Capítulo 29: 29. Kidnapping the Princess
"Ah, this is where our sensors had detected a birthing ground of those simple-minded barbaric Mon'Keights?" a smooth sing-song voice comparable to the most exotic bird left the thinly smiling mouth of a tall, pale individual draped in elegant form-fitting armor.
"Affirmative, Lady Eölim, your prizes are living deep into the mantle of this planet and unaware of their great fate." the one spoken to answered respectfully, his head shifting slightly to the side in an almost liquidy that revealed behind onyx black hair pointy ears akin to blade.
An Aeldari, much like the first who spoke, and with the near totality of the resident in the Cruiser of Wraithbone and masterful psycho-technological engineering. A void ship far above the average in size, defensive, elusive, and firepower to similarity classed vessels.
Though these gimmicks rarely had any use outside of mock battle and beyond the ability to be swift and discreet, not much else mattered. But they weren't using both to their full potential either; it would be an insult to themselves to use it against anything unworthy of their presence.
Though stealth was close to its maximum output, there was no reason to attract the attention of fellow Aeldari for fear of losing their prizes or leading to an extermination squad to purge the systems of the Orks.
The fact they were in Webways changed little on the matter; it wasn't illegal, but having attention on them would be quite an annoyance and a political maze of contradictory complexity. Ancient families and petty rivalries of time forgotten rarely ever lead to bodily harm, but they did destroy many.
"Uncle Hrythyoc, Father, and Mother will be so proud. Those pitiful creatures shall be of good attunement to the shade and design of our new moon palace." Eölim said, blushing and with rising excitement in her heart. An enthusiasm born out of the praises that will come and the method to obtain, the collection, the fabrication, and the conclusion.
She could barely contain her chaotic emotions inside the room. She was bathing in her intense psychic power, distorting reality as a mere byproduct.
Orkoids, amidst their countless defects born out of their innate inferiority, such as a lack of reproductive system, were extremely resilient and adequately strong, making them excellent and prized possessions for many things. Notably, it was not only for a source of enjoyment and workforce, but today, it was not for this.
Their resilience made them the perfect primary materials for living tools, furniture, and construction in specialized markets. Aeldari technology could do miracles of any lower lifeform, turning each into priceless art forms of all extreme and excess. Still, Orks broke those, pushing the possibilities far beyond the norm.
The only genuine inconvenience was their spore gimmick, but it was nothing a good curing process wouldn't fix. Stories of destruction had followed, failing these vital processes, but those risks were part of the fun, the excitement, the thrill. And what was there to fear? They have executed death itself.
-Lady Eölim, Flesh Mender Hrythyoc, we are ready to begin the Green Harvest. The ambidirectional teleportation matrices for delving into the depth have been set, and we await with great enthusiasm your presence and command.- the smooth psychic voice of an Aeldari of feminine quality but distinctly male reached their minds.
-Then what are we waiting for, Uncle Hrythyoc? Chop chop! Let's begin the festivities!- the Lady of the Aeldari Cruiser urged, skipping happily with an upbeat tone toward the lower deck.
"Ah… So young and full of great enthrallment, and such a talent and deep passion for the greatest craft." Hrythyoc said with mirthful eyes and a soft shake of his head as he followed suit, his graceful movement akin to the wind but of superior velocity.
Within the same timeframe, in a massive cave with a ceiling reaching dozens of kilometers in height, was a banquet of equally immense proportions. Hundreds of thousands of green-skinned muscular creatures were feasting merely and drinking in abandon while skittering between them with the ever-present fear of getting crushed was a far smaller, uglier, scrawny version.
These were Gretchins, a subspecies born of the Krork and dramatically opposite to the Orks in general behavior. Still, both lived in a perfect symbiosis, one the muscles and the other the brains.
One doomed to die without the others in some shape or form; everywhere, there was a mighty Ork, and an equally cunning Gretchin was behind. Well, in most cases, but that was in their generality. And those were not the only Krork descendants; the Squigs, serving as livestock, living ornaments, and pets, were equally important, all subspecies forming a superorganism of green and krumping.
And they were rejoicing at a bloody victory against an opposing clan that had taken the revolution and a brutal leadership change as a sign of weakness.
