A/N

Boo-hoo-hoo, I'm dying inside.

It. Is. Not. Curze. Even though bringing the Night Haunter back from the dead is plausible, I've no intention of touching that. But then again, that's partly my fault for describing it as such, so I apologize. Anyway, I'm back up from a hiatus and ready with another update. Should have plenty of spare time now that I'm stuck at home, courtesy of the Coronavirus. Don't worry, I'm not sick just advised to stay indoors until this whole thing blows over, and I don't plan on changing that any time soon.

I just hope and pray the same goes for everyone out there, and that this virus dies out without harming anybody else this year. Be safe out there, dear readers!

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In the shade of alien fruit-trees, covered from the warm sunlight of a red star, an eldar sought communion with his goddess in the serenity brought upon by the isolated spot. Gifted with the peace of mind that none of the Craftworlds could ever offer, as could be found only upon the Maiden Worlds of the Eldar Exodites, among the immortal people free from the shackles brought upon by the Prince of Excess, Acha'menid had no trouble roaming the vast spirit realm created by the collective souls that largely formed the beating heart of the planet itself.

Here, he and so many other uniquely psychically attuned seers, found solace in the presence of the newly freed Goddess Isha. The millennia of her absence hurt the Exodites more than their fellows cursed with lax morals. Her unprecedented return had been welcomed and celebrated, though naturally in the only way the Exodites knew how- through quiet communion and meditation. Isha, ever the doting mother to her lost children, took every opportunity to bring them with her to the great sanctuary of serenity that was the Gardens of Isha. Their visits, though oft would never last long, were a kindness in the dark age they lived in, but the Exodites took great comfort in the one gift Isha blessed them with- salvation for the souls of all their hallowed dead.

The story of how she was saved from the clutches of the enemy had been largely ignored, due in no small part to the shared animosity the aeldari felt for the humans. Their denial saddened the goddess, though she remained undeterred from convincing them of the hidden benevolence mankind had to offer.

The Maiden Worlds provided an immeasurably vast space for their dead to fill, their only safeguard against the hunger of Slaanesh. In times past this served as the fate of all eldar who lived and died. Now, their fates lay in the golden fields of the goddess. Indeed, the Exodites held this as the greatest gift her children could ever have, and felt they deserved after suffering for all those years. The dead could live on in the embrace of the goddess, while the living plod on with their lives and yearn for that sweet release.

"They are the lucky ones."

Acha'menid nodded without opening his eyes. The sound of bare feet scraping the dirt beside him reached his ears, alerting him to the presence of his mentor, a wanderer whose loyalty was now pledged to the Exodites who welcomed him when no other kinsmen would. Tolosai knew what Acha'menid thought of the most as of late, and proceeded to lecture him on what was proper. "Do not covet the gifts of the dead, yours shall come in due time as the goddess wills it. While you yet walk this world, you shall serve as all aeldari should."

"I know this, and I have not forgotten my purpose." Acha'menid replied, "But even you cannot deny the envy you feel for the dead, how they know true happiness where we continue to face this bleak future."

Tolosai pulled his robes together that he might kneel properly upon the ground beside his pupil, "Other, lesser kinsmen would. But not I. Follow my example, Acha'menid. Death is a reward, but will be given to those most deserving. Seizing this prize by rushing into the abyss demeans the purpose set by the goddess. Isha holds all life sacred, as should we all."

The younger eldar bowed his head and considered his mentor's words carefully, "I will remember this, my master."

"See that you do." Tolosai replied, "I won't always be around to remind you should you forget."

"You are not yourself today, master." Acha'menid observed, noticing his mentor's downcast expression for the first time. "What troubles you?"

Tolosai closed his eyes and breathed deeply of the crisp morning air. "The nights bring me no sleep, but torments me with dreams filled with terror and screams."

"I too am plagued with the nightmares."Acha'menid said. "An ill omen, for sure."

"You are quite certain we share the same dream, then?" Tolosai inquired.

"I dreamed of the end, master." Acha'menid replied, "Rhana Dandra, the End of Days. Our end, the price paid for the destruction of our enemies. This, you saw?"

Tolosai recalled the damnable images burned into his mind from night after night of sleeplessness, of brutal awakenings as his dreams took their physical toll on him every morning, turning him into the wreck that he was now. "Our dreams have meaning, often times never taken at their face value. No, they are the words of the gods, and must be considered carefully lest we interpret them falsely."

