The largest shard, a fragment of Khaine's essence, was comparable in scale to an Emperor-class Titan, and far more formidable. This towering avatar, a thundering reflection of the Bloody-Handed God, brandished Asu-var, one of the five Croneswords held by the Visarch.
Like a volcano in full eruption, the Avatar of Khaine strode forward, pulverizing Imperial fortifications in a single step. With a wide arc of Asu-var, it reaped a bloody harvest, butchering a dozen Dreadnoughts and scores of Terminators in a single flash of divine steel.
Nearby, Yvraine and the Yncarne moved with singular purpose toward the Lion's position. Her objective was twofold: to repel the Primarch as swiftly as possible and to ensure the sanctity of the timeline. Should they fail to maintain the sequence of events, the chronological backlash upon the Aeldari would be catastrophic.
The Yncarne, the Avatar of Ynnead, bore the name Nykain. Though it stood no taller than Yvraine herself, its visage was a disturbing fusion of death and excess. One half of its form was a vibrant, daemonic purple, crowned by a massive horn reminiscent of a Slaaneshi fiend, while the other half flickered with the ethereal, translucent instability of a wraith.
In its grip was Vilith-zhar, the oldest and most potent of the Croneswords. The blade shifted constantly in the Avatar's hands, transforming from a barbed spear to a heavy greataxe in the blink of an eye as they tore through the Dark Angels' defensive lines.
Lion El'Jonson finally felt the true weight of the predicament. Contending with the legendary duo of Lelith Hesperax and Drazhar was already a trial of supreme skill; the Lion knew that had any of his less martially gifted brothers stood in his place, they would have already fallen. Now, with the Emissary of Ynnead and the Yncarne joining the fray, the First Primarch's situation turned lethal.
The Lion Sword no longer swung with its usual predatory freedom. Nykain's swordsmanship was like death itself, mercurial, unpredictable, and absolute, forcing the Lion to commit every ounce of his focus to parrying the Avatar's strikes.
Clang!
"What are you doing?" Lelith hissed, glaring at Yvraine. The Emissary of Ynnead had just intercepted yet another killing blow intended for the Primarch.
Yvraine offered no explanation. Her goal was to drive the Lion back, not to execute him and unravel the strands of fate. Yet, the Lion was inexplicably stubborn; even facing death a dozen times over, he refused to yield a single inch. It was a tenacity that left Yvraine exasperated.
Is this human so pig-headed? Or has he seen through our ultimate objective? Yvraine wondered with a flicker of alarm.
In truth, she gave the Lion too much credit. While El'Jonson sensed something unusual about this Aeldari incursion, he had no inkling of their true goal. To him, it was only natural that the xenos would prioritize the greatest threat on the field. For the honor of the First Legion and the First Primarch, the Lion chose to stand and fight to the bitter end.
Suddenly, the skies roared. The Space Wolves had arrived. Their Thunderhawks punched through swarms of Aeldari fighters to reach the surface. Leman Russ, the Wolf King, didn't wait for a ramp; he leapt from the assault craft, hurtling directly toward the Lion's position.
"Hm?" The Yncarne sensed the new arrival, lashing out with a strike that collided head-on with the Wolf King's frost blade, Mjalnar. Amidst the sparks of the clash, Russ rallied his Varagyr Terminator guard and linked up with his brother.
"Haha! I never thought I'd see the day you looked this ragged, Lion! Truly, justice is served!" Russ roared with laughter at the sight of the disheveled El'Jonson. The Lion's eyes flashed with fury, his hand tightening on his hilt as if ready to settle their old grudge right then and there.
"Enough, enough! Let's butcher these xenos first, and then I'll give you another round, how about it?" Russ, for all his feigned savagery, understood the gravity of the moment and moved to restrain his brother's temper.
"Agreed," the Lion nodded curtly. The two Primarchs stood back-to-back, engaging the four Aeldari legends in a clash of titans.
With the arrival of the Space Wolves Legion and their Imperial Army auxiliaries, the Aeldari's tactical advantage evaporated. They found themselves dangerously overextended. A Succubus acting as the voice of Lady Malys immediately signaled for the forces to pivot and focus entirely on securing the site.
"For the Allfather!" Led by their Wolf Priests, the Space Wolves threw themselves into a brutal melee. It was a meat-grinder of chainswords against power blades as they crashed into Aeldari Aspect Warriors and the grotesque haemonculus-creations of the Drukhari, desperate to keep the horrors from reaching their Gene-father.