A mighty error that ended with the Boss of the opposing clan on the plate of the freshly crowned one, the biggest, largest, bulkiest, smartest, greenest, and shiniest of Ork in the room. The blemishless and magnificent ring around his tusk showed his superior status as he gorged himself upon the seasoned brain.
-You see, I was correct in using this strategy, my dear Kurgal. Rushing in head first, crying a battle cry would not have ended well.- a voice whispered jollily into his mind.
-Won't ya eva shut yer mouf?! I'm chompin', and quit callin' me dat deary thingy! We ain't best matey!- Kurgal mentality yelled, and the minute chuckle he got in answer almost tipped him over the edge.
-That is truly heartbreaking, but if you so desire, my dear boy Kurgal.- the dark figure dramatically faked horror at his own words, but that was too late. Nothing more than jest and tomfoolery, but that was the Gretchin that broke the Squig back.
"SHUT YER ZOGGING MOUF!" He screamed in red-hot rage, slamming both fists on the bedrock table, every last Ork and Gretchin freezing as his voice reached the entirety of the caves and echoed, creating a wave of deadly silence.
But before anything else, there was an intense flash of kaleidoscopic light in the most prominent tablet, blinding and blasting all Orkoid and food aside in a blast of sizzling air as a geometrical portal of countless glyphs appeared.
Then someone walked out, and the click and clack of her boots echoed across the cave as if ported by every air molecule.
She would be considered the epitome of beauty among her kind, an immaculate natural feature product of millions of years of perfect pairing for the most intelligent, powerful, and beautiful of a lineage of purity matched by only a few. Her long, rosy blond hair was braided into her armor, and the solid light construct grew, forming a pure white dress that existed yet did not impede any movement.
"Oh! How sensible and good of those undistinguished beasts to have congregated in a herd for our grand arrival!" She said, her feminine voice enchanting and oh so alien to all her confused audiences.
"Indeed, it will ease the burden of our hunt in the sinuous confines of those labyrinths of rocks and stones." Another arrived and said, his onyx black hair billowing in a nonexistent wind as his crimson iris scanned his surroundings with cold exhilaration at such untapped potential breathing before him.
-Hmm, the squid bird fucker. Annoying timing. Anyway, she insulted you and your boyz. Go have fun for how short it may last, my dear Kurgal.- the entrancing voice said with honest certainty, and Kurgal's rage that had been interrupted was set ablaze.
"Boyz! Dem intrudaz, smash 'em, kill 'em, an' punch 'em! Krump 'em good! WAAAAAGGGHH!" He bellowed, and like an alarm, it created a chain reaction, awakening every Ork from their surprised state into one of alertness and thirst for violence.
"WAAAAGHHHHH!" The closest to the first figure screamed, a metal pike in his hand going down to cave her skull.
Alas, it was never to be. With a flick of her wrist, the world veered a shade brighter, and the Ork turned into a fine red mist, just as the hundreds behind in a cone formation.
"Metal, stone, and bone apparatus, really? How uncouth even by their abysmal standards. Drearily more primitive than anticipated but expected of Mon'Keighs to never lack in despondency." Eölim scoffed, both disappointment and joy in her voice as both weaker and stronger opposition brought different enjoyment.
But it changed little to nothing. Those creatures' weapons would have never pierced her psychic shield, less be mentioned her physical and metaphysical armor and overall defense. Her bare skin would suffice.
"Do please try not to damage them too much, Lady Eölim. I know and emphasize with your excitement, but the dead are unfeeling, freed of their mortal coils and its beauty." Hrythyoc intoned sagely, walking behind her like a guardian, his grandfatherly tone dramatically opposing his actions.
From both of his wide open palms, three runic hexagons spun into existence, the symbol of healing, defense, and fortitude in evidence to anyone knowledgeable in the arcane. As their first circle ended, torrential rivers of crystallized dark blood flowed and shifted in the air like thousands of snakes, living whips obeying his every minute movement of experience only millennia upon millennia will grant.
And as the blood's whips snapped in the air, creating shockwaves, they snaked among the advancing horde of greenskins, brushing delicately against their skins and leaving behind millions of microscopic needles. However, the air was also an effective vector to carry them.
