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59. Conclusion of Conflict
🕑 Added 2024-10-31 19:57:21 +0000 UTCThe Fall had happened.
It was an undeniable truth.
Every creature's bearing, even a figment of a soul, had sensed it, a deep sense of dread, existential revulsion, and attraction rippling across the Milky Way from its epicenter with little to nothing warding it.
The Aeldari were the most touched, even from the impenetrable fortress that was the Dark Cradle. Panic was a word that would be shameful to use in this context; the scale was of far too important proportions for that, and the Aeldari were scarcely the only ones.
The Khraves were second and quickly followed by every race with the sole exception of the Necron, for they lacked all to perceive it, for now… it was temporary—their state of not life and not death. There had been many breakthroughs in giving the soulless automatons what had been robbed.
Regardless, the Archdjinni of the Rings had been wise in his decision and the immediate divine edict of absolute retreat across the three dimensions of the Warp, Realspace, and the in-between that was the Webway. One sentence of perfect foresight and the Ark of Life was saved from a horrific fate—quite the understatement.
Unlike what happened to the Aeldari Empire, to the chagrin of none but the Merciful Mother, her boundless love was for all her children, unworthy and blind to it as they may be. Their demise was the only facet of their existence that was valuable.
Images and, nevertheless, video recordings were highly restricted in direct relation to their inherent memetic existence and the sheer madness that was plastered on them. The danger, as well, was to invite what shouldn't be asked.
The Five Pillars were wardens against the Chaos Gods, each negating their ideology on a fundamental level, but it changed little when power came into play. It always is; no matter your dreams, ambitions, cleverness, faith, willpower, and exploits, power plays a more important role, period. Any case that might appear to prove the contrary was fabricated, the show of trickery or bias.
It was unfair, but that was the reality, and corruption was rarely a matter of freedom alone. Cheating was the norm, and any outliers who didn't were devoured in quick order.
It wasn't a time of grief. However, quite the contrary, this oh-so-feared cosmic event where the Gods and Goddesses themselves died and were born neutered, and for that, it was a time for festivity. Naïve, it was what it was; be that as it may, it wasn't false, and they had won without having to act.
There wasn't a greatest victory but for your enemies to jump off the cliff unassisted.
Their foes had willingly destroyed themselves in the most shameful and pathetic display of depravity that had ever been, and that ever will be. It was laughable, the greatest joke they ever could orchestrate, and a joke was all it was.
By all means, whatever the fallen Aeldari believed was a lie or a distorted truth to the point it wasn't different. Or it was a play on words, what was their grander experience in life but its permanent end otherwise adequately dubbed the darkest moment as death. Ultimately, insane creatures devoid of any rationality were hard to understand from a rational lens.
It was the wrong tool to use.
So very akin to Hoopa from an outsider's perspective, but it wasn't the case. He had been one of the targets, a piece on the board, or was it? The players were arrogant and blind to the shadow in front of their eyes, and the price to pay for their erroneous ways would be very, very steep.
“T’was a very entertaining spectacle!” A strange being composed of a porcelain mask with the right side smiling and the left side crying and a body made of a tacky colorful cloak–Cegorach–exclaimed loudly in his boisterous tone.
In front of him was the holographic image of a creature of two visages screaming and moaning as its two parts fought one another in a cataclysmic feud. This was the Dark King, She-Who-Thirst, and his brother, Hoopa, the Archdjinni of the Rings. All the same, yet completely alien, it was jarringly natural in a way that could only be called viscerally wrong.
This image was, as such, kept sealed for the time being. Mortals could break at the sight of it when it could disturb Gods. Though representations were possible if done well, never could they express the level of violation against all that was this scene of corruption oozed even across the holoscreens.
It was unnatural and should under no circumstances exist.
“Uncle won…” Lileath breathed in relief, watching at the beam that absorbed all light and thoroughly vaporized everything in its path, leaving behind the horrifically wounded Aeldari God of Magic.
The battlefield was now void of anything, the gargantuan psychic warpstorm seemingly stiling as if it understood how insignificant it truly was in the face of entropy. It was sudden and impossible to have foreseen from one instant, divine beings, and monsters fighting in an epic brawl of magic and sword of proportion equaled only to a mildly intense battle of the War in Heaven to another filled with nothing.
