Hello again dear readers! Came here to present the second chapter of this journey with you guys, this one we get introduced to the other characters of the story, alongside more of our main antagonists.
Thanks for giving me a chance, and also for the reviews, follows, and favorites. I hope to maintain the quality and attend to your expectations with this story.
PS: Thanks BillyFish1409 and Boyo99 for all your support! If you haven't read their stories yet go read it! It's incredible I guarantee you.
Now let's proceed to our chapter, enjoy!
Shadows of the Dark City Chapter 2
A significant amount of time had passed since they were thrown into this dark room. Nothing major had happened since Janessa had her eye gouged out. The guards typically kept a watchful eye on the prisoners scattered around the room.
Now that his mind was no longer fogged by the concussion, Marcus began to notice the strange organization of the room. Many of the guardsmen hooked to the walls wore badges of the SP4, the Supply Station unit. The dried blood on the metal hooks indicated they had been here before Marcus and his group arrived.
This realization only deepened Marcus' questions about the fate of his unit and why they were confined in these cages. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the Corporal whispering his name.
"Captain, are you awake?"
Marcus nodded at Ellias, casting a cautious glance at the corporal.
"What do you think happened to our brothers, Captain?"
Marcus tried not to grimace at the question, but it was inevitable. Although he didn't know their exact fate, he was certain that whatever had happened was horrific.
"I don't know, Corporal. And if I were you, I would stop talking."
The Captain whispered, hoping not to attract the guards' attention, though he suspected they could hear everything. He quickly peeked at the Eldar guards at the door to ensure they weren't paying attention.
"Why? We've been here for Emperor knows how long, probably headed for a painful death, and you're just going to sit there and let them get you!?" Ellias demanded, his voice rising as his temper flared at the Captain's apparent indifference.
Marcus looked around frantically, holding the bars and trying to shush him with a finger to his lips, signaling the Corporal to be quiet.
"We are going to BRUTALLY DIE! AND YOUR ONLY WORRY IS TO AVOID GETTING THESE FRAKKIN BASTARDS' ATTEN..."
Ellias was abruptly cut off as a high-voltage stick was pressed against the back of his head. The electric current surged through his body, causing him to convulse and foam at the mouth. He quickly fell limp in his cage, unconscious. The guard who had shocked the Corporal cackled before returning to his post by the door.
Once everything settled, Doc discreetly put his hands out of his cage checking Ellias's pulse, moving quietly to reach the Corporal's arm that hung out of the cage. When he felt the heartbeat, he sighed in relief. The Combat medic turned to Marcus and nodded, indicating that Ellias was fine.
Silence filled the room once more, leaving the Officer alone with his observations and thoughts.
He was jolted awake by the sound of hissing doors. An entourage of Eldar entered, led by an imposing figure who seemed to be their leader. The Xeno moved around the room, showcasing the soldiers stuck to the walls, along with others in the darkest corners.
Marcus couldn't understand their strange language, but he knew that bastard was presenting these men as merchandise. Soon, they stopped at their cages, and the white-haired Eldar stared at them while the entourage behind him took a closer look.
One of the bizarre Xenos at the back, with six arms and a mechanical mouth, spoke in that cursed tongue again.
"A bheil iad sin air an gabhail a-steach ann an aonta tigerna Vex?"
Hearing this, the imposing being turned his attention to the group of humans.
"Are you four part of the Mon-Keigh who killed my men and destroyed part of my Jetbike escort?"
The white-haired demon spoke perfect Low Gothic in a cold, calculating tone. Marcus had learned throughout his life in the Guard how to read people properly, a crucial skill for prolonged survival on the frontlines. Crossing the wrong person, whether enemy or ally, could mean the difference between living another day to fight or being executed and thrown into a ditch. Knowing this, Marcus understood that any wrong move could mean a very painful end at the hands of these Xenos.
"We are, Sir," Marcus answered quickly, preventing Ellias from jumping in and saying something that could get them killed. The being's eyes widened in confusion for a moment before his usual cold indifference returned. The Eldar turned around, addressing one of the guards.
"Nach eil ach na ceithir sin air fhàgail den fheadhainn a ghlac sinn?"
