#webway portals

[ahrimansstuff]

So, I've just finished listening to The Ashes of Prospero and one of the things that surprised me was how the members of the Space Wolves 13th Great Company seemed to show regret at their actions on Prospero after they realized that Horus gave them the order to destroy Prospero and the Thousand Sons legion.

I know that the Emperor had originally ordered Russ to simply bring Magnus back to Terra and that it was Horus who changed the order to destroy the Thousand Sons, but I had thought that the Space Wolves dispised the Thousand Sons enough to not care about whether they exterminated them all or not or who the order came from, but this does not seem to be the case. Bulveye, the 13th Great Company leader even says that Thousand Sons could've been an ally to the loyalists during the Horus Heresy if it were not for Horus' orders.

[themorrignasystem]

SILVA TENEBRIS LOREDUMP

(MAC'S FORGEWORLD)

Silvra Tenebris was a tomb world of the Szaregon dynasty. It was awoken during the early age of the imperium, slowly awakening over time. The awakening quicking during the era indomitus when explorators of the adeptus mechanicus invaded the planet. Once on the planet, the mechanicus forces invaded and scoured the planet. During their invasion of the planet, the mechanicus forces had a rebellion led by a known heratek. During this rebellion, Techpriest scavola sided with the heratek rebellion and killed Fuastinius in on one combat. Due to the fallen leader, the mechanicus forces suffered a skishm, with Lector-Dogmatis Videx dumping all the mechanicus forces on the planet and leaving, thus leaving the new leader Scavola and the remaining forces, which includes Xenobiologis Tiresus, Subdomina Khepra, Quartermaster Rho, Prime-Hermeticon Captrix, and Magos Dominus Reditus. The focres now lead by Scavola managed to establish an alliance with the Necrons of the tombworld. 

They eventually dubbed themselves “The Court of the cog”, with Lord Szaregon and Lady Tech-aquisitor scavola as its leaders, using the mechanicus leaders to supplement the court members that fell during the original invasion. At some point, during interrogations with a void dragon C’tan shard, the shard spoke of an accession beyond flesh, even beyond Magos Dominus Reditus’s ascension. One techpriest, Madoc Fuego, decided to speak with the shard personally, and both disappeared for a long amount of time. After the period of time was done, a machine spirit calling itself Machina Furem emerged, showing a hybridization of the C’tan shard and the techpriest. The machine spirit however, also speaks of memories that was not Madoc Fuego’s, perhaps suggesting it is several techpriests and the C’tan shard. The machine spirit shown extreme interest in learning, so Szaregon and Scavola treated it as their child, and it learned all that the Court of the Cog could teach it. The machine spirit eventually figured out how to open temporary webway portals, and subsequently the Court of the Cog purged the world of the Flayed ones and the Destoryers.

However, not all would be well, as eventually  Lector-Dogmatis Videx returned with a full fleet to perform an Exterminautus on the Heratekinca of the World. The court of the cog used hybrid Necron-Mechanicus tech to create a defense system that woud assult ships with bolts of Guass, and trace the beams with Necrodermis, thus ensaring and webbing the ship. The ships were then siphoned of motive force, thus stunning them. This meant that the exterminuatus fleet were ensared and pulled onto the planet, wrecking them. Lector-Dogmatis Videx’s forces were attacked and subsequntly defeated. Lector-Dogmatis Videx was captured and brought before Lord Szaregon and Lady Scavola. They decided to punish Lector-Dogmatis Videx by stripping him of his augmentics and wiring him into a vox system. 

Some time after, a large shard of the C’tan Maldogoth emerged, and began a schism in the Court of the Cog, thus starting the War for tenebris. During the War for tenebris, forces lead by Maldrogoth began to use necron biotransferanse technology to capture and convert forces of the court of the cog to his side. Maldrogoth eventually seized the artefact of the Court of the Cog, but in a last ditch effort, the court of the cog split the artefact into 8 shards. Madrogoth seized 4 shards, and began to create a large device dubbed Maldrogoth’s Grasp, emplaced at the north pole of the planet, and connected to the core of the planet. Maldrogoth’s forces began to work on the tombs of the planet, carving strange pathways into the planet, and using scarabs and tomb spiders to carve sections of the tomb. When the carving was done, Maldrogoth used Maldrogoth’s Grasp to ensnare the star of the system, and drag it into the planet, and the purpose of Maldrogoth’s wrath was revealed; the star was ensared and forced into the planet’s core, desabilizing the planet, and the carved sections shifted, enlarging the planet and allowing every tomb to be powered by the star. The maldrogoth shard reveled in this, as it meant that it could use the newfound power to power Maldrogoth’s grasp even more. With more modifications, Maldrogoth’s grasp became even more powerful, allowing it to breech the webway and the warp, ensnaring all neabry ships and pulling them onto the surface of the planet, where tehy are scrapped for technology. The maldrogoth shard was distracted enough during the modifactations to Maldrogoth’s grasp that Prime-Hermeticon Captrix was able to assiante it by pushing it into the star core if the planet, however due to the nature of the C’tan shard, this did not kill it, but instead made it comatose. 

In current times, the Court of the cog are mostly defeated, lying hidden in inactive tomb sections, hoping that machina furem coud organize an effort to purge Maldrogoth’s forces. 

Due to the horrid atomosphere generating constant storms, and the high gravity of the enslaved star, hover technology doesnt work on Silvra tenebris, thus the mechanicus of the forge world adopted achhranid like patterns to their bodies and vehicles. It is not suggested to fly on Silvra tenebris, as the constant storms and dense atmosphere make flying difficult and dangerous. Due to the reshaping of the planet, large pillars of blackstone emerged along the coastlines and beaches of silvra tenebris, much akin to basalt pillars. 

Over the years, many factions have come to or been grounded on silva tenebris, making it a constant battleground. It is of interest to those who know about, as it holds many secrets and technologies on it. 

The factions under Machina furem regularly come to the planet to save the planet, but so far it has been to no avail. The factions include the Mechancus cult of the Machinasiah, which believe machina furem to be the omnisaih, the Adeptus soroitus cult of the Order of the Blessed cog, which are akin to the Machinasiah cult but also are mostly fanatical electropreists, using both augments of electropreists and arcoflagelants to create electrified zealots. The chaos cult of The Lord of Technology, which worship the warp nature of Machina furem. The Tau cult of Fio’Tek-O, which have learned the lies of the Etherals and decided to side with Fio’Tek-O. 

Live doc link:

This is the setting for my Warhammer 40k DnD 5e campaign!

[askrobouteguilliman40k]

Finished reading, Da Big Dakka.

Mike Brooks does it again, not only giving us amusing green skins, but interesting Drukhari. We see an Archons plan to cause some chaos to grab control of one of Crommargga's port city's quickly spiral our of control as she failed to realise just how chaotic Orks are.

Orks over riding a webway portal to get around, blatant missue of teleportation tech everywhere re... What else? Oh yes, two Drukhari falling in love... And being fucking confused by it.

And a trans Succubus!

This book has a lot to offer and is a good continuation of Ufthak's story.

Now to wait for Mike Brooks to release his Lilith book.

[findingmyrib]

Warhammer 40k conspiracy theory

The Emperor was interred in the Golden Throne not to prevent his death, but to inhibit his recovery, and all would be well if they deployed the Grey Knights to guard the webway portal and notified the Imperial Navy and shipping services to stay in port for a couple days while the Emperor recovered in bed. The question, then, becomes who is the head of the conspiracy. Rogal Dorn is the likely suspect. He's likely to have known more than most how the Throne really worked, and the whole breaking up legions to prevent one man from being able to cause as much damage as Horus did? Dorn was against that.

[chronicle-of-isha]

Chapter 18: Crossroad

Aeldari! The battle is lost! Our kin have fled the skies and the Webway is closed to us. We have nowhere to flee and no hope of fighting our way through the eternal enemy.

Fill your hearts with curses! Curse those who leave us here to die! Curse those who sent us here to fight on this barren world! Let your bitterness fill your voice until it becomes the banshee howl! Let the sorrow of knowing you will never see your home, or travel through the immaterium ever again fill all the spaces in your soul!

Aeldari! Fight! Fight and die! Fight for there is nothing else left to do! Die for that is what they made us for!

Let our screams pierce the veil and let our hate burn the stars! Let our might shine bright in this last moment, for we shall never shine again!

Cry out at the injustice we are made to bear! Cry out at the arrogance of our enemies and what their overreaching folly has unleashed upon us all! Scream and cry, for our pain and sorrow is what our masters want!

You will never see your children! You will never see your parents! You will see your brothers and sister, for they stand beside you just as doomed as you are!

We shall never wake in another body with the memories we scrounged and scraped and scavenged for thousands of years! All you have is now lost!

So hate! Hate and rage! Curse and wail! Fill your heart with sorrow and scream at what has been forced upon us!

This is our end! There is no future! There is no hope! Die with despair on your lips and tears in your eyes! Die cursing our gods and our kin! Die cursing our creators and our slavers! Die cursing the parents who brought us into this world of suffering and strife!

They have come! Fight or flee, it makes no difference now! Die in pain! Die alone! Die with those beside you knowing that they will be tortured just as you will be for the enemy has no mercy!

Curse! Rage! Scream! Hate! Cry, and suffer! This is our fate! This is what we were born for and what we were given everything to do!

- Autarch Alarathis 48,241,253 BC

In memory of all the souls who returned to our divine mother so new life may bless the lands where our blood has been spilled.

—----------------------------------------

The Emperor returned to the secondary bridge of the Bucephelus accompanied by the crackle of psychic energy as the Warp portal closed behind it. Isha was nowhere to be seen, but the presence of the Aeldari Goddess could be felt in the dark room where it had first sung its distracting song.

The Emperor gave Isha a cursory glance with Warp sight before marching towards the captain's chair where Lysander was seated.

Everything had progressed, mostly, according to schedule.

The readings of the Eye of Terror were in the range Malcador and the others had calculated. Soon, the Warp would become calmer for several hundred years, meaning the opportunity for humanity's re-expansionism was approaching.

The remains of several Aeldari 'Soul-engines' had been recovered. Stocks of psychic crystals, Wraithbone, and blackstone had been pillaged and looted from abandoned Aeldari colonies, as well as torn from both the dead and living Psychomatons they found. All of these materials, incapable of being created by humanity, would be important in creating the psychic beacon necessary for the crusade that would take place after the reclamation of the Sol system.

Most importantly, the gene-tech that was left behind on many of the old worlds of the federation of man had been recovered safely. Almost all of the reagents, enzymes, and catalysts the Emperor had gathered during the final days of Old Night had been used up in creating the leaders and weapons that would bind humanity together. The soldiers that would be needed for them to maintain their rule would require far more.

They would be self-sufficient and capable of creating more of themselves once sufficient numbers of the Progenoid glands of each legion were completed, but the initial investment was proving more expensive in terms of gene-tech than the Emperor would have liked.

'The Selenar gene-cults will regret spurning me.' The Emperor muttered internally.

It would take another 40 or 50 years, but Terra's natural satellite, Luna, would be brought to heel. Careful preparations would be necessary for the invasion, for a single wayward bomb or lance blast could wipe out everything the Emperor wanted from them.

But, things were progressing on that front as well. The first proto-types of the 1st legion already walked with his Custodes upon Terra, gaining combat experience with their new bodies while slowly replacing the Thunder Warrior garrisons placed around the lands that had been unified into the Imperium.

Once the majority of Thunder Warriors were relieved of guard duty by the 1st legion, they would be gathered to break Mt. Ararat, the last fortress-complex of the lands of Urartu and gateway to the Ethnarchy.

When the conjoined bunkers and dugouts within the mountain were nothing but hollowed out ruins, the true changing of the guard could commence.

It was poetic in some sense that the monsters of the old world would be purged where all Abrahamic religions claimed the Ark of Noah beached itself after the great flood; the flood that wiped out all the sinful cities that incurred God's wrath.

Of course, that fictional myth was based on older legends, and the Truth of what happened was not whatever despotic messiah or ruler demanded his or her scribe write into holy scripture for their convenience.

The original story was very different when the Emperor sat upon the throne to his kingdom in ancient Mesopotamia.

The Emperor shook its head, reverting to the more distanced mindset it had instead of one of its more ancient personas. That period of history was a simpler time with allies that could be relied upon, a populace that was mostly obedient, and gods he could argue with.

Now, it was all that was left. No one else remained.

'Were they worth everything you gave them?'

The question asked in a sad voice echoed in the Emperor's mind.

He couldn't answer that question back then, and it wasn't sure of the answer now.

The only thing the Emperor did know was that there was only the path of progress, the sacrifices necessary to move forwards, and the eternal legend all humans worked to be a part of.

That path would someday lead to humanity's future and salvation.

The Emperor could still see that future, symbolized as a distant island floating on an ocean as black as night. There was no swimming in these waters, for beneath the rippling black ocean underneath the starless sky lay abyssal monsters of every kind. The only way to reach the island was to wade across the narrow sandbar hidden beneath the treacherous waves.

White foam and dark waters obscured sharp coral and slippery rocks embedded in the path that would cut or trip the Emperor should they be stepped on. The Emperor would step over them where possible, but not all could be predicted or averted. Some would have to be trodden on, and the consequences would have to be beared.

Stepping on the coral pierced skin, drawing blood and leaving burning fragments within the muscle.

Stepping on the slippery stones would cause the Emperor to lose its footing, banging shins, knees, elbows, or even its jaw against other jagged rocks.