It was the blink of an eye, but it wasn't to be shocked at. The most destructive weapons of the far-gone Old Ones had been put to use. Hoopa's survival was only plausible by his intimate connection to the inner workings of those machines of mass destruction.
“I wouldn't say so, my favorite niece~! Hehe! I can agree that he succeeded quite well in his suicidal plan. I'm proud of him! Per usual, he freed himself and went straight to nearly jailing himself again. It's as if he murdered Death.” The Laughing God chuckled, reappearing in front of the winged goddess while wiggling a finger from left to right, “It's a game won with patience, my dear, and he got a nasty virus injected in him. A beautiful tumor, a lusty cancer planted right in his body. It was the goal all along, or that's what I believe. When one can out-cheat me, I can't be certain.”
“Brother, stop.” Isha said sternly, shutting down the spinning buffoon's inane giggles before focusing on the Maiden, “My child, it's not entirely inaccurate… the Fall had been avoided, the prophecy brought down from grace. However, crying victory now is foolish, I fear. The Dark King is wounded; he may have purged himself, but the stain remains. You must feel it?”
It was the truth. Lileath could detect it. While degrees magnitude weaker above the realm of numbers that mortals could fathom, it was still here. A weak but constant pressure on her soul signifying that not all was gone, an exponentially diminished beast hungering for her blood and viscera. A terrifying prospect if left forgotten.
“Khaine is free and certainly not wanting to be diplomatic. I presume Asuryan and Vaul are, too, Vaul above all else. It depends on Morai-Heg, and we know we can't depend on predicting her actions. We must avoid war, that's evident, but how, I'm uncertain.” Kurnous broke his silence and earned nods and hums of agreement.
“Why not ask our King?” The Great Harlequin proposed, and as it was on cue, a large golden ring filled with constellations on an abyssal tapestry their King hovered down.
The two Goddess gasped at the sight, and the God of the Hunt didn't fare any better, jumping back his polearm growing from the vines and hugging his arms.
In front of them stood Hoopa. Hundreds of chains held his body tightly, some digging into his flesh to mimic a semblance of health—to keep him from breaking down. His thick tar-like blood, darker than any starless night, dripped from open wounds as bones, muscles, tissue, and organs were bare to observe from his chest to his neck.
It wasn't the only blood and biological matter on his form. The Archdjinni of the Rings was covered in glittering scarlet, crimson blood accompanied by more solid objects, shredded clothing, pieces of pallid skin, matted hair of every color and texture, bone fragments, and much more.
A butchery happened, and the butcher stood before the four of them with a demented, if relaxed grin of hundreds of fangs with no different body pieces within and a serrated longer than it strictly needed to be methodically cleaning them.
The only sound in the room of crystalline wraithbone was from six Aeldari–their whimpers, struggle, and muffled cries–each held securely in the hands of Hoopa, their eyes speaking of untold horror, of destruction and restoration of the minds in a way that entire libraries would fail to transcribe. The six had been toyed with, yet they weren't empty playthings–aware and fully cognizant playthings–the targets of godly anger and vengeful retribution.
Cegorach was the first to snap back into focus, his head twisting from up to down as he bounced in front of his brother, studying both the God of Darkness and his prizes with wide, sparkling eyes.
“OOH!” He dramatically declared, “The rest of the Dark Muses set~! Were they rare? You must have opened a LOT of packets to get them! I'm jealous… Can I see them?”
Hoopa snorted in amusement, and the tension popped like a balloon, “You can play with them to your heart's content and know they are responsible for the direction the Empire followed.”
Without further word, the Laughing God bowed deeply, his curved nose touching the metallic ground, and with a flourish, six cards appeared in his left hand. Their design was elegant and whimsical, with golden braided edges. Their back was a dark blue back with various random symbols. After a sleight of hand, the Aeldari vanished, absorbed by the cards.
‘Ohohoh! I'm going to have so much fun! I'm going to make them float down with me!’ He giggled maniacally in his head, but a shiver of existential dread passed through his non-existent spine as purple eyes with gold rings in their middles flashed over him.
