it, but you're not in control anymore. So you try to flee.

And that's the last of your arrogant mistakes.

Reality is already enough in turmoil; it doesn't need, no, IT DOESN'T WANT you to pull out. Physics is getting fucked sideways so fundamentally that it prefers to keep warp creatures, just to have something barely stable and coherent in its embrace. You feel yourself stretched between realms, your essence being pulled by the thread, slowly, painfully unraveling. It's a completely new experience to you. Maybe, if you're Slaaneshi, you're orgasmically enjoying your destruction, a sensation so alien and unexpected that it is sure to please your Many-Gods-In-One for its novelty. But you won't be around to share your master's satisfaction. With a last, brutal, pull, you are metaphysically torn apart, your immortal essence disintegrated. Ironic, that the death of the Flayer reduces the Immortal to dust just like a Gauss Flayer does the same to the mortal. 

And then, it's all over. Reality, with a last trembling, reasserts itself, attempting desperately to reconstruct itself. For whatever reason, the death of Llandu'gor deleted all celestial bodies in this system smaller than a moon. So, reality makes do.

The sudden death of million of Daemons left a mute echo in the fabric of the universe. It coalesces, then crystallizes in the aspect of the screaming unsouls in the moment of their demise. This system needs an asteroid belt, because that's how this system works. It couldn't be anyway else.

Nobody has been brave, or foolish, enough to fly past the belt and see what happened to the Daemon World itself.

The planet itself does not exist. It may appear to have physical dimensions and be composed of tangible matter, it may even be habitable with use of sunscreen and a warm coat but it does not exist and should not be approached or directory interacted with and international direct observation is prohibited. The system is under quarantine by order of the Inquisition.

Due to the non-existent nature of the planet and area of space up to between 420,000 to 430,000 from the planet's surface anything passing into the effected area, which does not exist, also ceases to exist.

Observation from outside the quarantine zone, which contains nothing, may indicate that objects introduced may continue to exist and even interact with native objects. Neither the foreign object or the introduced matter at this point can be said to exist.

The effected area does not produce or absorb any measurable light or other radiation and has no detectable effect on the electromagnetic landscape of the star system.

Any observations that seem contrary to this are wrong.

The area and planet, that do not exist, accordingly have no name and may in fact be unnameable.
The slugs live on a different planet that does exist and presumably has, has had or will have a name at some point. Though probably not one made by the slugs who may or may not have a language.

The planet that doesn't exist may have had a name when it did exist but the name has been erased. Perhaps the name itself has also been erased and so may never be renamed and is now utterly forgotten or perhaps it's just that anyone who did know it is dead, it's hard to say.

In any case it's possible that those daemons are not missed by their gods. The gods can't remember their names. They have been erased and gods are very sensitive to that sort of thing, to them as things are now those daemons never were. Possibly if pushed they may be forced to admit that there was a Daemon World here somewhere at some point. But a Daemon World needs a master and this place has never had a master. [[Malal|It is not a place that exists]].

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