Every time that happened, the Emperor would have to drag itself up again and push forwards, for the Emperor could never stray from or linger upon this painful path.

The cold waters of the ocean continually sapped the Emperor's strength. Only by constantly moving would enough heat be generated to resist the chilling touch of the ocean.

And the abyssal monsters that swam beneath the waves were always watching and waiting for the Emperor to fall.

If the Emperor ever fell from the path, either due to losing its footing, or from weakness as its body lost even the strength to shiver from the freezing waters, they would drag it down into the depths of the ocean. There, in their natural habitat, the Emperor would be drowned and devoured; with all its screams silenced by the weight of the water and turned into muffled froth that would float up as small bubbles to the surface.

"My Lord…" Lysander called to the Emperor. "The Titan transports should arrive in another hour, and the survivors on the Xenos slave carriers have all been rescued. We can begin the journey to the Pluto Warp gate when they arrive, but we will need your assistance to mask the fleet's presence when traveling past the outer planets and Mars to avoid detection."

The Emperor was still behind Lysander, having emerged from the Warp on the raised platform of the command deck that held the holomap and captain's chair.

The Emperor closed its eyes, switching to a more amenable persona for the occasion.

This expedition had been tiresome, and the extra baggage in the form of the Aeldari 'Catumen' was aggravating.

"As a celebration for a job well done, I thought it would be a good timing for a speech." Lysander quipped as the Emperor stepped forwards.

"A speech?" The Emperor replied with a slight laugh. "I would think a toast would be necessary as well. No celebration is complete without a good drink."

"I thought the same thing, my Lord." Lysander's chuckle came from over the high backrest of the chair that obscured his head and back from the Emperor's vision. "I've given permission to the bridge crew of the Bucephelus and the General Staff of the other ships to break out the Amasec. One quarter of a glass for all of us at a job well done. The rest of the crew will get extra-rations and a glass of Amasec with the last meal of the day."

"Prepared as always eh?" The Emperor stepped forwards, past the armrest of the captain's chair, and turned towards Lysander. "Then I guess I have no choice but to give a spee-"

—----------------------------------------

As the Emperor turned towards Lysander, he saw his Lord's brown eyes widen and the slight smile he had on his face turned into a vicious scowl. In the next moment, every hair rose on Lysander's neck as his breath caught in his lungs. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw some of the bridge crew trip, falling to their knees, gasping for air as the psychic pressure of the Emperor suffused the entire bridge.

Then, the moment was gone, and Lysander sucked in mouthfuls of air like a half-drowned man as the rest of the bridge crew coughed and at least one vomited.

Lysander turned towards the Emperor only to see his Lord whip his head to the entrance of the bridge. At the same time, the pneumatic doors whooshed open just as one of the Custodes ran through it at full sprint.

The Custodes came to a stop before the Emperor and saluted, but the scowl on the Emperor's face only deepened as he inspected one of his personal bodyguards.

Golden sparks crackled from the Emperor's eyes which slowly looked up and down, left and right across the entirety of the bridge, as if he were looking through the very walls and into every corner of the massive starship.

"Lysander." The Emperor's tone was quiet and utterly devoid of all emotion. "Redirect all the Titan transports to the nearest Vengeance-class cruisers."

"My Lord?" Lysander asked, hoarsely.

The Emperor turned towards Lysandre, and he saw golden flames roaring inside the black pupils of his brown eyes. "Begin a full disembarkation of the Bucephelus to the battleships Artax and Chetak."

"A disembarkation, my Lord?" From the way the Emperor was acting, it sounded more like an evacuation order.

The only reply was a silent stare from the Emperor, and the emotionless look froze Lysander's blood in his veins.

No questions would be tolerated. No disobedience would be forgiven.

"As you will, my Lord." Lysander bowed, eager to break eye contact.

It was rare to see the Emperor so angered, but this was not the first time Lysander had seen his liege's fury. This was usually what happened when those who faced the Master of Mankind didn't accept what he said while he was smiling.

And Lysander had a good idea who the cause for his Lord's ire was.

'I had a feeling something was wrong with the Catumen…' Lysander thought to himself as he activated the ship-wide vox.

"All-hands. Proceed to your predesignated hangar bays and prepare for disembarkment. I repeat. All-hands. Proceed to the…"

Lysander repeated the message several more times as the bridge crew picked themselves up while a janitorial servo-skull removed the regurgitated contents of someone's stomach from the floor.

The Aeldari Catumen had been completely silent when it returned. Lysander had thought it would appear the slightest bit distressed after the battle with its people. Even the Emperor expressed a brooding frustrated form of sorrow, sometimes standing on the empty battlefields of Terra littered with bodies and staring off into the distance.

The Catumen, however, appeared utterly undisturbed, as if nothing had changed from when he first saw it on the bridge. It merely walked out the door without a single word, and wandered off into the ship under the watchful eye of one of the Custodes who followed closely behind her.

Lysander couldn't tell why the sight of it made him uncomfortable earlier, but he understood now after staring into the Emperor's face just now. It was the complete lack of emotion upon its beautiful face that had sent a small shiver down his spine.

Regardless, whatever was about to transpire was not going to happen immediately.

The Emperor had ordered for a disembarkation, not an evacuation. The former was an orderly transfer of people off the ship with shuttles and barges. The latter was a mad rush for every crewmate to the nearest escape pod to launch themselves into the void of space, for it would be safer there than within the ship.

Lysander finished repeating the order to disembark, and turned back towards the Emperor. His liege was glowering at a point at the edge of the room, slightly down and to the right. Gold sparks crackled periodically from his eyes, and Lysander shivered as he suddenly felt something look at him from the direction the Emperor was looking at.

The Catumen was there, beyond the walls and far below this deck looking back at the Emperor while the Emperor glowered at it. Lysander had been caught in its peripheral vision, yet even that briefest touch of the corner of its eyes caused goosebumps to form on Lysander's arms and neck.

"Bridge crew…" Lysander called out to the men and women who were on the level beneath him. Some were quivering, like newborn fawns. "We will head to our designated disembarkation point. Follow me." All of them followed him meekly, giving the Emperor a wide berth.

The Emperor turned as the last of the bridge crew passed him, and looked at the Custodes. Something unspoken passed between them, and the Custodes banged his spear against the floor of the ship once in affirmation before following the rest of the bridge crew through the door.

The walk through the Bucephelus's corridors was long and silent. Only their footsteps followed by the clank and clomp of the accompanying Custodes at the end of their group echoed around them.

Finally, they reached their assigned hangar bay with the shared shuttle for most of the crew on this section of the ship.

There was a crackle, and the Emperor appeared before them again out of a Warp portal next to the shuttles that would take them off the Bucephelus and to the battleships that remained at either side since the battle with the Xenos. His face was emotionless, but his eyes inspected each and every one of the crew boarding the shuttles as they passed him. Custodes followed many of the groups boarding the shuttles, entering with them and leaving the Emperor behind.

As Lysander locked himself into his seat with the restraining bars and harness of the shuttle, he sighed in both relief and exasperation.

Nothing ever went as planned, and he had left his best bottle of Amasec behind underneath his chair on the bridge.

—----------------------------------------

The Emperor watched the crew of the Bucephelus pass by. All of them were flickered between two states through the double vision of foresight.

Human faces and skin were occasionally replaced by ash, blood, and charcoaled flesh. Blackened human pâté after blackened human pâté passed by him, like conveyor belts carrying burnt hamburgers that had been stepped.

Even the Custodes were not spared. Their Golden armor was flattened and partially melted. Their spears were bent with blades shattered, and whatever remained of their reinforced flesh and bones had been incinerated and carbonified.

However, it was the Bucephelus itself that concerned the Emperor the most. The corridors were filled with volcanic rock, and the entire ship itself was twisted like a wet rag that had been rung out.

'Isha.' The Emperor thought, and looked down into the depths of the ship where the Aeldari Goddess stared back at him.

Somehow, Isha would be responsible for everything he saw before him.

There was no time point for the events in the Emperor's foresight, but instinct whispered that this was not an immediate event.

Isha had not moved during the disembarkation of the Bucephelus, merely returning the Emperor's gaze patiently, as if to say it was the Emperor's turn to make its move.

The Emperor cast its foresight out into the far future, attempting to see whether the island it saw was gone.

The island remained in sight, but it too was flickered between itself and another vision of the future.

Static crackled, replacing the island with a blurry image of granite black and burning orange walls closing in around the Emperor that gradually melted away into an elliptical bubble made of black and red crystal.

The Emperor was at a crossroad. Two futures lay in its path. One where all progressed as planned. The other was something it had never seen before, but meant certain doom.

"I should have known your species' pride wouldn't keep your head cowed for long." The Emperor muttered.

Narrowed eyes were the only response Isha gave.

The Emperor cast one last look throughout the ship, confirming every crewmember and Custodes had left, then opened a Warp portal to the dark room Isha waited in.

This battle found all those who followed the Emperor wanting, so just as the final battle between the Void Dragon and the Protector of Humanity had been fought between just the two of them, this fight between Isha and the Emperor would be theirs and theirs alone.

—----------------------------------------

There was a crackle, and a purple vortex swirled into existence growing larger and larger like the whirlpool that forms when opposing currents in the ocean meet. The Emperor stepped from the Warp, purple mist and clouds sticking to the golden armor like tufts of cotton candy before sizzling into nothingness as they dissipated into the materium.

"Is this your attempt at negotiating with me?" The Emperor asked sarcastically. The golden glow from its armor was the only other source of light besides the green glow that was centered around Isha in the dark room.

"In a sense, I suppose this is." The Aeldari goddess replied tartly. "Violence is the only language creatures such as you seem to understand."

"Then you have moved too late." The Emperor snorted. "You stood a better chance with your Psychomatons."

"I did not wish to slaughter your followers." Isha shrugged. "You are their protector. Any action against them means you must react. That is your purpose; especially if that action is taken by something from the immaterium."

"So, all of this is just a threat?" The Emperor questioned with one eyebrow raised.

"Are you so blind to how the future works, Mon-keigh?" Isha sighed while giving the Emperor a condescending look. "I fully intend to kill every human here and tear this ship from the sky. It is because I have the intention and the ability to do so that you see the double vision of foresight overlaid on top of each other. That was the only way you would ever force them to flee from this place. No mortal, no matter how enhanced, will survive what is to happen here."

"Then…" The Emperor's sword materialized in its right hand with a burst of flames. "I have no choice but to destroy you."

Isha merely shook her head, as if exasperated.

"You will have no choice in the future, but at this moment in the present you still do."

The slaughter of the humans had not yet happened even though it was foreseen. Therefore, the Emperor would have to act to prevent that slaughter. However, as they had not been murdered yet, Isha was still blameless for their deaths.

There was still room for discourse between the two deities.

But, the Emperor would still have to act against Isha, for it was the Protector of Humanity.

"Then, it makes no difference then." The Emperor said as it took a heavy step towards Isha. "This is a threat." Brown eyes met with silver ones as the two stared at each other. "What do you want?"

The death and destruction wrought by Isha would be costly. If there was a way to prevent it, the Emperor was willing to consider a degree of leniency. Although, any offer given would be made mostly to buy time to find an easier and better place to destroy Isha.

"I already have what I want." Isha replied, a slow smile growing on her face. "You, all alone here with me." The room shook as both of them released their psychic essences, filling the room to the brim with the invisible weight of their presence. "There is only one name for the path I proceed down. It is you who sees the crossroad that must choose which direction to go in order to end up in the same place."

The Emperor raised its taloned hand, palm pointed towards Isha in an open fist.

"Then I shall reach that place over your broken body and stolen mind."

Golden walls crackled into existence several meters from Isha before closing in on her to surround her as they did on the dead Necron pylon world.

Green winds suddenly rushed outwards from the goddess, snaking around each individual wall and shattering them from the side facing outwards, while brown gusts of hurricane force slammed into the Emperor. The air howled as it rushed past, dragging the Emperor backwards and forcing it to its knees. The talons on the Emperor's left hand sparked as they caught the floor, scarring the metal as the force of the winds was slowly overcome by the friction of the Emperor's armored boots and golden talons against the metal floor.

"Did you think I did nothing but mope while I was your captive?" Isha laughed. "These golden wards of yours are made to project your power inwards in a cage suffused with only your essence. But, just like the walls of a badly built house, they are easy to knock down when they stand alone."

The Emperor glared up at Isha. Such a display of power should have been costly. Any attempt to overcome the Emperor with only psychic power would be annulled and it would cost more power to destroy the wards than it took to create them. However, the confident posture of Isha betrayed no worry. This inefficient usage of power did not disturb her in the slightest.

"You devoured their souls." The Emperor growled as it rose against the howling air. "That is the only explanation for this power." A golden finger rose to point at Isha accusingly as the Emperor stood up from the ground; long locks of raven hair flowing behind it with the wind, writhing like snakes. "Mother of the Aeldari. Goddess of Life. Your titles are nothing but sophistry and propaganda. In the end, you gods are no better than the Ruinous Powers of Chaos."

Isha only snorted at that.

"Do you think me so easy to anger with a statement of the obvious?" All emotion fell away from Isha's face, leaving only the blank eyed stare of something utterly inhuman looking at the Emperor. "I am a deity from the War in Heaven. It was we who kept the Sea of Souls clean of the corruption that now suffuses the Warp. We fed upon all the emotions including the pain and suffering felt by the races that worshiped us. It was by keeping all the horror they experienced in our bellies, converting their worst nightmares into our miracles and gifts, that there was nothing else for the Warp Predators to feast upon."