The same sensation was on everyone; there was an undeniable hunger, but it was kept at bay. For now…
“Isha… Could you heal me?” Hoopa asked, even if it was more of an order as he stood straighter. With a snap of fingers, a dark flame came to life and turned to cinders the remnant of his massacre, giving view to the true extent of the damage done to him. It was worse than it first appeared.
The Aeldari Goddess of Life voicelessly advanced tentatively her visibly worried demeanor, resulting in an amused snort.
“Do not fret. I have control of my mind, mostly. I'm a bit quirkier… I already have an idea of how to take care of this precarious problem. I require your assistance as well. What has been done is more of a genetic disease than a cancer. It cannot simply be freely cut out.” The words left his fanged maw, Isha's hand was glowing a teal green, and Hoopa was instantly soothed as his flesh squirmed, knitting itself together.
“What manner of blades Morai-Heg made?!” She was left shocked, appalled even by the depth of the injuries. She knew of the danger the Widowmaker, the god-slaying blade of the Bloody-Handed God, possessed.
But this… from the feedback of her senses, it was primarily created to destroy a singular target, Hoopa. Full recovery would be simple enough, but that was because she was here and had adequate equipment. He was dying, falling apart in the literal sense.
Isha knew it was the Crone responsible. A mere glance was enough for an entity of her station to decipher the web of connections. Particularly when it came to the Pantheon, and the three-headed Goddess hadn't tried to hide it.
“The stabby and sharp kind.” Cegorach piped in unhelpfully, and it wasn't a lie. He puffed his chest in pride at that notion.
“Thank you, brother, for enlightening your lessers of mind… I couldn't tell when I had one passing through my ribcage and poking from both sides.” Hoopa said sarcastically, shaking his head with a smile. This one was relatively normal and sent a ripple of calm to his small audience, “She used her essence as prime material and with the anvil fetishist who knew what they could do. Shoving a magnetar star down my throat would feel better than those swords.”
“I doubt you would pass up the opportunity to do that, Hoopa. You likely wouldn't hate it as you are; no shame in that.” Cegorach doubled down, but then his tone shifted to something sharper, serious, “Have you plans regarding our freed brethren? The Dark Cradle, from your words, wouldn't prove impossible to pierce. If not through brute force, then ingenuity.”
“Quite violence at a base level isn't vital in their working. I can safely assume Morai-Heg would go along. She must see winning is unfeasible. Vaul is Khaine's slave in body and mind, but his Consort can control him, and the two brutes are easy to read. Asuryan is the one I can't predict with certainty. Regardless, they are in the Labyrinthine Dimension, and unless they wish to collapse a large fraction of it, they won't get out. Evidently, I give a meager amount of time before Khaine clutches his pearls and breaks free, screaming about roughly impaling me on his sword.” The horned God explained, sighing in contentment as the blissfulness of health replaced the pain.
“Heh, impaled.” Cegorach held back a chuckle, but the other male was unimpressed by the last part. It was irking how little respect the Dark King held toward his position, but that was the path Kurnous was threading on, and there wasn't a way back.
If he could be affected by such things, then everything was well. Only in good times do minor inconveniences become glaring. A new page of history was turning for the better. It might be a hasty conclusion, but the largest hurdle had passed, and now they had to trust and obey their new Godking, for they had pledged their eternal loyalty to him—in life and death.
*
Hello, so this Fanfic hasn't much chapter left before it ends. It's pretty much all warped with some plot points to focus on, but overall, it's done. I don't want to drag infinitely, max five chapters more. That means I will begin posting another Fanfic I have been writing for some time soon enough.
Bye-bye!
Comments
Jaylon Cain
Unlike the age of sigmar.... I don't know what type of weed was GW was smoking after making that. 😑😒
Jaylon Cain
Nice a warhammer 40k story that actually has a good ending. 👍
Arcanum
Tftc!
TITOO
2 legged but nothing that's remotely human.
Asura
Non human, cool I wonder tho will be 2 legged or 4 legged?
TITOO
It's around the largest MMO and it will be a non-human.
Asura
Oh I wonder what new fanfic you have.🙃 Thanks for the chapter’s 👋
