"Kreeaaaagh—!"
A psychic scream, amplified to a bone-shattering crescendo by a Banshee Mask, tore through the air. This spiritual roar, akin to a storm of shattered glass inside the mind, instantly repelled the surging tide of rats. Seizing the opening, an Aeldari host composed of elite elements—Howling Banshees, Striking Scorpions, Fire Dragons, and Wyches—charged into the fray.
The Fire Dragons raised their fusion guns and flamers, unleashing torrents of brilliant white heat that reduced the vermin to drifting ash in an instant.
"With me! Do not let yourselves be bogged down by these vermin!" Lelith Hesperax leaped with predatory grace. The Queen of the Knives flicked her blades with practiced loathing, anatomizing the foul rodents that lunged at her even as she spoke.
Under the ferocious momentum of the Aeldari warriors, the Skaven were no match; they were harvested in great swaths as the strike force carved a bloody path toward the Webway Gate.
Then, Lelith saw them. Standing before the threshold of the gate were a dozen horned rat-things, skittering and plotting. At their center, the one with the longest, most twisted horns brandished a staff topped with a warpstone shard, channeling sickly green psychic energy in an attempt to destabilize the Webway portal.
"No! Kill him!" Panic flared in Lelith's chest. She vaulted off a nearby wall, using the momentum for a counter-charge that brought her crashing down directly in front of the Grey Seers.
"Eeek—!" Startled, a Grey Seer raised his staff to retaliate, but in close quarters, none were a match for Lelith.
A defensive charm nestled against the Wych Queen's scant armor flickered, manifesting a null-field barrier that hissed as it deflected the emerald bolts of sorcery. With a fluid, elegant pirouette, Lelith's twin blades sang through the air. In a single heartbeat, two Grey Seer heads spun into the dirt.
"Squeak-chatter! Run-flee!" The remaining Grey Seers broke, their dignity vanishing as a foul, musky scent of fear wafted from beneath their tattered, ornate robes.
"NO! Useless-fools, all of you!" Thanquol shrieked in a bile-drenched rage. Yet, his own reflexes were honed by a lifetime of cowardice; he scrambled upward, scaling the hunched form of a Bonebreaker.
This four-armed Rat Ogre was a custom masterpiece, birthed from the horrific collaboration of Clan Moulder and Clan Skryre for the Arch-Grey Seer. Beyond the flamethrowers and pneumatic drills grafted to its limbs, its massive frame was encrusted with thick plates of bonded plasteel stitched directly into its muscle.
As Thanquol took his seat, the Bonebreaker entered a state of mindless frenzy. Like a four-armed simian titan, it began to lash out, its massive blows threatening to crush Lelith into a red smear.
Lelith, a veteran of the gladiatorial pits of Commorragh who had bested countless xenos monstrosities, evaded the strikes with effortless fluidity. As the Rat Ogre lunged with a whirring drill, she stepped onto its massive forearm, using the beast's own momentum to vault toward Thanquol.
Thanquol reacted instinctively, lashing out with a bolt of Warp Lightning that caught Lelith mid-air.
The sound of shattering glass echoed as Lelith's psychic displacer field buckled and broke. The resulting feedback sent her reeling back, her slender form tossed through the air by the kinetic backwash.
"Careful!" A figure clad in shifting, crimson psychic armor caught her. It was the Visarch, recently reverted from his Avatar of Khaine form. This particular Shard of Khaine was an anomaly, capable of manifesting and receding repeatedly, a feat he had performed several times during this engagement.
"Tch! Kill him now. He's trying to collapse the Webway Gate!" Lelith didn't waste time with pleasantries as she jumped from his arms, wiping a fleck of blood from her lip.
Behind them, Howling Banshees and Striking Scorpions opened fire, their shuriken pistols spitting a hail of monomolecular discs at Bonebreaker. Thanquol shrieked, weaving a shimmering barrier of green energy to intercept the projectiles.
"No-no... Great Horned Rat, I will not fail!" Thanquol wailed, his voice cracking. But as he prepared to unleash the full extent of his sorcerous power, he felt his will clamped in an iron vice.