A wince returned emotion to Isha's face as some painful memory forced a hand up to her forehead. "Although, in the end, even we could not keep the Warp Plagues from ruining everything."

"Then you truly are no better than Slaanesh."

The Emperor gathered its strength within it, preparing its next move. There were no more Aeldari here. Whatever power Isha had was temporary; like an enormous battery that had been charged. The Emperor was still connected to humanity, constantly empowered by them. Victory would be the Emperor's eventually.

Even if the amount of power they had was equal, the Emperor's own nature rejected and reverted the unnatural and unclean. Thus, every interaction between Isha and the Emperor would take more from Isha than the Emperor. Eventually, Isha would run out of power, and then vengeance could be mete out at the Emperor's leisure.

Still, even though victory could be achieved by weathering this temporary storm, whatever fallout from their battle would damage the ship they were in. A quicker victory would always be better, and conquering a greater foe would foment a grander legend.

"You still do not understand what that means." Isha smiled to herself sadly. "I took the thoughts, dreams, and souls of my children as they died; slain by your people's hands or recovered by my own. All the thousands of years of fattening pleasure, and the torment of losing it all at the hands of She who Thirsts now lies within my breast." The goddess's hand rose to the goddess's chest, gripping at the simple white shift, wrinkling the thin Wraithbone cloth that covered Isha as the Aeldari's deity's lips curled back in anger. "It is only thanks to the emotion they carved my core out of, the body woven together by my mother, and the boiling blood my father poured into my veins that I can convert all the worst parts of their lives into a future good."

The Aeldari goddess's eyes were vacant, looking at something or someone that no longer existed. The pitch of the green and brown winds' howl raging throughout the room rose as the speed they ran around the room increased, denting air vents and forcing screws and bolts out of pipes as they forced themselves through every available opening in the room; as if they were seeking to escape as far away from Isha as they could.

"The strongest emotions born from the deepest despair and hottest hatred draw out the greatest power from the immaterium." Isha's voice was heavy with a smoldering resentful anger. "The Four are based off of that principle, and so were we."

A sardonic smile crossed Isha's lips, sheathing the white teeth bared in anger, as some semblance of control returned to the Aeldari goddess's face.

"Besides, do not speak to me as if you are any different. You throw all those who reach out to you into the flames for your own purpose."

The hand clutching at Isha's chest relaxed and fell away.

"In the end, we are both just a more complex form of Warp Predator. That was the name of the creatures the Old Ones specialized in breeding, after all."

Golden sparks crackled from the Emperor's eyes as its own lips drew back with its own anger.

"I am the Protector of Humanity." The Emperor spat. "Their sacrifices are the toll paid to ensure the survival of all mankind."

Isha laughed at this, a manic carefree laughter of exhaustion and disbelief. The irony of what the Master of Mankind said was too much to bear.

"Tell yourself what you want." Isha replied, head still shaking at the hypocrisy of it all. "The same theories that made me were applied when making you, even though you were far more blessed than I ever was." The smile disappeared from Isha's face as the last words left those pink lips, and a deep seated hatred glowed in those silvery eyes; dark green jealousy and black brown rage mixing within the abyssal black of the goddess's pupils.

"Enough of your accursed words, Aeldari witch." The Emperor said taking a step forward against the winds. "I may have wanted your knowledge, but I should have known that suffering your presence was never worth the price." Golden chains clinked as they emerged from around the Emperor; howling winds passing right through them, annulled and incinerated as they passed over and through the burning links of metal. "It may take me far longer, but burying you on Luna should bear fruit in a few decades."

The chains struck, rushing towards Isha through the wind at blinding speed, only to be suddenly entangled in dark green vines that grew from the ground and air around the Aeldari goddess. The two bindings clashed, with the chains slowly but surely pushing back the vines, burning and strangling them. However, the speed at which they moved was now at a snail's pace.

"I have seen your tricks, Mon-keigh." Isha snorted. "You would do best to never use the same ones again."

Time stopped for a brief moment as the Emperor realized something. Isha's form remained Aeldari, and no hint of animal claws or fangs appeared on her.

Those features only appeared when Isha was surprised or suppressing something; when some internal discord affected what shape the Aeldari goddess should take.

Isha was not conflicted, confused, or out of control at this moment. Every action was being conducted with precision and care. Every part of the Aeldari goddess was now in complete sync, and fully directed against the Emperor.

The most potent weapon in the eyes of the Mother of the Aeldari were not the beasts of the wild, but the Aeldari themselves and it was their form Isha now took.

The Emperor only had time to open its mouth before Isha vanished, turning into a gold and white streak that was rushing towards it. A misty cone of vapor trailed behind the goddess as the sound barrier was broken with the lunge.

Reflexively, the Emperor tried to step back, but only managed to lift its head backwards before Isha's fist narrowly missed the forehead and struck downwards into the center of its chest.

The blow sent the Master of Mankind through the reinforced metal of the floor with the screech of torn metal, only for that sound to be interrupted as the Emperor crashed through the ceiling of the deck below it, penetrating that one as well.

Floor, ceiling, floor, ceiling. The Emperor passed through 4 pairs before opening a Warp portal behind it that opened at Isha's back. The force Isha struck the Emperor with propelled the Master of Mankind like a bullet, sending the Emperor through the portal and towards the Aeldari goddess. But, even as the Emperor turned around to strike what it thought would be Isha's exposed back, the Aeldari goddess was already turned towards the portal, waiting for the Emperor to exit.

The Emperor could teleport instantly to almost any location it wished, but even the Emperor could not pass through a door that had not been opened. Thus, the door would always appear before the Emperor. Ergo, Isha would always strike first, for the Aeldari goddess would always stand in front of the door before the Emperor could pass through it.

But, that made no difference. The Emperor's sword was held with both hands, and the runes of forced slumber and thought-stealing were already upon the burning blade.

Golden steel met white skin, and cut through it like butter only to be smothered by an explosion of gray green bark and branches that tore themselves out of Isha's arm instead of red muscle and ivory bone.

The wooden bindings smoldered and steamed as they wrapped around both the blade of the Emperor's sword and both of its hands; holding the Master of Mankind in place.

The runes upon the blade crackled, and multicolored flames burned beneath Isha's bindings, making them glow like overheated wood or charcoal in a fire. Yet, the spell did not progress any further.

Static crackled before the Emperor's eyes, and new understanding spread through its mind.

Plants, when infected by a parasite or pathogen, had several defenses they deployed with their immune system. Their first reaction was to pump garbage into the affected region; to kill off the infected cells or entire leaves, to destroy the part in order to protect the whole. Isha used that biological reaction as symbolism for her own defense against the invasion against her mind the Emperor's spell brought; encapsulating it in junk memories and thoughts that she would kill off as the spell spread through them.

As long as the Goddess of Life continued killing the infected parts invaded by the Emperor's spell, its spell would never progress any further.

The Emperor struck with a psychic blow, firing a stream of golden flames emitted from before its face, only to be rebuffed as green brown winds slammed into them with even greater force; the Emperor's immaterium annulling aura balanced out by the greater violence Isha struck with.

Forked lighting lashed out from the equidistant point between them where their two energies met; clawing molten gouges into the floor, walls, and ceiling.

The Emperor would eventually win this battle between psychic blows. Even now, Isha had to spend more power just to hold the growing ball of blazing energy between them. However, it was the Emperor who would lose if time progressed any further.

Both of the Emperor's hands were bound, but Isha's other arm was free and it was cocked backwards like the hammer of a gun; the muscles in her arm and waist both pulled back and taught like an archer pulling back a bow string. In less than 0.01 seconds Isha would strike the Emperor with the force of several hundred cannons. Taking that blow at this close range, and with both its arms bound would be physically fatal. Even if the Emperor could regrow and repair its body, Isha would attack again before the damage could be repaired. From then on, Isha would repeatedly destroy the Master of Mankind's partially reconstructed form, and the Emperor would endlessly be on the backfoot.

The Emperor needed to take back the initiative this instant, and the decision needed to be made in less than 0.008 seconds.

Isha's eyes widened as the Emperor cut off its psychic attack, adding an extra millisecond to the timer, bringing the golden pauldron on the left shoulder forwards. The converging energies between them was slingshotted towards the Emperor and struck the golden pauldron, sending screaming sparks flying everywhere, pockmarking and cratering the wall behind the Emperor with a shotgun blast of psychic energies as the stream of green and brown gouged into the golden auramite of the Emperor's armor, shattering into splinters of force as the nullifying aura of the Emperor eventually destabilized them enough to break apart.

But, the Emperor's gamble worked. The force of the strike on its left shoulder had torn its left hand from the bindings, and as soon as the taloned hand was free, the Emperor swung its psychic might like a hammer into the side of Isha's green brown winds, deflecting both diagonally away from them, cutting through every hull and bulkhead of the Bucephelus as it crossed the wall, shooting into space like a laser beam.

Free of both Isha's psychic attack and part of her dead tree bindings, the Emperor's taloned hand closed around her upper torso as she swung forwards; freezing the motion of her waist, leaving only the muscles in her arm to swing forwards. Even then, the sonic boom of her strike sent a shock wave past the Emperor's cheek; cutting up the side of its face, shattering both the jaw joint and eardrum.

However, Isha's fist did no more damage than that, as the taloned hand held her back, out of arm's length. A Warp portal opened before them, and the Emperor threw the both of them outside of the ship, into the void between the Bucephelus and the planet below.

The Emperor's talons squeezed around Isha, sparking as the auramite screeched against the goddess's impossibly hard skin. Only the sword could penetrate that, and the blade was still bound in the bark bindings of Isha's arm.

However, the Emperor could feel the goddess weakening.

It was the Goddess of Life and the void of space was an inhospitable place to it. On the ship, there were still plants, air, dust filled ducts, and dirty rooms. All were filled with life of some sort; whether it be decorative flora, microscopic fauna like dust mites, and bacteria or fungi. The environment of the Bucephelus was a microcosm teeming with invisible life, and thus Isha could exist there comfortably.

Out here, in the lifeless void filled with no air, where the only winds were the solar winds released from radioactive plumes by the nearby stars that brought painful death for most life through genetic damage and radiation sickness, Isha would weaken.

Soon, the bark bindings would die, and the Emperor's sword would plunge into Isha's heart, sending her to sleep for all eternity; creating another alien Atlas that would shoulder all the worlds of humanity.

The Emperor expected despair, worry, or even pain to be expressed in the silvery eyes of Isha, but all it saw was the reflection of grim determination the Emperor itself acted with.

Isha's free hand grabbed the taloned gauntlet, and psychic energies sparked as the nails began to drill down past the Emperor's aura.

Something touched the Emperor's mind. Something unfathomably more massive than it, and infinitely alien.

Pain filled every nerve fiber of the Emperor, and its teeth gritted holding in a tortured howl.

Thoughts, sights, sounds, smells, and sensations seeped into all that composed the Emperor; adding weight to the golden path that threatened to cause its bricks to crack and crumble.

The Emperor attempted to throw Isha away, but it was the Emperor who was now bound to Isha. Its taloned hand was gripped with one hand, while the sword was bound in the bark still protruding from the other.

It��� He… She… could feel that whatever Isha was doing was interfering with the multiple personas that composed the Emperor, forcing a different face up to the surface as alien memories were dumped into the Emperor's mind.

Man, Woman, Old, Young, Black, Brown, Yellow, White. Every race, gender, and age of human shifted from one to the next as the Emperor struggled against Isha.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Emperor could see Isha was not unscarred by this either. Flames consumed the hand embedded in the gauntlet, burning away at her as the Emperor's essence rejected and reverted Isha back to the nothingness of the immaterium. A pained grimace furrowed her brow, and sweat flew off her skin into the void in pearly droplets as they tumbled ever closer to the planet.

Suddenly, Isha's grip weakened, and her arm that was bound to the blade via the flora that had come out from it came loose from the tree bindings, as if shedding the wood like a glove. Flames were consuming that hand as well, but the Empress didn't bother considering why or how that happened. Instead, she took her swords, still encased in Isha's bindings, and smashed the blade covered in burnt bark against Isha's head with all her might.

The titanic blow sent the goddess shooting away from the Empress, and shattered the charred remains of her bindings into charcoal splinters.

The Emperor reverted to his preferred male form, persona included, for whatever Isha had implanted inside of him still raged inside his core; burdening the already crowded path his true form paved with extra thoughts and memories.

The neutral mindset equidistant from everything could not be brought back, but it was a trivial matter. There was no need to be neutral to break a god. He hadn't defeated the Void Dragon as the Emperor, after all.

Isha was falling towards the planet, both arms still burning, but she was not dead. She could not be allowed to die after inconveniencing him this much.

Cursed knowledge from Molech came back with the horrid memories of that place, and new golden wards formed with the numbers of Chaos. 3 sided equilateral triangles formed far away from Isha, keeping them out of her reach while they were reinforced and strengthened. 8 of these were summoned with Isha at the center. They would close together as a shining trapezohedron formed from 3 sided triangles that would make a shape with 8 sides and 6 vertices; a double pyramid made with golden light and red flames that would fill with all the horrors of decay, war, and decadence humanity had experienced.

He watched her glare up at him, before shooting towards one of the gaps between the swiftly closing wards. They moved too slow to catch her, but he was expecting that. There were only a few places she could run to escape the wards. They would herd her right where he wanted her.

With all the psychic he could muster, the Master of Mankind launched himself towards Isha, far faster than any bullet or bolter round. Golden after images streaked behind him like the tail of a comet.

