Dang. That got real. Nicely written'

In the middle of a large, empty field stands a phone booth with no wires leading to it. The phone rings; you answer.

Death to the Corpse Emperor, Papa Nurgle loves me more.

The Flesh Moon arrived with no announcement, no warning. One moment the sky was clear; seconds later, it was there. A writhing mass of flesh, tentacles and sinew the size of the old Moon staring down at us. And its gaze led to change.

Our bodies would twist and contort in manners we'd describe as grotesque; flesh melted into flesh, bones shattered and formed patterns hitherto unheard of. The changes were not uniform, but not entirely random either; most found their newfound bodies to reflect their needs. Soldiers gained a carapace akin to kevlar and muscle mass beyond our previous limits. Surgeons grew extra limbs, runners extra legs and thigh muscle. One thing was consistent, though.

We were all better.

Once, my back would scream in pain the moment I turned too quickly. My eyes would fail me when trying to read anything more than half a meter away. Most importantly... I stood up, leaving that blasted wheelchair behind.

The Moon came suddenly. Yes, we screamed and lamented as we saw our bodies morph, but we now understand the blessing this was. You may call our new forms Chaotic; we'd call them beautiful.

The Imperium doesn't understand. Calls us tainted, heretical, corrupted by Chaos. Nurgle, Tzeentch, Slaanesh - they blame them all. Shortsighted fools, all of them. They'll come to try and destroy our beauty. We won't let them. Even if we are to be named Chaos, we are all together, like family.

We are Chaos Undivided.