"The words of the gods are never sure." Acha'menid scoffed.

"Perhaps, but be glad that we receive any word at all." The eldar master reminded his pupil, "For truly it shall be a dark time indeed when the day comes that we call to the stars and hear only silence."

Acha'menid looked up to the skies of the Maiden World and saw a bright flash of light among the fading stars of the morning, "Behold, then, how the stars answer!"

Both master and student stared in wonder as a mighty construct was spat out of the abyss and hurled down to earth with the force of a dismounted comet! Larger and larger grew the flaming construct, picking up speed as the world pulled it close to its ever-welcoming embrace, until its form could be better seen by those who looked up from the ground. Tolosai and Acha'menid recognized the construct as a derelict Craftworld ark, designed to house thousands of refugee aeldari in the event of a catastrophe that threatened their Craftworld's existence. Its arrival did not bode well, for it meant that another Craftworld had fallen victim to the enemy, and its presence upon the Maiden World would surely attract unwanted attention.

The ark descended and struck the ground with such force that the earth shook and buckled under the sudden impact of a construct the size of a small celestial body. Whole mountains of stone, rock and sand were broken free and flung into the air, while clouds of dust pushed debris miles and miles over the impact zone. The land shuddered all the while the ark slid across the plains it had landed upon until it finally came to rest upon the banks of a massive lake, close to the mighty domed city of Asegai, home to Acha'menid and thousands of other Exodites.

It didn't take long for the inhabitants of the city to muster together an expeditionary force to investigate the crash-site. Acha'menid and his master volunteered to accompany the Dragon Warriors sent to the fallen ark, eager to aid their unfortunate aeldari cousins who may have survived the crash as well as to sate their curiosity about what caused the ark to fall in the first place.

They only realized later, however, the dark force responsible for such a catastrophe.

Upon approaching the vicinity of the crash-site, amidst burning debris and smoky ruins of heated rock and upturned trees, a loud groan came from within the massive vessel. Wraithbone and metal bent and broke from the weight of a heavy hand pushing through the sundered hull, revealing a glorious, glamorous being that towered above the Dragon Warriors gaping in awe at its splendor.

His skin was smooth like burnished bronze, and gleamed like the face of polished glass. The Warp bled through the giant's wounds in place of blood, and seethed visibly through his hating eyes. When he spoke, it was like the roar of a thundering monsoon, intent on washing away all who heard him. "Come out, little Senua! Your incessant attempts at low cunning like your half-kin demeans the glory of this moment!"

"That is no mere giant." Tolosai declared, brandishing his lance and readying his mount to charge. "That is a daemon, who stems directly from our greatest enemy."

"Proceed with caution then." A dragon knight acknowledged. The daemon had not noticed them yet, but this did little to make it any less of a threat to the Exodites. The Dragon Warriors spurred their mounts forward and attacked the daemon, unaware of the greater danger it posed, for this one was no mere daemon- but the Daemon Prince Fulgrim, fallen king of man and favored servant of Excess.

Favored once, now too have fallen out of favor with his patron, hence his desperation to put on a better show while Slaanesh watched from beyond the veil. His burning wrath, one he reserved for the impish half-breed that kept eluding him, now turned against the hapless Exodites. Brandishing a hateful weapon roaring with the flames of oblivion, Fulgrim fell upon the brave but foolish warriors in a bloody display of sadistic sport.

Hidden from the daemon prince, limping out of the wreck some fifty meters away from the battle, Senua helped drag her teacher's unconscious body away and into the safety of the trees. The crash had violently throttled Tamila and knocked her out. Senua saw to her injuries quickly and moved to secure her from the wreck. When they reached the trees, the young woman glanced out at the Exodites battling against the daemon prince. Her father, Liivi, nursed a broken arm and a handful of fractured ribs, but was determined to see his daughter saved from Fulgrim's wrath. He knew her heart, and how she would act when presented with the choice.

Risk herself for a small squad of dragon warriors, and possibly die at the hands of the daemon prince, or live to fight another day.

"I have to help them." Senua whispered, watching the struggle and preparing herself for battle.

Ignoring the biting agony in his side with the sudden movement of his arm, Liivi grabbed his daughter by the hand and said quietly. "Senua. Stay."

"Father, they will die if I stand by and do nothing!" Senua hissed.