That was where the magic began. Each needle bloomed, rooting itself into the thick skin like a hot knife through butter; from then, they replicated themselves using the moisture available, draining the blood of the living Orks screaming in shocked pain.
In mere seconds, the targets saw their entire bodies weaken, limbs atrophied as they reduced dramatically in size and mass. Ultimately, they crystallized into the very same crystal that had touched them.
The entire process was excruciating, even for Ork, but it did not kill. It was not a spell to sow death on the battlefield. Its original purpose was to suture wounds and promote rapid healing for further care. Touched victims remained awake, conscious of the agony and alive, their vitals safe from harm and kept in a stable state by the crimson crystals.
The partially crystallized Orks were then dragged back into the portal by the crimson whips, the current within the lifeblood shifting in reverse. Ultimately, they were to be neatly placed in a massive storage chamber. There, they will lay for a time unknown until they are deemed of use, where they will be rehydrated and brought back to adequate health.
Until then, their minds would be fully aware, always awake and screaming in an endless void with their only sense available was pain. This was only the beginning of their journey to greatness.
As this was happening, Eölim did not stay idle. Her gauntlets and boots had grown into immaculate blades as dark as the void of space had grown. Above them, on the wrists and ankles, were golden rings shining brightly in the dimly lit cave.
She danced on the battlefield like an ice skating ballerina, her image multiplying by the dozen as doppelgangers manifested into reality and obeyed her command.
Much like Hrythyoc's spell, it did not kill. Its current level of intensity was not for such boorish purposes. It ignored all physical barriers cutting through the souls and minds alike; it could permanently kill Daemons and Neverborn.
Only her movements of surgical precision were the reason for the lack of death on her many paths as all left behind were falling, screaming silently on whatever lay below them, the control ever their body lost replaced by an agony beyond the realm of Realspace. Behind Aeldari came in flocks to collect the bodies swiftly in their psychic grasps.
"Oi, ya! Pointy 'eared cheatin' fat grot! Stop killy ma boyz! Come 'ere an' scrap wif me! I'm gonna krump ya ta bits an' show where ya belong!" The largest Ork of the green tide, the Boss, yelled at her, the real her as the little dark voice said, and it was with quaking fury that his booming, grating voice reached her and attracted her attention.
She fully understood his primitive language of grunts, not needing a translator as a crutch. Through thousands of cycles, she had heard them both by voices and minds and even without this having a grasp of inferior lifeforms, language was a must to understand them and what worked best on them.
Though his insult did not faze her, not only was it childish, lacking in poetry and nuances, but it was from such a creature. Reacting to it negatively or taking it personally would insult all that she inspires and is, extending beyond herself to her family and the Aeldari as a whole.
"Oh, what is this queer artifact? I want it, I desire it, it calls to my artistic soul!" She said, almost with a squeal. Her focus on the big Ork was short-lived as it switched to the strange ring on one of his tusks, something that, by all accounts, was not Orkish. It vaguely appeared Aeldari but not modern; it was beyond ancient and in no way fit to be on such an unsightly animal, even more so on such a place.
"OI! Don't ya be ignorin' m-" the Ork Boss didn't manage to finish his sentence that she was right in front of him, his eyes widening immensely out of astonishment. But he didn't have the time to bore his massive mining drill armed with many cannons on her, and neither did she react that an arcane circle with many five-pointed stars at their feet appeared.
"Wha-" both Kurgal and Eölim said in their respective languages. At this very moment, the circle of runes went alight, and a third of the cavern became white, all sound vanishing just as the two that once were at the epicenter of it did.
There was a moment of silence at the realization of what happened in the crowd, the sheer shock, impossibility, and horrific implication quickly washing over the mind of all. If for different reasons.
"Sum git orknapped da Big Shiny Boss!" a Gretchin screeched, sending waves of panic across the already distressed Ork horde that exploded into chaos, the one physically and mentally able running with an evident lack of care for their brethren, formation or logic as they stampede on one another.
"Eölim!" Hrythyoc snapped back to reality and bellowed, his psychically amplified voice echoing far and wide as he shifted his spell, turning the runes into their opposite. He jumped and rode the river of blood as any and all Orkoid on his path were pulverized, thousands upon thousands dying in a mere instant.
