Basil and Druthact circled one another, oblivious to the sounds and heat of battle around them. Shuriken and rocket propelled bolts flew through the air. Lightning and blasts of fire erupted from the Farseers of Rubha Àird Driseig as they waged a psychic war against one another. Molten fire erupted from the Avatar of Khaine each time it was hit.
But none of that mattered.
Each had raised his own kyne shield to protect himself from the random violence of the surrounding battle, leaving the two opponents with only each other to worry about. Strike followed strike, and block followed block, with Druthact's Singing Spear humming along as it met the Nemesis Force Halberd in Basil's hands as they danced around one another.
Lightning rained down upon Basil but he simply dismissed it with a thought and rained fire down on Druthact in turn. But the ancient entity was up to the task and dismissed the fire just as easily as Basil had dismissed the lightning.
And faster they turned.
Each moving impossibly fast and each psychically sensing the flow of the other and the flow of time. Each knowing where to block and where to strike and in perfect time with the other. Basil felt his body begin to dissolve and then sought to shred Druthact's soul. Round and round they went.
Reality shifted under the weight of their will.
Scholomance changed its very nature and essence as they battled. It became the void of space and then the interior of a volcano. It was a hundred different worlds and none. First Basil chased Druthact and then their roles were reversed as they stepped through Reality and various dimensions of existence. Passed through time itself. Every blow each struck at his opponent could have split a Titan or a mountain but every blow missed or was blocked. Basil changed the laws of Reality within their battle radius so as to finish Druthact but the entity changed them again, putting Basil at a disadvantage. Back and forth they went.
Until finally, they returned to the chamber in Scholomance. Face to face and eye to eye. Singing Spear locked with Nemesis Halberd. Each breathing heavily. Each perfectly matched with the other.
Then Basil felt it.
Felt the offering and he snatched it. Snatched the psychic might that she offered to him. Offered to him at risk to herself in her battle with the other Farseers of her home. The next moment, his Halberd moved impossibly fast and slipped past the Singing Spear, slipped past the psychic shield, running through Druthact's heart. And Basil emptied the weight of his will into Druthact through the Halberd, shattering the entity's psychic core.
Druthact stumbled back and the Halberd tip slipped out of his chest as he did so. He would have fallen but he was caught by a long, slender purple arm that ended in an enormous claw. An arm that was attached to a six-metre-tall body topped by an avian head surrounded by a halo of horns. Caorthannach in all its wicked glory.
She has been waiting so long for you, Caorthannach psychically said, the weight of its will making its message audible to all. You know she loves you, the Keeper continued with its sultry voice. You were a part of her since before she was born until that wicked Serpent separated you from her. And she wants you back! Caorthannach's other claw was poised to enter Druthact's chest, but not to take his heart. Rather to grasp his psychic core and remove it from his body.
"Never!" Druthact screamed, a cry which the Keeper met with a laugh. "I will never be her slave. She will never be my Mistress!"
The Keeper continued to laugh and reached into Druthact's chest. But then, a second laugh joined its laugh. A knowing echo that lay wholly within the Empyrean. A mocking laugh. The Keeper did not understand and so it ignored the echo.
"She cannot have me!" Druthact proclaimed even as Caorthannach's claw reached within his form and grabbed hold of his psychic essence. And then he uttered a Word. A Word from the Language of Creation which echoed across the chamber and brought all to a halt. And with that Word, Druthact ceased to exist as an entity of the Empyrean. And the echo of laughter just as quickly ended too.
The Keeper pulled it clawed hand from Druthact's limp and lifeless body and dropped it to the chamber floor. "This cannot be," it proclaimed in shock.
"It can be and is," Basil answered with one hand on the Oculus and power flowing through him. "Now, I will do what I could not before." He reached into the Oculus and grasped some of the power it was focused on…and he fashioned a prison of Order about the Keeper's psychic essence. But where he had been less-skilled and not so powerful when he had tried to destroy the Keeper before, those limitations no longer existed. He crushed the prison of Order down upon the Keeper. Its screams echoed throughout the chamber but were to no avail. Basil spoke a Word of Power that was matched with his psychic prison and Caorthannach ceased to exist in the Empyrean. The Keeper was no more, wiped from the Warp.
Basil took his hand off the Oculus and looked around.
The dead were everywhere. Aspect Warriors and Corsairs. He did not know their names but their stories floated to him on the Warp. Stormtroopers and walker pilots. Cade Lerriksen, Basil realized with dismay. I was so busy with this battle I did not even notice your passing. He looked at the golden warrior lying next to the pile of slag which was the destroyed Avatar of Khaine. Ilyas, Basil said in his mind. You were but a replica who never had the opportunity to live and love and now you are dead…for me. He looked at the still standing members of the Council of Farseers who governed Rubha Àird Driseig and was forced to admit what he knew to already be true when he glanced at Siân's corpse on the ground. She's really dead, Basil told herself. She gave me her power just as I gave mine to her the first time we met. And, just like me, she died for it. Only she isn't a perpetual like me.
But something called to Basil, a feeling, a compulsion.
He turned around and stared at the Oculus. Power was still connected to it, the power of the Ritual. He could see the rising entropy in the Empyrean. See the power of thousands of psykers in orbit that was about to be added to it. He could see that the Chimaera's Breath was growing. Could see the spirits of the Exodites being pulled from the damaged Spirits of their worlds. The Ritual was still growing and out of control.
How can I end this? Basil asked himself.