Geron clenches his fist.

Well, at the very least they know the least of his retinue aren't immune. He gestures and Squarehammer pushes Staffanic to his knees in front of Geron, who looks down at him scornfully.

"Pathetic."

He turns to Vael.

"He's infected, I can taste it in his soul. Can you fix him or should we spare him the impending boredom?"

Geron won't partake himself, but it could be worth seeing if the contagion can spread through methods other than watching. Such as ingesting parts of those infected. This spiritual disease was blasphemous, depriving Slaanesh of the sensations that were his due. He would earn the favor of She Who Thirsts by eliminating the contagion and he'd burn this world if he had to. Actually he wanted to, he saw no value for this place beyond kindling.