Reaching his target, he jumped with his bloodshot eyes, scanning the blurry burnt mark on the ground, symbols of ancient nature marked everywhere, and others entirely unknown. Doing hundreds of checkup spells to know what happened, his features only continued to distort themselves into a visage stricken with grief, rage, and horror.
-What is happening, Flesh Mender Hrythyoc? Lady Eölim's presence has suddenly vanished! And an unknown vessel had been detected briefly entering and exiting the Materium!- a voice from the Cruiser reached his mind, and his emotions became known to all Aeldari.
-Lady Eölim has been taken by an unknown force knowledgeable in the Dark Arcane. This is a matter of utmost importance; we cannot act rashly in the blazing fire of our emotions.- Hrythyoc stated with cold fury, glaring at the cave ceiling as if his gaze pierced the kilometers of stone above him.
The Dark Arcane, a name that brought fear and curiosity, was all but misleading, as there was no inherent malice in them. Not that it was of importance. It was due to their origin. A forgotten God, no, a God that his brothers and sisters forcibly erased from history records. Or so it was until they destroyed and became distant and aloof, and then their lies of times beyond times slowly resurfaced.
The Original Sin, the Great Betrayer, the God of Darkness, the Dark Prince, his presence hidden by ignorance as he was everywhere. He was only known as the monster in bedtime stories for the young blood. His essence imprinted every aspect of the Aeldari Empire, be it in custom, runes, and sciences.
The one true God and this was a most heretical anomalous use of his blessing for not only on who the magic was done but also the mistakes within. But Hrythyoc couldn't act for the moment, the Empire was vast.
-Capture the greenskins to their very last number. They shall be thoroughly interrogated for any worthwhile information. After we shall collapse the star of this system and travel to the family estate.- he ordered and lifted the dozen tons of rock where the runic circle was.
At the same time, in the confines of a strange Cruiser, two people fell onto the other, one burly and green and the other thin and fair-skinned, the second reducing the impact of the former on the pale grey stone ground.
"-atakkkbleurggh!" The smaller one gurgled inelegantly after her forehead slammed on the ground. Her eyes widened as she looked around, taking in everything with confusion until they locked into something, someone.
The greener one was scratching his bald in utter confusion, nerve firing left and right without any sensible answer. The only sure thing was that what was under him was a comfortable mattress.
"Welcome, Ork and Aeldari." A tall figure wearing a mask in a robe said with regality in an animalistic voice of hiss, low humm, and short hypersonic screech, yet they understood.
"This is a spell shaped into existence by the magnanimous talons of our Divine Lord. It lets us speak freely. I'm known as Majun, the Archdeacon of the Khrave, devout servant of his Holiness, the Beast." Majun said with devotion as his two pairs of arms and singular pair of wings spread, revealing a golden medallion in the shape of a five-pointed star in a hoop.
*
My P@treon is up to chap 31 if you are interested.
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REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
The_Bip_Boop2003
The_Bip_Boop2003 Hello, the Aeldari enter the picture but the first true contact of civilisation is for latter. Also an idea on how they see Hoopa, quite an important plot point for latter. And the worship he felt isn't from the type of Aeldari seen here.
Bye-bye!
Capítulo 30: 30. Prisoners on Yuggoth
"What is the meaning of this madness?! I request a hearing with your Master, Mon'Keigh! Let me free, and your punishment shall be light!" Eölim demanded, her pale skin reddened by her anger as she was forced to follow the one that called itself Majun.
But that was only a facade; internally, she was beginning to feel her anxiety rapidly turn to fear and soon terror. Though not truly at the potential of death, that much was nearly impossible, and the circumstances didn't bode for such a thing.
It was irrational. She never succumbed to physical death, and that was likely why she felt this way. It was a known fact that Aeldari had a presumption about such an event. At least, that was what she reasoned from her knowledge.
'How can I not use my gift?!' She tried her hardest to grasp the power of her soul and even the Sea of Souls, yet it failed each time as if a wall of highly viscous liquid stopped her, and she was trying to grasp water. And when she succeeded, everything was absorbed by the pale grey stone, making the wall, ground, and ceiling.