"But you will live." Liivi answered, "Listen to me and help me drag the seer away while the daemon's preoccupied."

Her father would not loose his grip on her hand, and her eyes narrowed as the cries of the dying eldar reached her ears. Liivi visibly recoiled, he saw Taldeer through his child's eyes, heard her voice as she chastised him for what she saw as cowardice. "Let go of me."

"I will not!" Liivi rasped, "Your destiny lies not among the dead, and I'll be damned before I let your fate be decided by that fucking daemon!" Horrified at the thought of losing what he held most dear and all he had left, Liivi held on with all the strength he could muster, but Senua slipped free all the same. Liivi fell, snarling angrily. "Damn it, girl! Get back here!"

The pain was too much, and Liivi laid down to wrestle for air, watching on helplessly as Senua grabbed her sword and fearlessly charged after the daemon. "Damn your stubbornness, my love!" He gasped, cursing all the foolish things his daughter took after her mother.

As he laid there, gasping for breath, Liivi's eye caught movement in the brush next to him. The dark-clad forms of aeldari warriors, slowly revealed by the light of the morning, emerged from the forest. Liivi stared, hope growing in his heart, as he realized that these were Eldar Dark Reapers, and led by none other than the Harvester of Souls himself- Maugan Ra.

If he was here personally, it meant he was hunting Fulgrim.

"Death has come for the daemon prince." Liivi whispered.

The piercing gaze of the Phoenix Lord met the Vindicare's own, "Indeed." Intent on accomplishing their intended task, the Reapers ignored the human and stepped over him and the still form of the Farseer Tamila.

The Reapers had arrived on the Maiden World weeks before the crash, guided by the portents of their seers to put a stop to a possible future that could mean the destruction of the Maiden World itself and summon a Warp storm that could very well threaten all other Exodite worlds hidden in the same sector. Maugan Ra accepted the task personally, his reasons known only to himself and his small circle of confidants. The Exodites, of course, had no knowledge of their presence upon the Maiden World, and their arrival on the battleground came as a surprise.

Maugan Ra paused for a moment to watch as the half-breed fought alone against the daemon prince, amidst the fallen and slain dragon warriors who stood little to no chance against Fulgrim. He had heard of someone banishing the daemon prince to the Warp in the Flight of Calmainoc, though he never imagined it would be from the hands of a young one tainted with the blood of a human. He believed the tales now, watching the young one duel against the powers of the Empyrean and wielding the warp in the palm of her hand with such ease. She, of course, would never last long against Fulgrim alone, unless the Reapers intervened.

"Interesting." He whispered, then let loose a torrent of mono-molecular blasts from the terrible scythe-cannon known as Maugetar.

Senua cried out in surprise as the torrent narrowly missed her and struck Fulgrim in the face. The young woman dove down instinctively to allow the Reapers to continue their bloody work. Surrounding the already grievously wounded daemon-primarch, the Reapers unleashed volley after volley in rapid succession, intent on reducing the daemon's mortal form into a fine red paste. Enraged and fueled by the pain, Fulgrim forgot his quarry and vanished in a cloud of violet smoke, cackling madly as he fled into the Warp. He would return some time in the future, but for now would lick his wounds and dress his shattered pride, again.

The Maiden World's future was secured.

Maugan Ra looked down at the surviving dragon warriors and found all but two had survived the daemon's onslaught. Master Tolosai and one other knight beheld their great fortune, and mourned the tragic fate that befell their kin who were not as blessed as they. Tolosai, especially, grieved the loss of his pupil, who was the first to die at the hands of Fulgrim. Young Acha'menid achieved what he coveted most.

The Phoenix Lord approached Senua, who rose up from where she fell and dusted off her muddied robes. He regarded her curiously, "How did a half-breed like you rise to such prominence?" Maugan Ra was testing her in the common manner any aeldari would test someone, and fortunately for Senua, she was raised with thick skin and did not take offense so easily. She smiled humorlessly and did not answer.

The Dark Reaper found little amusement in her reply and growled, "Find your tongue, girl, for you stand before a Phoenix Lord."

Again, she ignored him and moved to help the dragon warriors she had saved from the daemon-primarch. Tolosai bowed his head respectfully and thanked her, a rare thing for any aeldari to show especially to a half-breed, that which equates their society's pariah. "We owe you our lives, my lady, for intervening on our behalf." He turned to the Reapers and gave them their due measure of gratitude. "And to you, my lords. Thank you for vanquishing the daemon."

