At the joint command of Asdrubael Vect and Lady Malys, the Kabals of the Dark Eldar launched a ferocious counter-offensive against the invaders. Countless Kabalite Warriors, armed with splinter rifles, engaged in bitter urban warfare within the labyrinthine dark alleys of Commorragh.
Splinter fire and dark matter beams wove a lethal tapestry, stalling the encroaching tides of Slaanesh.
"Let none of the Great Enemy pass! Hold the line!" an Archon bellowed, his power sword shimmering with lethal energy.
The Kabalite Warriors formed overlapping kill zones across the winding, Escher-like architecture of the Dark City. Slaaneshi Daemonettes shrieked with perverse glee, weaving psychic glamours to confuse their prey before leaping into the fray with fluid, blurring speed to begin the slaughter.
Beside them, the Emperor's Children tore through Commorragh in a state of ecstatic frenzy, pillaging and murdering at will. The purple-clad Chaos Space Marines cackled amidst the storm of splinter fire, their movements a decadent dance of death.
Leading the charge was the Phoenician himself, Fulgrim. The Daemonic Primarch moved like an unstoppable harvesting engine; his massive, serpentine form coiled through the streets with terrifying destructive force, his multiple arms reaping a bloody toll on any bold enough to stand in his path.
A Great Daemon of the first circle and a Daemon Primarch, their combined presence sent tremors through the very foundations of Commorragh.
"Continue! Do not let the ritual cease!" Lady Malys commanded Yvraine. She turned on her heel, leading her personal guard to intercept the Slaaneshi hosts before they could reach the Crucibael.
"Do not falter, Yvraine. The birth of the Whispering God is all that matters now."
Bolstered by Eldrad Ulthran's counsel, Yvraine nodded. She followed the whispers of the Yncarne, the Avatar of Ynnead, and resumed the rite.
As the souls of a hundred Aeldari were offered as a sacrifice to draw forth the power of Ynnead, the dormant divine energies within the five Croneswords began to resonate in unison. The very concept of Aeldari Death began to coalesce within the Immaterium, and naturally, it gathered at the site of the Aeldari's demise: within the gullet of Slaanesh itself.
Ynnead stirred, restless and eager to be born.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH—!!"
A psychic scream of pure agony echoed through the Warp. For the first time, the Dark Prince felt a sensation of such profound, existential pain. If the God of Death were to truly tear its way out of His form, Slaanesh would be utterly flayed, if not destroyed entirely.
More critically, with the ascension of Ynnead, the souls of the Aeldari would no longer be His to feast upon. This was the ultimate threat.
"Stop the ritual...! Kill them... NOW!"
The raw fury of Slaanesh's command sent a chill down the spine of Shalaxi Helbane. The Monarch of the Hunt immediately led six of the most powerful Keepers of Secrets and their Daemonic legions, surging toward the Crucibael, the fortress-arena that now stood as the Aeldari's final bastion.
They trampled hundreds of Kabals in their wake, ignoring even the advanced grav-tanks of the Eldar in their singular pursuit.
Upon reaching the gates of the Crucibael, they were met by the combined might of two of the greatest Kabals in existence: the Kabal of the Poisoned Tongue and the Kabal of the Black Heart, supported by tens of thousands of vassal splinter-factions.
"No daemon sets foot in Lelith's arena. Unless, of course, you wish to learn the true meaning of agony~," Lady Malys said, shielding half of her exquisite face with an iron fan, her serpentine eyes fixed upon the Slaaneshi host.
"As you command, My Lady!"
Asdrubael Vect himself was nowhere to be seen. The old tyrant was far too cunning to risk his own person; the figure sitting amidst a bevy of concubines was merely one of his many decoys.
"Claim their souls!" Shalaxi Helbane cried, pointing its silken spear forward. In response, a tide of Slaaneshi horrors surged.