The burning blade of his sword roared as the flames that came from it grew brighter and brighter as he closed the distance between them.

Isha turned to face him, and he could now see the shifting beneath her skin as she prepared to intercept him again with the wooden self-sacrificing bindings, but it was his turn to see through her tricks.

If this were the immaterium, the same symbolism of self-sacrifice could have been used, for that realm was truly composed of thoughts and dreams. However, in the materium, no matter how effective the symbol was at its purpose, there was a physical limit to the material it was expressed with.

The Aeldari goddess grimaced, and the shifting beneath her skin withdrew.

The Emperor sneered at her.

The wood that exploded from her body would not stop him now. He traveled too quickly and with too much mass. The moment she tried to intercept him with that same trick, he would smash right through whatever branch or root she could produce and impale her in the same motion.

As the Emperor's blade streaked towards Isha, her burning hands slammed down on the flats of the blade, spewing glowing green and brown smoke from her hands as the flames ate through the flesh and bone of her fingers. But, she was still able to catch the blade centimeters before it punched through her breast. Psychic energies sparked and cracked as she attempted to push back the spread of the Emperor's spell with raw psychic power.

The two of them streaked through the ash clouds of the planet below them, appearing as a green brown shooting star with a golden tail.

Storm winds howled around them as they penetrated the upper atmosphere, gray ash turning orange at their passing from the heat of the friction they generated that burned the very air around them.

The Emperor's blade slowly started to slip from Isha's grasp, drawing closer and closer to her heart.

Then, the flames surrounding Isha's arms suddenly gutted out. The charred flesh and bones regrew themselves, restoring the white pearly skin of her arms and the soft smooth fingers of her hands. When her nails reformed, the Emperor felt something repel him, just like magnets of the same polarity push each other apart.

There was a thin glow of gold at the very tip of each of her nails, and it was these that now grasped the blade of his sword.

Such a weak grasp should not have been able to push back against his blow, but the blade refused to budge an inch while it was held between her 10 nails.

The Emperor looked up at Isha's face and his blood ran cold.

A wide eyed bare toothed grin stared back at him, like the smile of a wolf before an orphaned shivering lamb.

Ancient instincts honed by fighting the Bull of Heaven and countless other monstrosities screamed inside the Emperor's mind, and he swung his sword sending Isha flying off to the side.

Then, all sound disappeared as he suddenly accelerated towards the ground.

The air resistance that was the only thing that slowed his fall had gone, along with the atmosphere around him. Isha had pulled all of it away, and now he was falling faster than ever with nothing to stop him but the hard ground that was rushing up to him.

He reached out with his psychic touch to annul her grasp on the air around them, but quickly pulled back and instead surrounded himself in the strongest psychic barrier he could muster.

He was now in the center of a giant vacuum, equivalent to being at the epicenter of a gigantic primed Krak grenade. If he undid Isha's control, the vacuum would close upon him in a devastating shockwave that would pass right through his armor and liquify his insides.

But, Isha wouldn't wait for the Emperor to set off the bomb he was now inside. She would surely strike first.

Not a moment after he had that thought, a hammer of air slammed into his barrier from above. Isha had opened the top of the vacuum chamber she had created, and all the air that had been removed was now screaming down at him, shoving him towards the ground faster and faster.

The Emperor reinforced the barrier, his body, and his armor as he hurtled to the ground and struck it with meteoric force; sending dust clouds several hundred meters into the air with an explosion that cracked and cratered the volcanic rock most of the planet's crust was made of.

The remaining air displaced by Isha rushed in to swiftly disperse the ash and dust of the impact, leaving only the Emperor in the crater his landing had created.

Slowly, he rose to his feet and began to walk out of the concave hole he had made, only to stumble and land on one knee.

His eyes sparked as his physical form started to shift once again from male to female, old to young, race to race.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Isha said gently as she landed in a gust of wind, sitting down leisurely on the ledge of the crater above the Emperor.

"Powerful as that ability may be, using it has several risks that you should be well aware of." Isha rested her cheek on one hand as she looked down upon the ever shifting Emperor. "Should you stop your feet now, there is no assurance you will start from where you were, or even start again at all."

The Emperor glared at her with a feminine face before switching to one of an old arab.

"I always wondered what sort of god you were." She chuckled. "In hindsight, there were many clues. The impression you left on all your followers. Your self-righteous nature. The rejection of all that you see as unholy. I even understand why you found my song so painful to listen to."

The Goddess of Life hummed a small section of her song, and giggled girlishly as the Emperor grit his teeth and shifted into several other people rapidly as the discord within it increased.

"Your path is but one possibility among the many ways life can wander." Isha spoke quietly, her voice melodious and echoing as all Aeldari voices do. "You walk blindly upon it, always wondering whether things could be different, but never able to see what could have been."

The Empress glared at Isha, white teeth bared as her soft feminine features twisted with rage, glowering at the goddess with eyes wet with unspilled tears.

"It must be painful to hear all of what could have been in my song. To see and feel the peace that could have been yours if you simply chose to live a different life."

Isha sighed, and sat up right; looking down at the feminine Master of Mankind with cold regal eyes.

"But, you had no choice but to walk the painful path you did. No one else would, and no one else could. Even when you finally left the mortal realm and became a being of the Sea of Souls, you could not stop yourself from trying to save them. But, being a god means to define both what is and what isn't your Truth."

A slow smile crossed Isha's face.

"I see why they call you the Anathema..."

Neoth

First King of Uruk

Saint

Specimen D-001

The names and titles she called him were said all at the same time, overlaid upon each other yet simultaneously individually identifiable, truly revealing to the Emperor what exactly she had done to him and taken from him.

"You once pronounced to know the end of my path, God of Heroes." Isha said quietly. "Allow me to prophesize the end of your legend in return."

[tagedeszorns]

Not everything is worse in 40k!

I like how in 30k the Webway and any technology surrounding it is so mysterious and the Emperor spends a lot of time puzzling over it and keeping Magnus out of it and it's just oh-so-strange. Also: danger, Will Robinson!

And in 40k the whole Chaos bunch practically lives in there like some feral opossums inhabiting your walls. Fabius has so many portals to the webway he has to clarify which one he's talking about when he sends his guys to "defend the webway-portal!". Or Lucius' sorcerer just drives the whole Strike Cruiser with all the demons that cling to it right through it, like Karen parking over three disabled spaces at Walmart. Or the Thousand sons crawl around in it and lick its walls (probably).

So, much advanced! Many webway-understanding!

[thorne-rosenthal]

Full Necron OC pitch

Ineseht "the savior" "destroyer of the C'tan" "grand master of the ether" and many such other self given titles is a weird person by Necrontyr standards.

Before Biotransferance, he studied his way through Necrontyr academia until he could manage to elevate his family's social standing (I imagine him sneaking into a lot of parties held by academic types to learn more/steal books). He even sometimes bumped elbows with people like Szeras, Trazyn, and many well to do crypteks.

He was pretty young by the time he underwent biotransferance, and by that time had already dedicated his life to the study of the immaterium and Eldar/Krork magic. After biotransference, it became an obsession. His research was instrumental in the shattering of multiple C'tan, as well as countering Eldar magics in The War In Heaven (even if he gives himself WAY more credit than he deserves)

After the war had come to a stalemate, he was dragged back to a tombworld with everyone else, much to his dismay, since he wanted to actually go do stuff now that the war was over.

After being awoken from his sleep, he was pressed into the service of a necron overlord who's name does not matter, because Ineseht killed him for keeping him away from chasing his ambitions of becoming the galaxy's coolest Space Wizard and mastering the warp.

Coming from a slightly lower class background in Necrontyr society, he lost a lot of old friends in the soul furnaces because they hadn't gone up in the hierarchy like he did. This pushed him into outlandish radical beliefs like: social mobility is good, and maybe eternal stagnation is bad. Clearly he was a mad man...

Since his takeover of the now derisively dubbed: Etheric Dynasty, his court has become a hotbed for radical Necron political actors, and rogue Necrons of all stripes seeking freedom from the restraints of normal Necrontyr society. Or alternatively: those who want the power he claims to provide...

For you see: Ineseht is ambitious, but he has no time for patience. Since his reawakening he has been hard at work with all his most trusted crypteks building his magnum opus: The Transdimensional Ziggurat is an experimental ship drive aimed at making travel between dimensions seemless. His ship can travel between realspace, the warp, and even the webway with no need for a gateway or portal. A technology he's miniaturized and given to his most trusted commanders.

Of course, being a Necron overlord, he still keeps the cool experimental stuff for himself. Like his Anubian Gauntlet, a device afixed to his hand that allows for him to litterally tear open warp rifts with his hands (this backfires 50% of the time) or his Etheric Soul Emmiters, which generate an artificial warp presence, thereby allowing him to use actual psyker magic like he always wanted.

He is currently fighting with Tzeench, since Ineseht found out that there's just spells lying around waiting to be collected by Tzeenchian forces. His reckless chasing of chaos and Eldari relics has led to many a clusterfuck as his court frantically tries to clean up around the galaxy spanning trail of destruction caused by his need for more arcane power. He also keeps every psyker he can get his claws on, since they are too valuable for study to just kill. This causes friction even within his own dynasty. But no one wants to kill the guy giving them magic powers, and even fewer want to try and kill the guy who can scatter someone accross 4 dimensions with a solid punch

Might post about some of the other wacky guys in his orbit once I have more ideas for them. Serkeht, Oxus, and Hepthi are still in drafts.

[dryderpunk]

Found my old 4th edition webway portal,

Think it was a void grenade from apocalypse, but it's a 3" template

[the-consortium]

To Saqqura:

What will you name the Cardinal? Also, why does the bird remind you of your dad?

Arrian reads the short message, raises his head and looks at Saqqara who is watching him. "Yes, I think so too. No one else would come in to consideration. They keep popping up, they can't be eradicated, and they probably watch everything."

Saqqara nods. "Bloody Harlequins." He grimaces. "I've told the Chief Apothecary so many times to destroy the portals to the Webway! But no, he wants to keep that for whatever obscure emergency. And now we have these Eldar here forever."

"As soon as they get bored or their bizarre god stuffs a new idea into their brains, they'll be gone again for good." Arrian is obviously a little more relaxed about the whole thing. This may be because Saqqara naturally views Cegorach with much suspicion and anger, while the World Eater sees the old god as just another monster in the minds of his followers.

"But these letters are new," he said. - "And you know how persistent they are. Presumably it's cultish."

Saqqara looks at Arrian very warily, suspecting - probably correctly - mockery of religion, but Arrian only returns the look very openly and with a smile that distorts the scars on his cheek.

Finally, the Word Bearer sighs, raises his head defiantly and declaims: "To whom it may concern …. I have named the little bird Urizen because the Primarch has noted the beauty of this animal in several epistles and included it in his texts. I don't know what personal connection he has to it, possibly he finds it amusing that these birds were named after a religious rank in ancient times on Terra, which we still use today. Presumably the plumage colour refers to the colour of the prelates' clothing."

He shrugs. "And that's basically it."

[tearofisha]

Aelinor (2/?)

The next months were a steep learning curve for the former Seer. Lessons in travel, navigation and even reprovisioning were skills that the Path of the Seer had never taught her and she suffered for it now. Aelinor had begun to thoroughly regret her decision to leave when it appeared the Webway itself responded to her will. About two hundred feet away walked a figure, clad in Cameleoline and the Black of Ulthwe, with a recognisable helmet and rifle.

"Rishaeron?" She gasped. The distant figure picked up pace and jogged towards her, before it removed the helmet and confirming its identity. "Farseer?" He asked, his tone one of disbelief.

"What are you doing by yourself out here?" "Just Aelinor now, Ranger." She corrected, somewhat sheepishly.

A moment of confusion followed before Rishaerons eyes were full of both understanding and empathy.

"I see." He smirked. "Welcome to the ranks of Ulthwe's wanderers, Aelinor." He moved to walk beside her, turning her to face the opposite direction to her current bearing.

"It is either good fortune we have found one another, or the Webway brought us together. Will you travel with me? I intended to go home to resupply." Home? No, she couldn't go back so soon like a defeated Gyrinx with fluffy blue tail tucked between her legs. "Forgive me, Range-" She stopped herself, if she no longer held rank she should no longer address her former underlings by theirs. "Forgive me Rishaeron, but I have only just departed and would be loathe to return so soon." The Ranger chuckled and placed an arm over her shoulders, a casual act that made Aelinor stiffen at first; she was hardly used to any kind of contact at all, especially from the likes of an Outcast.

"Ulthwé is my home, just Aelinor. But it is not my only home. Walk with me." The Ranger continued down the given path, leading Aelinor through twists and turns while only exchanging the very smallest of small talk. She was grateful to find another of her kind, but also felt like a Shrine initiate with how little she truly knew about anything practical. Finally the Ranger turned to Aelinor, his face suddenly serious.

"About 5 people know of this place I'm about to take you, it is special to me and I hope you will keep the secret." He spoke closely, as if in conspiracy. Aelinor nodded.

"I swear it." She offered her hand to cement the promise to which Rishaeron smiled, taking her in a warriors grip instead. Then without so much as a backwards glance he fell backwards through the portal, bringing her with him.