"Ask of us what we might do to repay this debt." The other knight said to Senua.

"My teacher and father have been injured in the crash." The half-breed was quick to reply, "Aiding in their transportation to a medical facility would be much appreciated."

"It shall be so." Tolosai bowed again, preparing the one spare mount to hoist up the injured refugees of Ulthwe to bring with them to Asegai. He turned to begin their departure by first bading farewell to the Reapers, "My lords, may the Goddess Isha preserve you. Farewell, we take our leave."

The Reapers offered no gesture nor word of affirmation, customarily answering only with silent stares as the little group rode for the domed city. Maugan Ra met Senua's mocking gaze for the last time and seethed. A curious little thing indeed. Though she irked him, she was inconsequential. They had gotten what they came for, the planet was safe. But Maugan Ra made a mental note to keep an eye on the half-breed, not only because her capabilities intrigued him but because of the apparent interest the daemon prince held for her.


The lake was so vast, its shorelines faded to nothing in the distance. The only other land to be seen was a smattering of pale islands, connected to each other by a network of bridges.

The finest wine served as water in this lake but no cups waited to be filled. The bouquet of the wine was strong, pleasant, and enticing. Most visitors took very little time before they gave up on the idea of cups and fell to their knees to drink directly from the lake. Heads swam with delightful intoxication, many continued to drink until they slipped into the waters and sank below the surface, never to be seen again.

Those who were able to lift their heads from the wine cast their gaze more closely on the islands and see them for what they are - hunched giants holding aloft great tables heaped with extravagant feasts. Exotic fruits, rich breads, and meats of every kind were present.

Swimming to these islands was perilous, and many whose senses have become wine-addled sank beneath the waves, joining the countless others who have slipped beneath the carmine liquid. For the ones that made it, the reward was astonishing.

Each bite was better than the finest meal they have ever experienced. Each morsel was a decadent delight for the tongue. Faster and faster the wayward consumed the food. All around her, voracious eaters forced handful after handful down their throats. In their blind need to consume, they did not notice that some of the meat came from carcasses with an all-too-familiar form.

Even if they were to somehow stop forcing food into their own stomachs long enough to recognize the fate that awaited them, none could stop. Given completely over to gluttonous indulgence, they only stopped eating when their body finally fails, collapsing into the feast and awaiting the next hungry diner.

Aggregia recoiled in horror at the sinful decadence she was forced to watch, unable to run as she seemed to be glued to the ground like a statue. A powerful presence radiated beside her like the warmth of a burning flame, and the young woman looked up to see the same visitor of her dreams stand by her like a watchful guardian.

She didn't like it here, for it reeked of something evil, the likes of which Aggregia could not fathom.

"Haven't I told you to be careful where you tread?" The red giant asked quietly.

"Can one control where one's dreams take them?" Aggregia sighed.

"Incorrect." The giant replied, "The blood of a god flows through your veins, and the realm of dreams answers to your beckoning. You only have to say the words, and reality will shift to your will."

The once beautiful land shattered like the face of a mirror, revealing the ugliness beneath it all. Aggregia did not recoil at this, for she had always known the darkness lurking beneath the false beauty. She turned to the giant, "I want to leave this place."

"It will keep pulling you back unless you tell it otherwise." His single glowing eye shone like a lantern in the night, "Words hold power, this is your gift. The universe listens, and only waits to be commanded."

Aggregia looked up at him thoughtfully and spoke in a voice she'd never heard speak from her mouth, "Bring me back."


Horus looked up curiously as a shaft of lightning tore its way through the sky, brightening up the dark clouds heavy with unprecedented rain. The storm battered hard against the countryside, with such speed that bordered on the unnatural. The party had fallen asleep through the troubled night, the storm arrived not long after. The peal of thunder was deafening, but not enough to mask the mutterings of his daughter as she tossed and turned in her corner.

When she suddenly sat up, jarred awake by some fevered dream, the faint patter of rainfall ceased, and the darkened skies suddenly parted to let the morning rays shine upon the land.

Horus gave his daughter an incredulous look and spoke softly in concern. "Are you alright, my dear?"

Aggregia glanced around, confused for a moment, before answering dismissively.

"Yeah." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yeah, I'm alright."

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