Sleek, ant-eater-like Fiends of Slaanesh and the bizarre, two-legged mounts of the Hellstriders charged into the Dark Eldar lines with suicidal fervor.
"Fire!"
At the command, dark matter cannons and splinter volleys descended like a black rain. The ephemeral flesh of the Slaaneshi daemons, never known for its resilience, was shredded and dissolved, their essences banished back to the Warp.
Hundreds of Talos Pain Engines, steered by the twisted whims of the Haemonculi, collided with the Greater Daemons. Yet, even the cruel armaments of the engines proved fragile before the might of the Keepers of Secrets. Within moments, dozens were reduced to scrap.
"My Lady! The fallen humans are breaking through from the western flank!"
A squad of blood-spattered Scourges, airborne Dark Eldar whose wings had been grafted on by Haemonculi, descended, their voices trembling with uncharacteristic terror.
"What? What are those fools in the Covens doing?" Lady Malys hissed in fury. That sector was supposed to be defended by the Haemonculus Covens led by Urien Rakarth himself.
Surely those ancient, twisted maestros hadn't fallen so easily?
But the Scourges' report quickly quelled her anger with dread. Leading the assault on the other side was Fulgrim and his Emperor's Children. At the vanguard was the one man who had turned the lower spires of Commorragh into a slaughterhouse single-handedly: Lucius the Eternal.
Even the ancient masters of the Covens were hard-pressed to stop such a relentless tide.
Lady Malys hesitated, her voice tight. "What forces do we have left to intercept them?"
Her favorite concubines could only shake their heads in shame. Every "all-star" hero of the Aeldari race was currently occupied with the ritual.
"Boring... such a tedious little war~ ahh~ Guilliman, when shall I see that look of despair upon your face again~?" Fulgrim sang out the name of his brother-primarch as he moved, carving through the Haemonculi's monstrous creations as if they were mere silk.
The Emperor's Children following him were lost in a state of hyper-stimulated euphoria, desperate to prove their perfection before their gene-father after ten thousand years of decadence.
The only notable absence from the Legion was Fabius Bile. None knew what the "Spider" was plotting, but the master of genetics had evidently refused the call of Slaanesh this time.
A bolt shell detonated the head of a defiant Dark Eldar warrior. A few Emperor's Children moved with an uncanny, calculated calm, seizing a minor spire within the infinite sprawl of the city.
"Is the counter-sign prepared?" one Emperor's Child whispered in a strange cant, audible only to his brothers.
"Yes. For Alpharius... and for the Great Horned Rat."
"Alpharius commands: wait for the signal, then strike to dismantle them all. Let us see how long these Eldar can endure." These "Emperor's Children" spoke in riddles, their disguises flawless as they plunged back into the fray.
None among them knew exactly how many Alpha Legion Astartes had infiltrated this gathering of the Third Legion. They simply felt a cold, intuitive certainty: their Primarch was here, somewhere in this vast host, waiting for the moment to deliver the killing blow.
Under Fulgrim's lead, the Emperor's Children tore through the defenses, reaching a position less than a hundred kilometers west of the Crucibael. The Dark Eldar, though terrified, did not retreat, prepared to trade their lives for a single second of delay.
Suddenly, a massive Webway Gate erupted into light above the Crucibael. Out poured a veritable armada of Craftworld Aeldari: Falcon Grav-tanks, Nightwing Interceptors, and countless other war engines.
"I never imagined our kin would return to Commorragh in such strength," Iyanna Arienal sighed, before raising her voice in a battle cry: "Strike! For the fallen of Iyanden!"
Multiple Craftworlds emerged from the gate, with the colors of Iyanden, Alaitoc, Biel-Tan, and Ulthwé most prominent. Their host descended directly onto the Crucibael's defensive perimeters.
Deep within the Warp, Lucius, watching the battlefield through the eyes of his vermin, flashed a triumphant, predatory grin.
"Hehe~ Slaanesh, if you don't die this time, I'll take your name!"
——————
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)