A flash of light. A shock to the synapses and suddenly both were somewhere new. Aelinor's first sensation was of bird-song, then the high trees and perfectly blue-almost purple sky. A Maiden World? "Where?" She began to ask. "Many years ago, Aelinor, I fell in love with a Warlock of Iyabresil at the same time as discovering this world. Here we swore to build a home away from home that we could both return to during time of need. So I built a home, and we returned to being strangers once more." He pronounced with arms flapped to his sides, hiding the sadness in his voice. He had been in love? Built a home? And the whole time she had been on Ulthwe debating the skeins with greater Farseers than herself. The thought filled her with a regret akin to grief, a mourning for time lost and not spent living like Rishaeron had. "I am sorry, Rishaeron. For what happened and for never asking. What was her name?" He chuckled, perhaps a little ruefully. "I would be unlikely to divulge such information at the time, Aelinor, but thank you regardless. Her name was Solaria. She taught me to dance." The memory seemed to brighten the Ranger, as Aelinor pondered the last time she had danced. With the ancient Chapter Master of the Blood Angels she recalled, too many years ago now. "Come there is someone I would have you meet." Rishaeron began removing his weapons, pack and cloak, clearly this world was one with no immediate threats. They approached a cabin, lovingly hewn from felled trees with a thatched roof, simple wooden shutters and a little patio where some rough furniture lay. Aelinor had to admit some of the Craftsmanship was terrible, but it improved as the building continued and by the end one might assume Rishaeron had walked the Path of the Artisan. The Ranger kicked open the door and neatly began arranging his possesions as he called out. "Virtute? Virtute!" Aelinor quietly wondered if another Iyabresili was waiting, but both surprise and amusement reigned when a tiny scruffy Gyrinx trotted up to Rishaeron. "Hey buddy." He picked up the little creature and held it at eye level, only then did Aelinor notice it was missing most of one its ears giving it a lopsided expression. Clearly a rescue.

It was becoming clearer and clearer Rishaeron had a vastly bigger life than she ever gave him credit for.

"I have a new friend for you, go say hello." He placed the kitten on the ground and watched it leap into Aelinors lap, where she had self consciously found a place to sit at the foot of the bed. The purring began instantly, and Aelinor brushed behinds its ears until it began pouring at her sash. "What is its name?" She asked, already feeling more at ease. "She is Virtute. Ancient Terran, I believe it means strong." Rishaeron had the full smile only a proud parent could have. "Where did you find her?" The kitten yawned and stretched, falling asleep to the gentle stroking behind its ears. "Rescued her from a Hive World, I assisted an irritating perpetual in a personal matter and claimed her from the Underhive fool that intended to sell her." Aelinor only now realised she could not move, lest she rouse the raggedy beast. Slowly and cautiously she began removing her weaponry and passed them to Rishaeron who assisted in not distubing the now wheezing Gyrinx. "You look tired, Aelinor. Stay here a little while and travel with me, I'll teach you a little about life on the road until you can get by. It is the creed of the Outcast."

Aelinor looked up at Rishaeron and for the first time didn't see a soldier in her personal strike force, but saw a man with a complex life, scars, heartbreak, dissappointments and defeats all of his own who now offered to show her the way too. She smiled, between the familiar face and the purring engine in her lap she felt safe and comfortable for the first time in many years. "Thank you, Rishaeron." She offered her hand again, this time in a warriors grip. He accepted it, but was surprised when he was pulled into a close embrace. "I am sorry, I wish I had been a better friend to you, Wayfinder. I would be quite honoured if you showed me the steps ahead." She felt a pat on the back of the head and a returning of the embrace. "You were always wasted on Ulthwe, I am so happy to see you finally take these steps. Now no more nonsense, or you'll wake Virtute." He let go and began seaching through his pack, throwing bits and pieces into an iron stew-pot laid by the window. He struck a fire and soon the room filled with the scent of cooking herbs and vegetables, Virtute continued her nap for many hours and Aelinor kept the constant pace of her gentle stroking while gazing around the cabin. For tonight at least, all seemed well.

[gamecrag]

The Drukhari are a sadistic, hedonistic race that revels in the pain and suffering of others. They are a highly advanced civilization that has mastered technologies such as anti-gravity devices, advanced weaponry, and psychic abilities. They live in the dark city of Commorragh, which is hidden in the Webway, a network of tunnels and portals that spans the galaxy. In battle, the Drukhari rely on speed, maneuverability, and surprise to overwhelm their opponents. They have a wide range of units, including fast-moving Raiders and Venoms, deadly elite units such as the Incubi and Scourges, and powerful psykers like the Haemonculi. They also have access to terrifying creatures such as the grotesque Grotesques and the monstrous Talos. One of the defining characteristics of the Drukhari is their reliance on the drug called "Wych Cults." These drugs enhance their reflexes and senses, allowing them to fight with even greater speed and precision. However, the drugs are highly addictive, and prolonged use can lead to physical and mental deterioration. Overall, the Drukhari army is a highly mobile and deadly force that relies on speed and cunning to defeat its opponents. They are a complex faction that requires a skilled player to use effectively but can be highly rewarding for those who master them. 10) Reavers Datasheet Reavers are fast-moving units armed with a variety of deadly weapons, including cluster caltrops, grav-talon, and heat lance. They excel at hit-and-run tactics, using their speed and agility to outmaneuver enemy units and strike from unexpected angles. They are also fairly resilient, with a 4+ armor save and the ability to gain a 4+ invulnerable save against shooting attacks. 9) Hellions Datasheet Hellions are fast and agile units armed with deadly glaives. They can quickly move around the battlefield, thanks to their Skyboard ability, and strike at enemy units from unexpected angles. They are also fairly resilient, with a 4+ invulnerable save, and can use their Gruesome Talons ability to gain extra attacks in combat. 8) Wracks Datasheet Wracks are tough and resilient infantry units armed with a variety of deadly weapons, including ossefactors, liquifiers, and electrocorrosive whips. They can soak up damage thanks to their 4+ armor save, 6+ Feel No Pain save, and the ability to heal themselves during the game. They are also excellent at holding objectives, thanks to their Objective Secured ability. 7) Mandrakes Datasheet Mandrakes are fast and stealthy units armed with deadly nightfiend blades. They can infiltrate enemy lines and strike from unexpected angles, thanks to their Infiltrator ability. They are also fairly resilient, with a 4+ invulnerable save, and can use their Night Piercing ability to ignore cover bonuses when making their attacks. 6) Incubi Datasheet Incubi are highly skilled melee fighters armed with deadly klaives. They are capable of taking on tough enemy units in close combat, thanks to their high weapon skill and strength. They also have a 4+ invulnerable save, making them fairly resilient, and can use their Onslaught ability to gain extra attacks in combat. 5) Scourges Datasheet Scourges are elite warriors armed with a variety of deadly ranged weapons, including haywire blasters, heat lances, and splinter cannons. They are highly mobile, able to deep strike onto the battlefield and target key enemy units from unexpected angles. They are also fairly resilient, with a 4+ armor save and the ability to take a 5+ invulnerable save against shooting attacks. 4) Razorwing Jetfighter Datasheet The Razorwing Jetfighter is a fast and agile aircraft armed with a variety of deadly weapons, including disintegrator cannons, monoscythe missiles, and twin splinter rifles. It can move up to 90" per turn, making it one of the fastest units in the game, and can target both enemy infantry and vehicles with its weapons.

3) Talos Datasheet The Talos is a monstrous creature armed with a variety of deadly weapons, including a macro-scalpel, stinger pod, and chain-flails. It is also highly resilient, with a 4+ invulnerable save and the ability to heal itself during the game. In close combat, the Talos can dish out a great deal of damage, making it an excellent choice for taking on tough enemy units. 2) Ravager Datasheet The Ravager is a long-range weapon platform armed with three Dark Lances, making it capable of taking out enemy vehicles and monsters with ease. It is also fairly fast and maneuverable, able to keep up with the rest of a Drukhari army and take out key targets from a distance. 1) Archon Datasheet As mentioned earlier, the Archon is a key leader for any Drukhari force. Archon is highly skilled in both melee and ranged combat, and their aura of terror can cause enemy units to lose their nerve and flee the battlefield. They can also use their Command Points to grant nearby units bonuses to their attacks, making them a valuable addition to any Drukhari army.

[themorrignasystem]

what is sylvia tenebris? (sorry if i butchered the spelling)

Silva Tenebris is the setting of the video game Mechancius

A video game where an explorator fleet investiagtes a fallen colony because the world is a tomb world

I have taken it and homebrewed a world based on an alternate silva Tenebris, of which i called AST! Tenebris or Apon Silva Tenebris Tenebris, as Apon Silva Tenebris is the dnd campaign i made for this alternate version

I have lore

AST lore below cut

Silva Tenebris was a tomb world of the Szaregon dynasty. It was awoken during the early age of the imperium, slowly awakening over time. The awakening quicking during the era indomitus when explorators of the adeptus mechanicus invaded the planet. Once on the planet, the mechanicus forces invaded and scoured the planet. During their invasion of the planet, the mechanicus forces had a rebellion led by a known heratek. During this rebellion, Techpriest scavola sided with the heratek rebellion and killed Fuastinius in on one combat. Due to the fallen leader, the mechanicus forces suffered a skishm, with Lector-Dogmatis Videx dumping all the mechanicus forces on the planet and leaving, thus leaving the new leader Scavola and the remaining forces, which includes Xenobiologis Tiresus, Subdomina Khepra, Quartermaster Rho, Prime-Hermeticon Captrix, and Magos Dominus Reditus. The focres now lead by Scavola managed to establish an alliance with the Necrons of the tombworld.

They eventually dubbed themselves “The Court of Gears”, with Lord Szaregon and Lady Tech-aquisitor scavola as its leaders, using the mechanicus leaders to supplement the court members that fell during the original invasion. At some point, during interrogations with a void dragon C’tan shard, the shard spoke of an accession beyond flesh, even beyond Magos Dominus Reditus’s ascension. One techpriest, Madoc Fuego, decided to speak with the shard personally, and both disappeared for a long amount of time. After the period of time was done, a machine spirit calling itself Machina Furem emerged, showing a hybridization of the C’tan shard and the techpriest. The machine spirit however, also speaks of memories that was not Madoc Fuego’s, perhaps suggesting it is several techpriests and the C’tan shard. The machine spirit shown extreme interest in learning, so Szaregon and Scavola treated it as their child, and it learned all that the Court of the Cog could teach it. The machine spirit eventually figured out how to open temporary webway portals, and subsequently the Court of the Cog purged the world of the Flayed ones and the Destoryers.

However, not all would be well, as eventually Lector-Dogmatis Videx returned with a full fleet to perform an Exterminautus on the Heratekinca of the World. The court of the cog used hybrid Necron-Mechanicus tech to create a defense system that woud assult ships with bolts of Guass, and trace the beams with Necrodermis, thus ensaring and webbing the ship. The ships were then siphoned of motive force, thus stunning them. This meant that the exterminuatus fleet were ensared and pulled onto the planet, wrecking them. Lector-Dogmatis Videx’s forces were attacked and subsequntly defeated. Lector-Dogmatis Videx was captured and brought before Lord Szaregon and Lady Scavola. They decided to punish Lector-Dogmatis Videx by stripping him of his augmentics and wiring him into a vox system.

Some time after, a large shard of the C’tan Maldogoth emerged, and began a schism in the Court of the Cog, thus starting the War for tenebris. During the War for tenebris, forces lead by Maldrogoth began to use necron biotransferanse technology to capture and convert forces of the court of the cog to his side. Maldrogoth eventually seized the artefact of the Court of the Cog, but in a last ditch effort, the court of the cog split the artefact into 8 shards. Madrogoth seized 4 shards, and began to create a large device dubbed Maldrogoth’s Grasp, emplaced at the north pole of the planet, and connected to the core of the planet. Maldrogoth’s forces began to work on the tombs of the planet, carving strange pathways into the planet, and using scarabs and tomb spiders to carve sections of the tomb. When the carving was done, Maldrogoth used Maldrogoth’s Grasp to ensnare the star of the system, and drag it into the planet, and the purpose of Maldrogoth’s wrath was revealed; the star was ensared and forced into the planet’s core, desabilizing the planet, and the carved sections shifted, enlarging the planet and allowing every tomb to be powered by the star. The maldrogoth shard reveled in this, as it meant that it could use the newfound power to power Maldrogoth’s grasp even more. With more modifications, Maldrogoth’s grasp became even more powerful, allowing it to breech the webway and the warp, ensnaring all neabry ships and pulling them onto the surface of the planet, where tehy are scrapped for technology. The maldrogoth shard was distracted enough during the modifactations to Maldrogoth’s grasp that Prime-Hermeticon Captrix was able to assiante it by pushing it into the star core if the planet, however due to the nature of the C’tan shard, this did not kill it, but instead made it comatose.

In current times, the Court of the cog are mostly defeated, lying hidden in inactive tomb sections, hoping that machina furem coud organize an effort to purge Maldrogoth’s forces.

Due to the horrid atomosphere generating constant storms, and the high gravity of the enslaved star, hover technology doesnt work on Silvra tenebris, thus the mechanicus of the forge world adopted achhranid like patterns to their bodies and vehicles. It is not suggested to fly on Silvra tenebris, as the constant storms and dense atmosphere make flying difficult and dangerous. Due to the reshaping of the planet, large pillars of blackstone emerged along the coastlines and beaches of silvra tenebris, much akin to basalt pillars.

Over the years, many factions have come to or been grounded on silva tenebris, making it a constant battleground. It is of interest to those who know about, as it holds many secrets and technologies on it.