The guard responded quickly, his tone seemingly apologetic.
"A dhuine uasail, b' iad sin na chaidh againn air a thoirt an seo mus do rinn na Kabalites dìoghaltas airson ar call..."
The warrior was cut short as his leader swiftly drew a gun from his belt and shot the Eldar in the face. Marcus was baffled, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Although he was no stranger to summary executions, the reason for this white-haired Xeno killing his comrade was a complete mystery.
The headless body fell to the ground, and the imposing figure holstered his gun. Just as spontaneously as the act of fratricide, it ended as the alien resumed addressing the entourage behind him.
"Tha na feòil sin airson an raon. Bidh na h-ath rudan tarraingeach anns an taisbeanadh a chuir mo nighean Elyria air adhart."
The six-armed abomination nodded at his words. The entourage soon left the room, leaving the four guardsmen alone with a Xeno corpse just a few feet from their cage.
"Well, whatever this sucker said, he got what he deserved," Ellias remarked, spitting on the body.
"Who were those guys?" Janessa asked, her voice coarse and sorrowful, speaking for the first time since the incident.
The Captain smiled, relieved to hear her voice again, something he had feared he might never hear.
"I don't know. But I think our time in this dark room is nearing its end."
Just as he finished speaking, a group of guards followed the black-haired female as she stepped into the room. Each of her steps exuded confidence, and every move appeared calculated to assert her dominance. The raven-haired woman carried herself with the assurance of someone who had faced countless battles and emerged victorious.
Standing in front of their cages, she addressed them with an authoritative voice in Low Gothic:
"We have arrived at our destination. I will personally escort you all to the arena."
She pointed to the guards and their cages, speaking in an inaudible whisper. The guard beside her acknowledged her orders before picking up a small black device with a green button. He clicked it, prompting the four cages to open with a loud 'click'.
Marcus stood up, preparing to leave the confinement of the cold metal bars, but he was stopped by the Xeno woman's threatening tone.
"However, I must warn you, Mon-keigh, against attempting anything. If you don't comply with my orders, death will be a mercy compared to what I will personally do to you. So be good, well-behaved animals and form a line in front of Karak here."
She pointed to the same Eldar who held a device, it was a strange double-rounded apparatus. Marcus was the first in line, wanting to delay any possible suffering for his friends. The Imperial stood and faced the being called Karak, who quickly placed the device on both of his wrists handcuffing him.
The metal cuffs hummed to life, connected by a strand of what appeared to be an electric current, changing colors between blue, green, and red at intervals. Next, the guard picked up a piece of black cloth, prompting Marcus to turn around as he was blindfolded.
He was then grabbed on both sides by what he imagined were two guards and dragged along the ground. Unable to see, the only sounds Marcus heard were the opening doors and his boots scraping the metal floor.
It was oddly silent throughout the journey to his destination. Marcus wasn't sure if he felt relieved or worried about the absence of screams and horrible sounds. His heartbeat drummed in his ears alongside the sound of his own and the Xenos' breathing. Their steps were almost inaudible to his trained ears which further unsettled him.
After being turned left and right through what seemed like a maze of corridors, he finally heard another door opening and felt a gust of cold wind hit his face, providing momentary relief.
However, dread soon filled him again as he was bombarded by the nightmarish cacophony surrounding him. If sound alone was anything to go by, he was sure this place was hell itself. Screams, moans, and anguished cries surrounded him, coming from all directions. The worst part was that these screams seemed to come from around and inside himself, as if his soul, just by being there, was crying out in despair, trying to claw away at his flesh and leave his body.
It was one of the worst sensations of his life, and that was saying much, given that he had already been shot twice and broken enough bones to create a second Marcus. His breath became labored as he was dragged towards his impending doom.
"Emperor, defend your servant from imminent peril. In this hour of need, as a son of Cadia, I seek your comfort. Protect your, oh so fragile and impure servant."
He prayed in whispers, begging the Emperor to grant him a quick death, to free him from the vile Xenos' grasp, and to release him into the ever-waiting fray for the glory of humanity.
