Urban Jungle

Range, four hundred meters. Target, Mon'keigh officer. No force field, simple carpace armor. Barbaric. No helmet – stupidity.

Wind speed – 2 miles an hour to the west. Bullet drop: Negligible. Obstructions: Five basic troopers – maybe aides?

Doesn't matter. The Exile took a careful look down his scope, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The stock of his rifle pushed back gently against his braced shoulder, and the Mon'keigh commander slumped to the side, a small hole in his right temple. His adjujants leapt into confused action, but the Exile was already away.

He crept through the ruined buildings, keeping his back to the wall at all times. An armored Mon'keigh patrol almost caught him, but he managed to avoid their lights and confused glances. He needed to find his next target.

In the distance, he saw two of his own kind standing in the open together when one slumped to the ground, a smoking hole in his head. A Mon'keigh sniper? Fascinating. He's good. Let's see how good...

Keeping to cover, the Exile moved swiftly and carefully as he followed the Guardian's footsteps, nodding in approval at the sight of him killing a Mon'keigh child.

They shall pay for what they have done to our world.

There was no sign of the Sniper, until the Guardian's throat was blown out by a round and he slumped into the concrete floor. The Sniper descended and began to loot the Guardian's body. The Exile's eyes widened in outrage as he saw what the Sniper had taken from his fellow Eldar's corpse.

Spirit stones? Isha, NO!

The Exile fired quickly, instantly regretting his rash decision as his shot went wild by almost a meter. The Sniper flinched and rolled into cover, his cloak blending into the piles of rubble littering the streets.

The Exile groaned and rose, shouldering his rifle in favor of a short mono-knife. He'd slit the Sniper's throat and reclaim those Spirit Stones, where they shall be rejoined with their Craftworld's Infinity Circuit. He may have exiled himself many centuries ago, but he owed his former home that much at least.

The Sniper was good, he'd give the Mon'keigh that. But it would be impossible for a Mon'keigh to defeat an Eldar Ranger in a stealth mission.

The Exile's arrogance was what led to his own shock when a las-round smashed through his thigh, dropping him. Gasping in pain, the Exile rolled into cover. Impossible. Where is-

"Hey." The Sniper said with a grin. The Exile sprang over, raising his knife to throw, when the second Long-Las round was fired point-blank into his face.

The Sniper sighed, lowered his rifle, and moved along. Only this block was secure, the battle was still raging in other parts of the city.

He had to stay vigilant. He kept low, and kept moving. He saw two of the open-topped Eldar vehicles – their pilots exposed to his fire – strafing the sky with missiles and las fire. He raised his long-las, measured the distance, and fired two shots at the first War Walker. The pilot slumped into his controls, causing the walker to suddenly run forwards, its weapons firing at its feet, knocking the other one over. The Sniper shielded his eyes from the series of white flashes that followed as the Eldar's technology destroyed itself.

Huddling down, he saw the remanants of an Eldar Guardian squad attempt to retrieve their fallen comrade's corpses. He raised his rifle and aimed at the one in the flowing robes – probably the leader, if the Xenos had any similarities to Humans at all.

The Warlock raised his head in the Sniper's direction, making him frown.

"What are you looking at - " He whispered, and then white lightning exploded from the Warlock's hand and smashed the area he was sitting in a few seconds before.

"Holy Throne!" The Sniper cursed, scrabbling back. "Psyker!"

He got on his vox and started babbling into the general communications channel. "Confirmed psyker on corner of 4th and Sanguinius! I repeat, confirmed psyker on corner of 4th and Sanguinius! Requesting immediate assistance!"

The Sniper scrambled away from his ledge as confused acknowledgements came through his micro-bead. He turned it to max volume and threw it in the opposite direction he was fleeing in. As he hoped, the Guardians turned towards the noise and he made his escape back into a different building.

The psyker was someone else's problem. He'd find something else to shoot.