She couldn't communicate with anyone, not even Hrythyoc. She was completely cut off and unable to use the lowest level of telepathy. Something that didn't fail to anger her to no end.
Something else that didn't fail to do this was her weapons. Similarly, they couldn't function either, as they depended on her psychic reactiveness and demanded her to power them. The only thing she had was her armor. There was a problem: it was an armor. More precisely, one focused on ornamentation.
One of magnificent craftsmanship and provider of excellent defense, but that scantily did go beyond that. There was mobility and a few other features like a portable palace, but that would not help in an unknown vessel floating in a space out of Aeldari's reach.
If it weren't the case, she knew she would have already been freed. And that by itself entailed far more than she liked to admit.
She only took what was necessary, and how could she have predicted anything else? Her sudden kidnapping was undoubtedly not counted, more so considering she shouldn't be able to be teleported against her will.
Still…
"Respond to your better, undignified abomination!" She pressed on, walking in front of the tall, winged alien whose gaze barely shifted to her, his golden mask in the shape of a grinning horned beast doing little for her to read his emotions. A mask that the Ork had recognized, but his babble made little to no sense, and their values of even higher inferiority.
"Yeah! Answer da questions af da cheatin' panzee tall baty git!" Kurgal warped in a blue rope floating in the air, concurred with the Aeldari. His current state of his own doing, but he didn't complain more than that; he liked having the high ground, and he could nap.
Archdeacon Majun stopped moving, his robe billowing to an unknown wind as he observed his audience of two. He clutched the pentacle softly, bathing himself in its calming divinity before he breathed out.
Both Ork and Aeldari were exceedingly lucky that it was him and not any other Khrave escorting them or truly anyone else with a lick of common sense. He was in his position not only out of his faith and personal power but out of his restraints and strength of will.
A strength of will that could fight against the corrupting whispers of the most insidious of Dark Gods but was slowly breaking apart in the face of her, a mere spoiled little girl.
At this very moment, his every instinct screamed to tear both apart, but he didn't do so. Their constant insolence and stupidity drove one to the brink of rage and beyond.
But he was above, and so he answered calmly and reasonably.
"The answers will arrive in due time. Be patient, little morsels." He said with a dark chuckle, the last part sending shivers down both prisoners' spines at the implications.
"But what I can reveal at the moment shall be enough explanation to satisfy your curiosity. We have come upon the edict of our Lord to collect a peculiar item, an extraordinary item you do not understand." He snapped two clawed fingers, and the wave of telekinesis tore off the tusk of Kurgal with the shining object on it.
The response was immediate and violent, even by Ork's abysmal to non-existent standard on that subject they mastered so well.
"No! Gimme back me shiny ring and da pretty voice! Giv' it back! Giv' it back! Its min-" Kurgal made his disaccord with his actions in much the same way a child merged with someone addicted to illicit substances would, but Majun silenced him with a flip of the wrist.
Around the Ork head, a sphere of glyph manifested, cutting all sound out of the hysterical greenskin.
This led to a peculiar sight: Kargul looked desperately at what was taken from him. Eölim was shocked, not a new sensation in the last hour, but this scene… It wasn't normal Ork behavior, and even in the abnormal one, this was an outlier by a large margin.
There was a kind of maniacal madness in those dull, beady eyes of his that felt akin to Daemonic possession, but it was different; it was more yet less. It appeared more like extreme withdrawal, but it was too fast for it to happen, considering his weight and size.
"I wanted to put it on…" She whispered to herself with horror. It was a cursed artifact or something with which only a specific wearer had the right to wear it.
"That would have been unfortunate indeed, depending on what our Lord desired of you. But that I cannot say. His grand vision eludes me." Majun said uncaringly, "Nonetheless, it would have made your presence here a certainty; you are here for the unique reason of your rashness. You have entered the transponder circle of your own volition. Your initial presence has forced us to adapt and act fast, but your mischance and actions are not out of our volition."
"We required the Ork only to put into simple words. You were at the wrong place at the wrong time, or was it? I do not know. I'm but a humble follower of the Beast of the Dawn." He added cryptically, and that was enough even for the scarred Aeldari to speak up. Fear couldn't keep at bay her aggravation.