The factions under Machina furem regularly come to the planet to save the planet, but so far it has been to no avail. The factions include the Mechancus cult of the Machinasiah, which believe machina furem to be the omnisaih, the Adeptus soroitus cult of the Order of the Blessed cog, which are akin to the Machinasiah cult but also are mostly fanatical electropreists, using both augments of electropreists and arcoflagelants to create electrified zealots. The chaos cult of The Lord of Technology, which worship the warp nature of Machina furem. The Tau cult of Fio’Tek-O, which have learned the lies of the Etherals and decided to side with Fio’Tek-O.

(this lore serves as a campaign primer)

I have about 12+ OCs from ASTenebris

[chronicle-of-isha]

Chapter 15: The truth within legend

In the first days of the Aeldari, Asuryan granted Eldanesh and his followers the gift of life. He breathed into their bodies all that they were to become. Yet there was no other thing upon the world. All was barren and not a leaf nor fish nor bird nor animal grew or swam or flew or walked beside them. Eldanesh was forlorn at the infertility of his home, and its emptiness made in him a greater emptiness. Seeing his distress, Isha was overcome with a grief of her own. Isha shed a tear for the Aeldari and let it drop upon the world. Where it fell, there came new life. From her sorrow came joy, for the world of the Aeldari was filled with wondrous things and Eldanesh's emptiness was no more, and he gave thanks to Isha for her love.

-Ancient Aeldari legend on the genesis of their race

—----------------------------------------

Isha exited the portal, returning to the dark corridors of one of her children's ships. The conversation with the Emperor had dragged up deep memories back to the time after the War in Heaven, before the edict.

—----------------------------------------

Truly free and unopposed for the first time in eons, she and her children had set out to undo some of the damage that the War in Heaven had left. The galaxy was theirs, but horribly damaged. Entire sections were dark and lifeless; stars drained and planets killed, cores immobile and the atmosphere blown away by radioactive solarwinds. As the only major power left sane and standing, her children proclaimed it their duty to rebuild what they and others had destroyed.

It was a political as well as a humanitarian effort, for the Aeldari could predict their own population growth without enemies to thin their ranks. Expansion was the only method they could realistically come up with in order to ensure a common goal unified their ever growing populace; so the same internal strife that destroyed the Necrontyr did not consume them as well.

Thus, they set forth on their warships, troop carriers, and Talismans of Vaul in order to restore and rebuild with the weapons of war that they had used to destroy.

Isha watched them with pride from atop her arboreal throne as another world's biosphere joined her domain as the gravity tethers from her children's ships pulled another planet away from a red dwarf's orbit. Meanwhile, 3 Talismans of Vaul took position above the dying star, before firing their infinity cannons at an equidistant point between them, creating a beam of energy that pumped immaterial energies into the star's core; reinvigorating it from red dwarf to yellow.

Prayer came from those aboard the ships, asking for guidance and reaffirmation of the effect the newly reinvigorated star would have upon the gravitational fields of nearby and distant systems.

Isha simulated the effect her children's actions had within the Sea of Souls, its timeless nature allowing her to predict several possibilities at the same time, and reaffirmed their calculations. Her answer to their prayers was the warm feeling of praise through the psychic net and she felt them rejoice and relax at the answer their goddess and mother gave them.

Millions of others asked her similar questions. What the correct orbit of a planet was, how much power to inject into a star, the number of asteroid impacts necessary to amplify the mass of a moon or planet so it could keep the necessary gasses around it to form an atmosphere that would support life.

The mathematical calculations necessary were already taught to them by Kurnous, but it was Isha they asked for confirmation, for her children's foresight could not predict the interconnected fates of entire astronomical starsystems; especially when the margin of error to allow life was so slim.

A desperate plea came from one of the far corners of the galaxy. A small patrol of her children had run into one of the sleeper cells of the Necron, and although their weapons held them at bay, they were far from any Webway gate and the tomb world's pylons disrupted their immaterial drives enough that they could not remove themselves from the system before scores of battleships and cruisers were unleashed from the surface.

Isha frowned. It was not her time to come in the Aeldari warsong, but their recent dependence on her had made her the first they cried out to. She cast a look in the direction of the other gods; Khaine and Asuryan especially.

Neither seemed to be paying much attention to the situation. Asuryan's role meant that he himself was more distant to the matters of mortals, however, he was not eyeing her with any suspicion; in effect giving tacit approval for Isha's planned disregard for the usual order of things.

Khaine had been quiet as of late. He had been particularly bored of this long period of peace and reconstruction. Calls for his Avatars or his spear had been few, and now it was mostly the Psychomatons that sang his song. He did not seem to be aware of the situation at all or was ignoring it on purpose; possibly spurning those who called for the Goddess of Life first rather than the God of War. He had been uncharacteristically broody recently.

Isha turned back to her domain and the cries of her children. The dead Necron tomb world satisfied the requirements necessary for her intervention, although other means were supposed to be attempted first before she was summoned in earnest.

'They deserve some respite.' Isha thought and sent a request to Cegorach to assist the patrol group.

The colossal maw of the cosmic serpent that was the Laughing God's steed and friend opened, and the black void of space split in two, revealing a swirling vortex of multicolored clouds. The vortex swelled, swallowing up all the ships of the Aeldari in a single gulp, taking them back to the deep blue of the Webway.

Now, with none of her mortal children present, Isha was allowed to dispense her miracle.

A crystalline tear formed above her hand, completely black instead of the usual deep burgundy drops she normally shed, for this time it was mostly made of the reserves of her power rather than with the cries of her children. Psychic energies and divine knowledge entered the psychoactive matrix, programming and powering it with all that was necessary to recreate her legend.

Isha raised her hand above her head, crystal floating above her palm, then cast it down; throwing the tear through the immaterium. A rift opened up in the veil between dreams and reality, and the black crystal flew like an obsidian comet before impacting the dead planet with meteoric force; penetrating the crust and reaching the mantle.

The Goddess of Life's miracle activated, and the dead world was reborn.

Isha turned away from the planet. It would not be ready for another decade or so, and there were other prayers and pleas that required more attention.

As Isha simultaneously answered the various questions and prayers of her children, an entire section of her domain went dark; removed from her influence.

'What happened?' Isha though, eyes wide. Multiple scenarios flitted through her mind as she began to prepare the necessary countermeasures and protocols as well as sending emergency requests for assistance to set the other gods to standby mode.

'A reawakening of one of the Star Gods? Some unforeseen accident? Some buried spore of Enslavers or other Warp Plague? An extragalactic invader?'

Red runes appeared before her as she accessed the last memories of her children before contact was lost, and her eyes widened with horror as the burning image of her father materialized on hundreds of the most populated worlds, opening his mouth to utter a deafening tone, overwhelming her children and their tools with bloodlust and rage.

"Father, what are you doing?!" Isha cried, attempting to contact the Avatars directly for the place her father's form occupied in the pantheon was empty; his entirety now in the materium and spreading hatred and anger throughout the psychic net of the Aeldari.

"I do my duty." The answer was simple, yet the tone was calm. Her father did this deliberately.

"The war is over, there is no conflict here!" Isha shouted. "You have not been called! Remove yourself from my children, immediately!" This action would have dire consequences for Khaine and her children. Even now, the perception of Khaine changed, and the changes would become permanent and self-sustaining the longer he was in contact in such an aberrant fashion with her children. "Father! Father?! Answer me!" Isha cried as she watched several of the Avatars raise their spears and swords above their heads. "Why do you do this?" She asked, voice trembling

"Ask your daughter."

The Avatar's pointed their weapons at the very planets they stood on and drove their blades and spear tips through the crust. Isha's throne shook as entire sections of her domain crumbled; centuries worth of work incinerated in an instant. A ragged gasp escaped her lips as she watched deserts, forests, oceans, and all other types of biomes possible burn and break; their immaterial forms associated to her domain turning to dust leaving gaping holes of nothing in their place.

Her psychic embrace reached out to the children on those worlds, trying to collect their souls. Instead of the pained spirits she expected to find, only the ashes of regret, fear, and confusion remained. Khaine had taken almost everything they were, are, and would be leaving behind only the pain, sorrow, and anything else that might stay his wrath.

Isha hurriedly collected the ashes, absorbing them into herself with her love before they could pollute the Sea of Souls. Although calm now, the Warp Plagues had been started by emotions such as these, and Khaine's wasteful consumption of her children threatened the new stability of the immaterium.

The situation in the materium was even more dire. Khaine's influence rallied the Aeldari for war, enraging and embittering them against any and all around them. This was not a threat to just the Aeldari, but to everything in the galaxy. Her children had a greater empathy for their kin, as they were all connected to some degree through the psychic net. Anything else was foreign to them, as they were not intrinsically linked to their psyche; unable to share emotions or thoughts freely in a way indescribable to any other species.

Thus, the first target of their rage would be everything that wasn't them. A mass genocide of every other race would begin before her children turned their weapons upon themselves. The thousands of warships, troop carriers, and Talismans of Vaul repurposed for reconstruction and spread throughout the galaxy would be returned to their original purpose, and fire upon every race old and new.

Isha turned her Warp Sight to the palace of Asuryan, for this act by Khaine surely overstepped his role. However, she only saw the ever-bored gaze of Asuryan looking back at her, with no intention to act. For some unfathomable reason, Asuryan saw no reason to stop Khaine.

She glared at him once, before returning her full attention to the crisis before her. Even now her throne shook as another part of her domain crumbled to dust.

Khaine's destruction of the Aeldari had become self-sustaining. He would destroy entire planets, claim the majority of their souls, and move on to the next to sow even more destruction; leaving Isha to collect the ashes to prevent the destabilization of the Sea of Souls.

This slaughter would endanger everything. Yet, Asuryan did not act, even as the burning image of her father grew more ferocious and daemonic, Aspect of the Reaper jutting out as a new title, 'the Lord of Murder', was given to him by her children.

Isha grit her teeth. She needed to buy time while she considered her options.

"Damn you father, for what you force me to do!" SIlver eyes sparking, Isha set her foresight upon every planet of the Aeldari, predicted which ones Khaine would alight upon, and watched the populace burn and die in an unavoidable future. Several hundred reddish black tears formed in her hand, and she threw them at the planets she knew would be doomed, concluding that there was no saving the children there. Thus, the loss of life would not stain her hand, for her miracle would free them from the painful anger and all-consuming bloodlust, saving their souls from Khaine's fire.

Tear after tear fell into the materium, falling into orbit above the doomed planets, programmed to fall once Khaine arrived, rebirthing each one before Khaine could conscript her children to continue his slaughter.

Khaine's Avatars disappeared with the planets they formed upon as Isha's miracle fell to the surface and activated, slowing the spread of destruction as he was denied his next harvest of souls, forcing him to reduce his forces as his reserves of energy were temporarily depleted.

In that brief moment where Khaine's influence ebbed, Isha reached for every Psychomaton she could, and gave them the order to sleep. They were born from her children, so although they resonated with Khaine, they could still obey her.

As the titanic War-walkers slowed, Isha opened her hand, cracking open the ground beneath them before closing her fist, swallowing millions of weapons of war on thousands of different planets into the ground; burying them in stone coffins that would deafen them to Khaine's psychic call.

"Cegorach, buy me time." Isha contacted the Laughing God, whose aberrant nature would enjoy this disruption of normalcy.

A cackle came back, and Isha saw the great coils of the Cosmic Serpent Saim-Hann unwind from Gork and Mork, lifting the psychic blockade on the diminished Krork. Reunited with their gods, they began to launch a new great Waaagh with improvised ships and teleportation devices, spreading from their prison worlds and coming in contact with her enraged children. However, this would save the majority of the galaxy. Her children's bloodlust would redirect itself towards the violent green skins, providing an outlet for their anger. Their war would provide cover for the other less well defended races of the galaxy. The perfect bitter irony Cegorach so enjoyed; for the old race of violent maniacs would serve as the shield against her own children, insane with Khaine's rage, in a role reversal on galactic scale.

With Khaine slowed and her children occupied with slaughtering the green skins, Isha returned to solving the mystery of her father's actions.

'What does Lilieath have to do with this?' She thought to herself, and delved into the memories of all her children, searching through their dreams and visions for a clue as to what motivated Khaine to do all this.

Isha's blood froze in her veins when she found the answer in the visions of her most powerful children; Seers with the greatest potential for seeing the future.

It was a pink and purple poison that was seeping through the children most connected to the Sea of Souls, creating a thing that was not supposed to be present for tens of thousands of years.

Lilieath's vision was as much a self-fulfilling prophecy as it was a warning. Some took her daughter's message as it was, but the more powerful the Seer, the more clearly they saw what awaited them. These children lost all hope or inhibition; collapsing into depression or madness as the fear of eternal torture overwhelmed their mortal minds. Their terror infected all those around them through the psychic net, forcing them to try to shut out the sight of what was to come by overwhelming their other senses. The result of the temptress Goddess of Excess's call to them from the realm of probability and possibility through the window of dreams in an unconscious effort to speed Hir own birth.

However, it was that poison that allowed Khaine to act rationally. This slaughter seemed unjustified, but with Lilieath's message, it gave a reason for the culling; justified the murder of the Aeldari by the very god that had protected them for so long. Thus, Khaine would remain Khaine despite his actions, and Asuryan would never act; so long as Isha allowed it.

"Why? WHY?!" Isha gave a banshee shriek, rocking the very foundations of the pantheon.

Why was she not consulted? They could have found some way to delay or avoid this.

Why had they acted without her permission? Life and its definition was her domain, not theirs.

What purpose did all this slaughter and anguish have? Was there something else so horrible that they needed to do all this?