The battlefield became a chaotic vortex: the Aeldari tried to collapse their line to strike at the Dark Angels, while the Space Wolves fought like cornered beasts to prevent any withdrawal. At the center, two Primarchs traded blows with four legendary xenos champions.
Finally, the Avatar of Khaine finished its task, hewing through the last Legio Mechanicus Warlord Titan. Free from its distraction, it raised Asu-var and turned its terrible gaze toward the center of the conflict.
"FOR OUR FUTURE—YVRAINE, GET BACK!" the Avatar bellowed. A strike capable of rending the very crust of the planet descended in a blur of molten fury.
The sheer power of the blow forced both Primarchs and the four Aeldari legends to scatter. The Cronesword slammed into the earth, splitting the fortress and the bedrock beneath it. A massive fissure, hundreds of meters long and dozens wide, tore open. At the bottom of the chasm lay the meteorite, pulsing with a blinding, celestial radiance.
"What in the hell is that thing?" Russ asked, squinting against the glare.
The Lion shook his head, his voice grim. "I know not. But the xenos shall not have it!"
Both Primarchs prepared to leap into the rift to destroy the object of the aliens' desire. Simultaneously, Eldrad Ulthran and the Seers of Ulthwé began to channel a colossal psychic ritual, aiming to shatter the seal left by the Great Horned Rat.
Under the weight of their combined psychic might, the Formless Distortion protecting the site began to dissolve. Because Lucius had intended for them to break the seal all along, the blinding light vanished instantly. In its place stood a woman with hair like spun silver.
A collective gasp rippled through the Aeldari ranks.
"I-Isha!"
"Our Mother... we have found you at last!"
Even Lelith Hesperax felt the breath catch in her throat. A profound sense of security, long forgotten, surged from the depths of her soul, a primal echo of the age when Isha walked among her children in the mortal realms. The mere presence of the Goddess set the Aeldari ablaze with zeal. Guardians and Kabalite warriors alike, once wavering in the face of the Primarchs, now fought with a suicidal, transcendental ferocity.
"A xenos deity," the Lion spat, his face contorted in righteous fury. "Leman, we cannot allow their god to return to life. Destroy her!"
Russ said nothing, but his grim nod spoke volumes. He prepared to strike the killing blow against the Goddess.
"You shall not, Mon-keigh!" the nearby Aeldari shrieked, throwing themselves at the Primarchs.
Suddenly, a spear hissed through the air, grazing the Lion's cheek and forcing the brothers to halt. They turned to see a lithe, four-armed horror with an unnervingly shifting face. It let out a sound that was less a voice and more a sensory assault.
"Oh... what a waste that would be. This darling goddess has already been claimed by the Dark Prince~"
Shalaxi Helbane had arrived. Following the removal of the Formless Distortion, the legions of Slaanesh, who had been salivating at the scent of their lost prize, poured into reality to reclaim Isha for the Palace of Pleasure. The sudden daemonic incursion began to slaughter everything in its path, human and Aeldari alike.
The ordered lines of the battle dissolved into a three-way slaughter.
"Converge! Protect Isha!" Yvraine commanded. She, the Yncarne, Lelith, and Drazhar leapt into the crater, surrounding the Goddess to ward off both the Primarchs and the encroaching Daemons. "Eldrad, prepare the gate! We must leave now!"
The Lion and the Wolf King stood their ground, brows furrowed. They were caught in the ultimate tactical dilemma: the xenos or the daemon?
Watching from the Warp, Lucius began to laugh. He had known Slaanesh would be waiting for Isha to be unveiled, especially since his own power had masked her from the Dark Prince's senses until now. "Hehe~ Just as I expected. Perfect."
"Go on then, fight... in the crucible of this chaos and terror, the genesis of the Skaven shall begin!"
As Lucius whispered his maledictions, deep within the ruins of the planet Dulan, the common rats, hardy and numerous, trembled at the carnage above. They scurried and squeaked, hiding in the dark places of the earth. These vermin lacked the intellect to understand the apocalypse unfolding, but their souls, driven by a base instinct for survival, began to pray.
The mindless, collective yearning of untold millions of rats began to tunnel through the chaotic tides of the Warp, seeking a dark wisdom. And the Great Horned Rat was ready to answer.
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