It was Eldrad Ulthran, High Farseer of Ulthwé. Though Eldrad might be a mere pawn to the gods, before mortals, he remained a legend. Pitting his vast psychic might against Thanquol, specifically targeting the rat's focus on the Aeldari, Eldrad stood as a titan, a peer to the Tyrant of Commorragh, Vect himself.
Eldrad's eyes crackled with brilliant blue arcs of lightning. Channeled through his staff, his entire being was focused on suppressing Thanquol. "Open the Webway Gate, now!" he commanded.
An Archon of a Kabal, long accustomed to such maneuvers, stepped forward and expertly activated the gate's sequence, sending warriors to escort Yvraine and Isha toward the portal.
Seeing this, Thanquol spiraled into a panic. The Great Horned Rat had commanded him to hold the line and prevent the Aeldari from escaping. If he failed, the consequences would be unthinkable.
Driven by desperate resolve, Thanquol turned his wrath inward. He lashed out with psychic lightning, ensnaring the corpses of the fallen Grey Seers and those attempting to flee. Amidst their high-pitched screams, he ground their essences together into a writhing, blasphemous slurry of gore.
"Come! Come forth! I summon-call the ultimate servant of the Under-Father!"
Thanquol's howling roar filled the chamber. The blood and flesh, saturated with raw warp energy, coated the Webway Gate, temporarily corrupting the ancient Old One technology into a jagged rift leading directly to the Realm of Ruin.
"Oh... so soon you find yourself in need of my aid-help, poor-pathetic Thanquol?"
A voice like a thunderous echo of terror and majesty rippled from the defiled gate. Then, a massive, xenomorphic shape hauled itself out of the rift—a colossal Verminlord.
But this was no mere daemon. This was Skreech Verminking, King of the Rats.
As the Horned Rat's most powerful Greater Daemon manifested, the surrounding Skaven erupted into a jubilant, frenzied chattering. Under the pressure of Skreech's psychic aura, the vermin began to mutate; their bodies twisted and cracked as they grew in size, many attempting to stand upright on two legs as their frames swelled with unnatural strength.
"O Great, Mighty, Treacherous Verminking! For the glory of the Under-Father, you must not-not let these pointy-ears, these elf-things, pass-pass!" Thanquol shrieked and jabbered.
Yvraine looked upon the towering Rat Greater Daemon, her heart sinking. "Indeed, the Dark Gods are never to be trusted."
Skreech, however, only chuckled, a wet, rattling sound. "The Horned Rat keeps his word... He said He would give you this chance. Now, we see if you are strong enough to take it."
It was clear that this Rat-Fiend's power rivaled, or perhaps even eclipsed, that of Shalaxi Helbane, the daemon who had once toyed with the Aeldari's greatest champions. Unrest and dread spread through the Aeldari ranks.
"YES-YES! Pointy-ears take nothing! Hahaha! Nothing!" Seeing his patron arrive, Thanquol's arrogance returned tenfold, like a cur emboldened by its master's presence.
With a sudden surge of spite, he amplified his psychic output, hurling a massive sphere of emerald warp-fire at Eldrad.
"Wait, you idiot...!"
Skreech's warning came too late. Under the explosive collision of two supreme psykers' full power, the fabric of reality buckled. The energy tore open a jagged, unstable Warp rift.
A wave of absolute horror washed over the battlefield. On the other side of the tear lay a palace of violet, decadent rot.
"Oh... at last, I have been waiting for you, my sweet children~"
As that androgynous, silken voice echoed out, every Aeldari present was paralyzed by soul-deep terror. Isha's very spirit seemed to wither.
In the chaos of that psychic clash, Slaanesh had reached out, subtly tugging at the threads of the Warp. The rift had not opened to safety, but directly into the heart of the Palace of Slaanesh, so that the Dark Prince might personally claim the prize.
Let us see if the Horned Rat has the gall to come and stop me in my own domain.
——————
If you want to read ahead of everyone, go to my pat-reon: pat-re-on.c-om/magnor (remove the hyphen to access normally)