Isha pulled back from her children, inspecting the extent of the damage through the psychic net to reconfirm her options.

Khaine's influence boiled in the center, like an underwater volcano sending red orange froth outwards, agitating the minds and hearts of her children with rage and hate.

Lilieath's dreams fell inside and outside the parts disturbed by Khaine; multiple spots of pink and purple poison spreading deeper and further like drops of food coloring in water, sinking and expanding into the psyche of her children.

The skies of the pantheon darkened, as despair blackened Isha's heart. Prediction and simulation of the spread of her father and daughter's influence yielded only one conclusion. Neither her voice nor any of the other gods aside from the Phoenix King could stop the spread of hate and despair. There was only one way she could remove both of them safely from her children.

Asuryan's edict.

Khaine and Lilieath had overstepped their purview, encroaching on her Truth and definition.

It was her right to activate it.

But, once activated, none of the gods would be able to influence the mortal realm. That meant every prayer of her children would go unanswered, and the fate of the galaxy would be in their fallible hands and limited minds.

It was a dangerous gamble, especially with the reconstruction being incomplete, and so much damage done to the hearts and minds of her children. She could not make the decision lightly.

Isha rose from her throne. The time Cegorach and herself had bought was running out. She would need to see what her daughter saw before she made her final decision.

Isha ran to Lilieath's domain, forcing open the door only to find a single crystalline figurine of her daughter on the bedside table beside the hammock she used.

It was a vision meant for her, and one Lilieath had wanted her to see, for she had known that Isha would come here and left it in her place.

The crystal figurine was frozen in the kneeling posture of her daughter, as if begging forgiveness.

Isha's hand snatched the figurine up angrily. No explanation imaginable could justify what had been done behind her back. Even if it was justifiable, it did not change the fact that she had been betrayed, her children slaughtered, and the galaxy endangered. However, she was here to consult the Goddess of Dreams and Visions, and she would see what her daughter foresaw she would need to see.

The vision played out in Isha's mind, and the figurine slipped from her hand, shattering into a thousand diamond like shards on the floor.

This was why Lilieath doomed the Aeldari? For this, she spurred Khaine on forcing Isha's hand?

The logic was sound, and Isha understood the slippery slope she had always stood on. She was the balance and the definer of life. A cycle that turned eternally around an ever-shifting point of homeostasis that ebbed, flowed, and at times self-destructed. It was her role to redefine life every time it happened, so her miracle and legend could be recreated for the Aeldari as many times as necessary.

However, Khaine and Lilieath's actions could not be the answer. Leaving the galaxy to their conclusion would leave it dangerously depleted of life.

Although the culling of her children and all the other races would prevent the forming of She who Thirsts, and reduced the other gestating Ruinous Powers, it left everything vulnerable to a Necron resurgence. There would be no point saving the galaxy if it was all left for their ancient enemy to do as they pleased when they eventually returned.

There was no confirmation that all the Star Gods had been shattered either, and even then the fragments might rejoin and reform to restart the harvest of souls that was their only form of enjoyment.

Other horrors existed in the galaxy as well. Warp Plague remnants, divine deserters, abandoned species, and the Old One's failed methods to force all those who wouldn't to fight. The chances of her enraged children awakening one or more of these were unacceptably high. Although that occurrence would have no meaning to Khaine, for it would have the same effect as culling the Aeldari. For that reason alone, Isha could not allow it. What would replace her children would be far worse, and they would not allow new species to spawn; overwriting them before they even had the chance to breathe their first breath.

The existential threat of an extragalactic invader was also an ever-present distant threat. They were not the only ones in this universe, and any species that needed to travel between galaxies was either one that had a level of technology and culture unimaginable by even the gods, or had devoured everything in their old home, forcing them to find a new one to feed on.

Leaving this galaxy to one or more of those outcomes after everything she had done, everything she and her children sacrificed was unforgivable.

Worst of all, Khaine would only continue to act so long as Isha did not do her utmost to stop him. That meant, so long as Isha did not activate the edict, no matter how hard she pushed back or how many tears she spilled, the responsibility for all the deaths would lie upon her. To her children, whether she abandoned them to Khaine or acted against them herself, it was no different. They would die regardless, and only the phrasing of the legend that would come after would change, not its meaning.

If that happened, whether it was another 60 million or another 600 million years, Lilieath's vision would come eventually true.

'We still had time…' Isha thought to herself as the skies rumbled above her; thunder and lightning booming and flashing as her emotions became ever more violent.

But she knew why Lilieath forced her hand and made the decision of how life was to be lived by her children and all the other species in the galaxy for her.

As long as Isha followed her legend, the choice between bestowing her miracle was a binary one. A choice between 1 and 0.

As long as the choice was easy, she could make the hard decision with her tears.

When she became the decider of what fraction of life was allowable, what acts deserved her miracle and what didn't, she would eventually fall from her throne. After eons of predicting and preventing corruption from all sources, she would appear upon every planet and every star with black tears streaming down her face, only for them to fall upon every single stellar body as all life came to the conclusion of its cycle with her mournful cries.

That ending was something Lilieath could not allow, for the eternal rest was a dreamless one.

'We still had time…' Isha shook her head to herself.

She knew from the moment of her birth that she would suffer eternally to prevent the eventuality foreseen by Lilieath. Any weapon of war that enjoyed its function too much was as much a threat to its creators as it was to their enemies.

Her misery and sorrow, and the method by which her miracle was powered ensured she would forever weep to recreate it.

'We still had time…' Isha reflected upon her own actions, and gritted her teeth.

Lilieath's visions did not always come true, but to see them meant there was the chance they could happen. Isha had become more reckless and more unrestrained with the newfound freedom she and her children enjoyed. She ignored the original order of things, as all life does in its constant evolution to adapt to its surroundings.

Even then, the choice had always been between 1 and 0. There was no chance of Isha falling today or tomorrow or even a million years from now.

There had still been time, but not anymore.

Isha stormed out of the room, calling the winds to carry her to the abode of Morai Heg. If there was anyone who could avert fate, it would be the Crone. Lilieath would be there as well, and Isha needed to see if she truly understood what she had done.

As the winds howled around her, Isha stormed into the room where Morai Heg and Lilieath were waiting.

"LILIEATH!" The ground shook as Isha called her daughter's name and reached for her daughter upon Morai Heg's shoulder. "What have you done!"

Just as Isha's hand was about to close around Lilieath's entire body, Morai Heg's remaining hand closed around her wrist.

"She did what she had to, daughter." Her mother spoke quietly, and thunder rumbled with Isha's rage at her mother's statement.

The Crone sided with the Goddess of Dreams and Visions, pronouncing her prophecy valid and the fate chosen to be immutable.

There was no turning back from this crossroad.

Dark green and blackish brown energies swirled in Isha's eyes as she glared into her mother's pupils.

"It was not her decision to make!" She cried. The Aeldari were doomed, as well as every god in their pantheon. Lilieath had sealed her own fate, and the Aeldari without a single word to her mother.

"They are my children! That is my duty, my burden to bear, my Truth! NOT HERS!" Lightning struck the ground, sending shards of Wraithbone flying, only to be seized by the winds and dragged up into the black sky. Isha saw with her own foresight the future of Lilieath and Morai Heg. If eternal torment was all that awaited them, why did she even bother holding back and simply end everything as it was ahead of schedule?

"Then you know what you have to do in order to go back to that path."

The Crone's gaze was unmoving, unflinching, and unafraid. The fate of the Aeldari was still in Isha's hands. Lilieath may have put them at the crossroad, but Morai Heg's pronouncement made it clear that the final decision was still Isha's to make.

Isha glared into the eyes of her mother and daughter and saw their resolve as the double vision of foresight overlaid with the present view; showing nothing but scattered ashes and the voiceless, faceless, limbless form Lilieath would eventually be reduced to. In their eyes, Isha's own fate was reflected for her to see; naked and caged in rusted metal, force fed endless plagues and poxes by the oldest of the new usurpers who were still unborn.

That was the future they had chosen, with full foreknowledge of what would happen at the end of both paths.

Isha turned away from them, yanking her wrist out of Morai Heg's hand.

There were no more words necessary, the choice was to either move forwards into pain or slide backwards into blackness.

—----------------------------------------

Isha reflected on her emotions of that time as she continued down the dark corridor. Part of Isha wished to do as Morai Heg had said; simply allow Khaine's slaughter to complete and bring oblivion to everything as Lilieath foresaw.

However, she could not do that.

To return to the analogy of the train, Lilieath had stood on the tracks and grabbed the lever that changed the direction of the train and pulled with all her might to send the locomotive screaming over her own body and the bodies of Isha's children, mangling them all, sending blood and limbs in every direction.

The timing was too early for Isha, for there were still several splits in the direction the tracks of fate could have gone, but Lilieath too was Isha's child, and if this was the future she preferred over the eventual oblivion her mother would bring, then Isha would grant her hateful wish.

'Then there was the talk with Asuryan.' Isha thought glumly to herself, returning to memory as she opened the door to another one of her mortal children in need of her mercy.

—----------------------------------------

Isha landed at the palace of Asuryan and stormed through the entrance way to the audience chamber where Asuryan sat on his throne.

"So, you have made your decision." Asuryan said, sitting bored on his throne as she marched before him.

"You knew everything." Isha spat at him, glaring at him with teeth bared.

"Of course I did." Asuryan shrugged. "I would make a poor god that gave the Aeldari all their powers if I was not elevated above the rest of you as much as you are elevated above them."

"Then why did you not say anything?" Isha growled.

Asuryan sighed, and lifted a hand, detaching the flow of time within the audience chamber from everything else around them, preventing any from outside the walls from ever listening to what was said inside.

"I know everything that has, is, and will happen. I already see the choice you've made, and what you plan to do to disobey me with your consort and another one of my brothers." He snorted and muttered 'if only you could keep your secrets better hidden' under his breath.

"However…" Asuryan resumed in his normal tone. "Just because I see everything does not mean I have to prattle about it like the three of you."

Isha opened her mouth, but Asuryan raised a finger to shush her. "Before you ask your next question, you already know why I do not do that. If I told you or any of the others what to do or when to stop, it would be no different from me commanding the Aeldari; just as much as leaving my brother makes you responsible for your children's deaths."

Isha bit back her harsh words, for what Asuryan said was true. If she was guilty by proxy for her inaction, any command or warning given to any god by Asuryan would eventually reach the mortal realm.

"If my voice ever reached the Aeldari, they would cease to be a species from that point forward, merely pawns dancing at my command. Without free-will, individual-thought, or doubt; they would become nothing, and even the Sea of Souls would become bleak and bland. All the clouds would turn silver, and my boredom would become the new reality; truly leaving nothing but a hell of my own making."

Asuryan straightened his back, placing his arms on the armrests of the throne, bringing himself to his full seated height.

"We live in the Sea of Souls. A place where tomorrow happens before yesterday. A choice once made echoes forwards and backwards." Asuryan's eyes fixed onto Isha's and the silver flames that burned within the eyes of an otherwise rather unremarkable Aeldari seemed to rage; like a prisoner gripping the bars while thrashing and screaming to be released. "To choose even once as a god means to have chosen until the very end. There is no avoiding or preventing that."

Isha glowered at the Phoenix King; the one from whom all Aeldari stemmed from, and the divine ruler of the Aeldari Pantheon. To speak with Asuryan was to be belittled and lectured. He appeared omniscient and was intended to be so by their creators, but in truth he was a silvery polished mirror or conjoined set of lenses that reflected everything and everyone who spoke to him.

Yet, in this Sea of Souls where time had no meaning, Asuryan perceived everything that had and had not happened to the beings that saw him. Therefore, he knew the beginning and ending of everything that caught sight of him and was eternally bound to inaction because of that fact. His role after giving life to the Aeldari was to maintain the law between the gods, judge any who could reach the foot of his throne, and ensure they remained true to their own self-described nature and function.

Thus, the only answers that he gave were those found within the asker themselves, and his miracle would only be granted in a way that the god or mortal wishing for it could understand.

Still, she could not stop herself from attempting to convince him of the impossible.

"Your death lies at the end of either road. Do you not think to prevent it?" Asuryan was the ruler of this Pantheon. She who Thirsts would come from the Aeldari gods, and Isha herself was ultimately subservient to him. He had the power to hold back both, if only he chose to do so.

"I know that..." Asuryan nodded, face impassive and unemotional. "And it makes no difference." The ghost of a smile seemed to cross his lips for an instance before disappearing. "Either way, I will finally be free."

Isha looked downwards as her fists balled. That was the same answer Asuryan always gave:

Even when the winds of battle during the War in Heaven blew against them.

Even when the Warp Plagues erupted, and the Old Ones were exterminated one by one.

Even now when certain doom loomed before them.

"But…" Asuryan continued. "That is not the true reason for your ire." The all-knowing self-satisfied smile Asuryan always wore during his lectures spread across his face. "Lilieath took away your choice, while leaving it in your hands. The fact that you stand before me means you have already made it exactly as she hoped and foresaw. That is the truth of the matter, and the instinctual anger you feel as a god."

He chuckled as her brow furrowed before continuing.

"There is a primitive saying that is yet to be said, 'The dye is darker than the plants it is made from.' Lilieath, your child, understands the importance of a choice made by a god far better than you. That is why she made her choice so you would never have the chance to make yours. The suffering of the Aeldari and our deaths are merely secondary. Afterall, you are created by death and sorrow, with only your love keeping the balance between what you were made to do and what you are made from."