"Then why do you refuse to grant me freedom at once!? Do you desire total destruction from this affront? I'm Eölim, Heir of the All-Arith Family of the purest and most noble bloodlines! Do you even begin to understand your current situation? You have your pretty toy, Mon'Keigh. Why garner more reason for your coming annihilation!" Eölim demanded with a snarl, and Majun's wings twitched at loudness before folding below his robe.
"I do. The Aeldari Empire is mighty and beyond my grasp of understanding, but not for our Lord. The risks and consequences of what is done do not evade us, however. But I will not free you, not at the moment. You have become an opportunity. And opportunities are fate to be taken for our great and eternal path." The Archdeacon said cooly, irritation seeping through his hissing voice.
He had enough of this infernal babbling and snapped his finger, creating a silencing magic bubble around the arrogant toddler.
A toddler whose tantrum was now silenced to only angry, muffled thumping and limbs flailing. At some point, enough was enough, and her treatment compared to the Ork Boss was that of royalty.
-My favorite little bat, you seem fairly disappointed. Pray to tell, would you confide to my ears what is on your mind?- a voice Majun was all too familiar and enthralled with reached his mind, and he greeted it with open arms.
-Yes, Lord Hoopa… How can such an ascended species graced by such wisdom and blessed with an unfathomable understanding of the Universe act in such undesirable ways?- He genuinely asked, as he had seen what was done to the Orks before the capture of Kurgal and Eölim.
It wasn't the extermination of a potential threat or any kind of regular harvest. A certain level of violence and pain came with everything; it was in the nature of the Universe, but here, just from a little glimpse, it was excessive to the extreme that, if not for the realness of the situation, would be comical.
The answers came fast, exceptionally so, in fact, and it was one word that seemingly explained everything.
-Boredom.-
-Bor-boredom? But… It doesn't make sense! They are blessed with the divine guidance of your brothers and sisters! It shouldn't be!- The old Khrave clamored, incomprehension etched on his face behind his mask.
His psychic power escaped his grasp briefly, making his muted prisoners freeze in abject horror at the sudden pressure wave.
For one, it was the strongest he had ever felt, but it paled in sheer terror compared to the voice of the dark-horned monster, and this bat man was certainly, from what was seen, a mere git of this monster. He wasn't the cleverest, but this was evident with the mask.
For the other, it wasn't the strongest psyker she met, but it was at a level that her existence could be erased from flesh to the deepest layer of her soul. Powerful for her age, she may be, she wasn't past the infancy of her first incarnation.
-Indeed, it does not follow logic, Majun,- Hoopa agreed to his confused and infuriated follower, genuine worry in his voice appearing and disappearing just as fast.- That is no behavior I would have accepted. Neither would my brethren, barring Khaine and potentially his Consort, for one only cares for violence, and the other is elusive to me. This is not normal.-
-Though we cannot draw any finite and constructive conclusions from such a small sample. One group of Aeldari is not their entire species, and I hope you understand that you cannot punish the many for the few.- Hoopa finished, the hypocrisy thick in those words only he understood but didn't feel guilt over.
The genocide of the Old Ones only brought the Archdjinni of the Rings immense satisfaction, a fact he acknowledged fully. The little humanity in him left wasn't used on those hateful frogs. It was one of them who took it away to begin with.
-My most sincere apology for my unsightly outburst, and I offer you my deepest gratitude for this great wisdom, my Lord.- Majun said with reverence as the conversation with his God came to an end, his mind now at peace.
And so the rest of the journey to Yuggoth passed in the blink of an eye as the small Khrave fleet skidded at the edge of the Warp and Labyrinth Dimension with the occasional dimensional shift to Realspace until they reached a certain location.
A stellar black hole at the center of the Milky Way, but that was only for the ignorant of what this place was—one of the anchors and gateway to the Dark Cradle. An entry to the hidden dimension, the protective realm of the Khrave, and to enter or exit it, the authorization of Hoopa was an obligate key.
But as the fleet entered the artificial realm, they didn't stop. It was not their final destination, merely for this instance, used as a hub where the beginning of a system of portals to encompass the galaxy was being built. And it was through the first of the Golden Gate that they arrived to end their travel, the lost planet orbiting in the Crystal Labyrinth.
This time, the Changer of Ways was wholly powerless and unable to affect the tiniest of their actions, a fact that was most infuriating and joyful for the Dark God of all contradictions. A veil of darkness protected the People of the Dawn from his direct machinations, for their fate was not to be in his grasp.
"Observe, lay your unworthy eyes before the homeworld of the Great Enslavers, the most ancient and mysterious world but one lost to time and war," Majun said grandly, beating his tattered wings lazily as he hovered down.
Behind him, held in the grasp of his telekinesis, were Eölim and Krugal, both wearing strange manacles and other restraints. Nothing more than preemptive measures if either tried something mentally debatable, notably for the Aeldari.
But in the following moment, the Ork was taken by another group of Khrave, his fate unknown to Eölim as she was beckoned to follow Majun. But she saw the gaze of all; she had been put in isolation, and her contact with those infernal abominations had been limited to the Archdeacon, but the way she was looked at was nothing else than of pure wild hunger and desire for destruction. Yet it was all kept at bay.
The Khraves disappeared as they began to walk. Each step that they took was a different biome, a coral reef, a mountain chain, an ancient forest, a dark bog, a verdant plain, and more as if countless places throughout time were strewn together.
And so the three of them were accompanied by hundreds of Khrave of all professions. Passing mountains, ancient forest, fairylike bog, and more in instants as all biomes existed in one instance, yet through different time streams, they teleported to Dylath-Leen.
Though their, or Majun objective for coming here was far from purifying the insidious corruption of the Warp upon flesh, mind, and soul.
Entering a chamber of many arcane symbols, Aeldari and Khrave gazed at an ornate chair of a black material darker than the space itself. It was the Cathedra of Mi-go, named after its Great Old One creator and its first user before his ultimate demise. Demise that came on its first use, the time necessary to turn it on was too long, and it was a time critical for his survival, giving it also the name of Sarcophagus of Mi-go.
It was a relic of old used to purify, unravel, and operate the infected Old Ones' victim to the extinct psychic predatory species known as the Krell. Mi-go had died due to such an affliction and a lack of time to finish this project.
And to this day, the soul parasites starving descendants, having fled through the abandoned prison of the Old Ones, now roamed the waves of the Warp, ready and waiting to feast on mortals and Neverborn alike.
Today, this piece of technology is to be used for another purpose.
"Sit." Majun ordered, and Eölim hesitated for a second that felt like an eternity, only to be broken by a sharp question, "Or would you prefer that I make you do so, little morsel? The choice is yours to make."
She obeyed, anger and indignation written all over her features as she hesitantly sat on the ancient healing artifact. It shifted akin to a liquid, embracing her body through the armor, entering in contact with her flesh, and locking her in place from head to toe; the chair stopped her from moving.
The anger turned to panic and dread, but it was only the beginning as around her head, a crown of branch-like extension grew, and then a wave of immense fatigue washed over her psyche. Her psychic gift returned as the Palestone restraints were absorbed, but this hint of hope at her untethered strength was soon crushed.
Her new restraint remained unfaltering, and her power was used against nullifying in harmonious symphony her desperate last effort before darkness claimed her and she fell into a profound slumber. The Cathedra of Mi-go could restrain Old Ones, less be mentioned of weaker species.
"I depart to R'lyeh, brother, sisters," Majun informed the three Khrave that had teleported in, his tone warm and comforting in total dissonance to the tone from earlier.
"You may begin the soul unraveling and its recording, but be aware, she is not to be harmed in any way. If such things befell her, our Lord will come to know, and heavy punishment awaits you in retribution." He warned, grandfatherly warmth and cold, unfeeling threat mixing as the three nodded.
Then he walked out. The ring was to be delivered; his Lord had mysterious plans for it, and his presence was paramount.
*
*
My P@treon is up to chap 39 if you are interested.
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The_Bip_Boop2003
The_Bip_Boop2003
Hello, a bit of an inter dialog and the understanding of the depravity of the Aeldari for Hoopa and its wider impact, remember belief is extremely important in 40k and the followers fully impact their deities from power to behavior.
Bye-bye!
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