"You think pride and possessiveness are all that drive me?" Isha's voice was quiet, but it was the quiet before the storm, the receding of the ocean before the tsunami struck.

Asuryan sighed and scratched his head. "Even now, you try your hardest not to understand. What did I expect? Nothing is as ugly to a hypocrite as their own reflection."

The cursed eyes of Asuryan turned back on Isha, reflecting her glare and bared teeth. "The pain of life is nothing to its goddess, for it is she who allows it to torture all that walk within the cycle."

Before Isha could retort, Asuryan raised his hand again, and the time within the audience chamber reconnected with time outside.

"Now, choose; Goddess of Life." Asuryan's voice was authoritative, commanding, but utterly devoid of emotion.

"Will you expand your definition to how life should be lived, cull all those left wanting, and eventually fall as the futility of it all finally breaks your heart?"

"Will you allow Khaine to claim the mantle of reaper in your stead, and watch as the galaxy grows dark before destroying everything that is left as your children redefine what you are and what you represent?"

"Or will you proceed unwillingly along the doomed path laid before us by your daughter, fighting to change fate for all for eternity?"

Three tracks were laid before Isha, which led to only two outcomes:

One of obliteration and another of oblivion; both ending in the same way.

One of pain where the suffering of every Aeldari and every god was waiting.

The choice was already made as Asuryan had said.

Isha knelt before the Phoenix King and uttered the words necessary to request the activation of the edict.

"By my Truth and right as the Goddess of Life, I demand the activation of the edict for the usurpation of my duty and definition by the God of War and now Lord of Murder, Khaine. In accordance with our laws, the realm of mortals shall be shut off and protected from us until the invasion of my domain ends. I rob the Aeldari of their greatest strength and leave their questions unanswered with my divine mind. They shall be led by my champion and hero; Eldanesh, the first of the Aeldari. He acts in our stead as our hand and voice, and only he shall pass through the walls that hold us in."

"So be it." Asuryan said, and his voice echoed through the entire palace, reverberating and reflecting upon itself while growing higher and lower in pitch at the same time, until it was as if an entire chorus was made with just his voice.

Silver flames rose from his form as Asuryan's edict activated, rising in a silver pillar of flames that punched a hole through the black clouds of Isha, and entered the realm of mortals. The flames entered the mind of every Aeldari, wiping out every trace of Khaine and Lilieath's touch from the psychic net, reverting them and the Psychomatons taken by Khaine to their normal state.

The Avatars faded into nothing as Khaine was brought back in his own pillar of flames, and Wraithbone walls rose around the pantheon; barriers to keep the Aeldari gods in first and everything else out second.

Isha marched out of the audience chamber, no longer interested in talking to the Phoenix King.

He would never act, for to do so was to choose to influence the world with foreknowledge of every action and reaction. When that choice was made, every other choice would be made as well, for only the most optimal and least burdensome path would be chosen, and there would be nothing but the word of Asuryan left.

The Phoenix King valued self-determination above almost anything, for it was the one thing he did not have, for he was cursed with foresight so powerful no choice existed. Thus, he would never act, even if those he gave life to chose to destroy everything they had built.

As Isha stormed out of the palace and into the courtyard, she locked eyes with Khaine who had just returned from the mortal realm. Blood dripped from his sword, and she could see the ghostly outlines of the children he had forcibly conscripted to continue his slaughter in the mortal realm within his flames.

There was a banshee cry, and Isha did not know whether it was coming from her throat or her father's, but the two clashed as everything Isha had suffered broke out in a flood of violence.

The bout lasted only a few moments before Asuryan's chains separated them.

"The edict has been activated as decreed." The Phoenix King said, tone quiet and unemotional. "From this point forth, all contact with the materium has been forbidden."

Isha sank to her knees, chains clinking as the rain grew heavier, soaking through her clothing and sticking it to her skin.

Khaine remained standing, raindrops hissing as they hit his flaming form. His burning eyes glared at Isha's bowed head.

"Are they worth everything that can and will be lost, daughter?" Khaine finally said.

"They are my children." Isha whispered. "They are my duty, my responsibility."

She was the Goddess of Life and the mother of the Aeldari. However, she would never tell them how to live their lives or punish them for their sins. The only time she would take back what she gave was as an act of love and mercy, as it always had been. If she ever chose otherwise, she would betray Lilieath, and invalidate everything her daughter was prepared to sacrifice.

That was her choice, and how she would define life from then on, no matter how hard she tried to forget that fact.

The rest of Khaine and Asuryan's words dulled as Isha stared downwards through the immaterium, locking eyes with Eldanesh as he glared upwards into the Sea of Souls with all his followers, angry at what the gods had done to the mortal realm, unable to understand what had transpired but fully aware of who was responsible.

A hundred years had already passed since Khaine burned the first planet.

Her beloved hero and champion was weary from keeping the peace within the Aeldari as their anger grew, redirecting it to the Krork and their gods when Cegorach provided the scapegoat necessary to sate their bloodlust. Now, he had to deal with the green skins without the assistance of any of his gods, and lead without their divine knowledge; unsure of whether the path he proceeded down was correct. She watched him reach out to touch the edict only to stop himself before his fingers could pass through the Wraithbone walls that now surrounded the Aeldari Pantheon. He believed in the gods and trusted their decision. He would deal with the issues left in the mortal realm, as he was the first and chosen of his race and acted in the gods' stead as their voice and hand in the materium.

That was the definition of his duty and role.

Isha watched as Eldanesh returned to his council of surviving Seers, preparing to spread hastily made myths and legends; the propaganda necessary to keep the populace's belief in the gods stable. The edict may prevent the gods from reaching the mortal realm, but other creatures lurked in the immaterium; warp predators, parasites, and plagues from the War in Heaven that the gods would need the Aeldari's faith to fight.

Once that was done, he could finally put down the Krork remnants and their gods with psychic power and poisonous politics. When he was finished, they would be broken and divided, forever pulling their gods in different directions, eternally fighting themselves and everything else. Then, he would rebuild what was broken with mortal means. Only after everything was returned to where it was before this disaster would he storm the gates of the Aeldari Pantheon in his personal quest to demand answers for what had transpired.

—----------------------------------------

Isha closed the eyes of another one of her children, as she laid their body on the floor. This ship was now devoid of Aeldari life, and it was time to move on to the next ship.

As she accessed the former pleasure cruiser's controls, replicating the signal required to contact the Emperor, Isha reflected on all she had done.

After activating the edict, she had tried many times to avert fate.

She had gone with Kurnous to beg Asuryan to allow only their knowledge to reach their children, fully knowing it would be in vain.

She had asked Lilieath to re-send her prophecy. With the damage done, there was no point hiding what would happen to the Aeldari from their foresight, and dreams were the one way the gods were still connected to the mortal realm.

She had worked with Vaul and Kurnous to repurpose her tears to allow their teachings to find a way to the materium.

Time and time again, she had schemed and fought, pleaded and threatened to save the Aeldari.

Some may think her partially successful, as the tears modified by Vaul and imbued with Kurnous's teachings did reach the mortal realm and still remained buried on several of the Core Worlds. A few of her children had escaped the first assault of She who Thirsts, giving them the chance to take up the sword and spear to prepare to defend their soul.

However, the fate foreseen by Lilieath had not yet ended. Isha was not in a rusted cage at this moment, but whether that possibility had been averted or merely delayed was yet to be seen.

There was the chance that fate would come from the Emperor's hand, bartered to the Plague Lord for some secret or gift once she was no longer useful. She was merely a tool to the Master of Mankind, and only for so long as she was useful as the Emperor told her when they first met.

A portal opened before Isha, leading to another one of the former pleasure cruisers, and Isha stepped through it into another dark corridor while internally returning her thoughts from the past to the present.

This relationship between the Emperor and her needed to be reforged. They were alike in some ways. Her hate and self-loathing would not have resonated within the Emperor if they were not for she saw them fuel the fire within those brown eyes.

The Emperor's conclusion, although ignorant, was not entirely incorrect. She had thought of choosing the other path, only doing the opposite because of her mortal and divine children. In that sense, it was her love that made her choose the opposite of the Emperor. Therefore, the Emperor's accusation was not completely inaccurate, if only barely scraping the target out of blink luck than anything else.

What that meant was that there was the potential for empathy between them. Whether that could be nurtured through temporary obedience and subservience was yet to be seen, but at the very least, they were not entirely incapable of understanding each other.

She snorted to herself as another possibility entered her mind.

'Perhaps it is because we are both hypocrites in our own way that we can understand one another, and in turn cannot stand to look at each other.'

A hypocritical Goddess of Life who originally made life only to send it to die, and whose true miracle was only dispensed on those that could not be saved.

A hypocritical god that was not a god that wished to protect its people, while brutalizing and sacrificing them endlessly to pave only a single golden path forwards, robbing them of their personality and choice.

Isha looked down at the place her children's warships had crashed, the continuous line of valleys and gorges; as if some one had taken the crust of the planet in two hands and shoved it together.

The Psychomatons she had buried here to protect from Khaine's call remained, deafened in the same way to the psychic scream of She who Thirsts. They and many other groups of War-walkers still slumbered on a couple hundred planets, unrecovered by Eldanesh or the Aeldari that came after him during the reconstruction. All the others who were freed from Khaine when the edict activated or were dug up and reawakened by the Aeldari were gone, consumed entirely for they were far closer to the Goddess of Excess than any other.

Whether the Emperor accepted their service or not would determine how she would deal with Humanity's Protector.

[moociaoafterdark]

... Aside from the "anti incest = anti LGBTQ", shipping isn't always about something healthy and romantic. Shipping is about exploring relationship dynamics. It's like enjoying a horror movie... or liking the grimdarkness of Warhammer. Yeah, it's fucked up! That's the point! That's why I'm here!

There's a reason shipping is often tied with drawing/writing porn. Just because you like watching humans take xeno girls as sex slaves or idk a Sororitas being raped by Chaos Cultist/Chaos Daemon/Xeno/Tyranid/etc, it doesn't mean that you actually enjoy/support things like slavery, rape, zoophilia, misogyny, etc. Fantasies don't define us and they can be dark. There are multiple studies about this done by many scientists and psychologists and if you want, I will gladly sent them.

As for Konrad/Vulkan specifically... Well, I don't ship them myself (I prefer Roboute/Vulkan), but if I have to speculate: it's the horror of watching an incredibly broken beyond repair person torment the only one that was willing to listen and help, to a certain point at least. Konrad is a person that was denied everything and, on top of raising himself in the city crawling with the most despicable criminals ever, he was tortured by visions of a horrible future that he is not certain if he can prevent. He was one of the few characters that was aware what world/franchise he was born into. This revelation drove him to insanity. One that was only worsened by good ol' Big E, who exploited Konrad's insanity, instead of trying to fix it. Everyone were disgusted by Konrad, all of his brothers, except Fulgrim and Vulkan, but they were as much of pups as Konrad himself was. They could never hope to fix him, it would take far more than that, far more patience and understanding, something they couldn't afford while the Crusade raged on. Vulkan on the other hand had a happy childhood. He was raised by a loving father, he had a community that loved him and saw him as their hero, their savior. He is an excellent smith, a creator, instead of a simple destroyer and a monster like Konrad, he is not afraid to show kindness because he was never punished for it, it was never against Vulkan's survival to be kind. On top of that, he also has a better relationship with Big E AND his brothers. He is an anathema to Konrad. THIS is how their dynamic becomes interesting. It's the horror of Konrad breaking Vulkan over and over again. Could there be a silver of chance where he succeeds? How would a broken Vulkan look like? Assuming the Heresy failed spectacularly (no Chaos God powered Horus, no Big E being forced to sit on the Throne, Magnus ACTUALLY not doing anything wrong and the Webway portal is intact), how would their relationship go from there, assuming Konrad is kept alive? What if Vulkan was a little more patient (or perhaps more of a pushover) and gave Konrad more chances? Would Konrad continue to exploit Vulkan's kindness until the man breaks? Or would Konrad give up and hesitantly reach out for his brother. Reach out for a man that wasn't disgusted by being Konrad's brother?

TLDR: It's all about playing with your Barbie dolls, man!

Okay, I was half asleep when talking about Primarch shipping.

But I can't say I am against it... Mainly because someone will get on a soap box and claim me being anti incest is anti LGBTQ, also @tagedeszorns who has read way more of the heresy than me pointed out that brotherhood loosely defined them, Fulgrim even saying they are not brothers in the true sense.

But there are some ships that make me go WTF, like Konrad/Vulkan.... Just... How? Konrad spent the entire heresy treating Vulkan like shit, how is that healthy?

I guess I will treat it like the Fat Marines posting, part of the fandom that exists, but I sure as fuck don't understand.

[the-consortium]

Why are you such a goober? Like you've been being a real sillybilly. What have you to say about this silly goosery?

"Savona! Those damn clowns are back again! I told you to set the traps at the Webway portals with fresh Harlequin bait! You all know what happened last time. Once they are in, you can hardly get them out of the walls again and then they are breeding and the smell is unbearable even for Khorag. Not to mention the damn cakes and buckets of whitewash they are leaving everywhere. So, let's go - earn your keep and get those pesky xenos off my back!"

[ladynighthaunter]

A massive Craft World Ship slips out of the webway and appears! Stepping out from a web portal appears Eldrad Ulthran. "The visions and the runes have guided me to this point to deliver a proposition to you Primarchs. No loyal sons of your Father will attend if it is officiated by a follower of chaos. So perhaps as a Neutral party, I may offer my assistance?"

"......."

How does everyone know?