The hellish procession continued as the gust of cold wind hit Marcus' face. He felt as if he were marching toward the guillotine, each step of the guards holding him making his insides churn with sheer stress and terror. Even the air smelled of death—not the specific scent of a dead body or guts, but an abstract odor that seemed to embody death itself.
However, they stopped, and the guards became completely immobile while holding him. They waited in complete silence for something unknown to the Captain. Every passing second deepened the dreadful feeling in his gut and images of being brutally maimed played in his mind as they stood there silently.
'They could easily torture or kill me if these bastards wanted,' Marcus thought, his eyes frantically moving side to side behind the blindfold. He panicked as his mind imagined horrific scenarios like what had been done to Janessa. Cold sweat dripped from his temples as he panted in sheer anguish, his body shivering with each terrifying thought.
The Officer was so caught up in his fears that he failed to notice the presence of others behind him. What he also failed to notice was that the tall Xeno woman was now standing in front of him.
Her scent quickly gave away her presence, and she was speaking to someone in that foul language.
"Bidh Elyria Vex a' toirt a-steach i fhèin don raon. Thug mi feòil dhan chuirm."
Soon after, the loud sound of doors opening could be heard as another gust of wind, different from the cold air around them, but warm in an unpleasant way, hit them. The smell that flooded his nostrils was horrible—a mix of decaying flesh and spoiled meat.
Marcus would have vomited if he had anything in his stomach, but he couldn't dwell on his own sickness as the guards resumed their march. This time, he heard more than just the two guards dragging him; he knew that behind him was a group of people, likely his soldiers and their respective guards. Alongside this procession, the sound of heeled boots was loud, louder than the clinking armor of the ones holding him.
The female was guiding them somewhere, probably their final resting place if the smell was any indication. But soon, the procession stopped as she clapped. The moment the Xeno did that, the guards roughly released them onto the ground, their bodies hitting the ground hard.
Marcus was the first to get up, trying to maintain his composure in the current situation. Soon, all the humans were on their feet, with Janessa being the last, as he could hear her struggling to stand.
"Bidh Karak a' toirt air falbh na sùilean aca."
The moment the raven-haired woman said that Marcus felt a cold, armored hand untie the knot of the cloth covering his eyes, revealing for the first time where they were.
The room they were in was poorly lit with a sickly green light. It was a small chamber that barely fit them all. The walls were smooth black, and a huge rune-like symbol was painted on a banner made from a strange type of beige leather.
Taking in as much information as possible, the Captain looked around, searching for anything useful to ascertain their current fate. His observations were cut short as the tall Eldar woman addressed them in a loud and intimidating voice.
"Welcome to Commorrogah, Mon-keighs! We don't have much time for pleasantries, so I'll cut this whole thing short, yes?"
While speaking, she circled them with long, slow steps, scrutinizing each one of them. With an analyzing look, the Xeno observed their reactions while continuing her speech.
"You're in one of our arenas. You lot were chosen to be today's contestants alongside other meat we managed to gather for our weekly Lith'antu Khlavh."
After completing one lap around them, she stopped in front of Marcus, staring right into his soul as she venomously uttered her next words:
"We expect you all to die in the first seconds of our main attraction today. If you manage by some random strand of luck to survive, you will all be formally marked as slaves of the Cult of Strife. But don't worry; after that, it will get a lot worse. I assure you, pathetic Mon-keigh."
With a sudden shift in mood and a very pleasant smile, the tall Xeno woman stepped back, looking at all the guardsmen.
"So be certain to die today! Believe me, it will be better to be mauled and torn apart than to continue breathing. Any questions?"
Marcus started raising his hand as she simply pushed a button, and his cuffs shone a bright light. The moment it did, searing pain coursed through his body. The Captain instantly fell to the ground; the sensation was like having his skin burned by acid and then scraped with a serrated knife.
The armored Xenos laughed while watching him thrash on the floor in pain. Then, he heard a click, and the pain abruptly stopped. Lying on the ground, he saw the sadistic Xeno woman staring down at him with a look of disgust.
"Any more of you filthy animals want to waste my time?"
Only silence greeted her.
"Good, now stay here in this room like good obedient pets. The event will start shortly."
She marched away from Marcus, and the guards began to follow her out of the room. Before the raven-haired woman left, she turned one last time and, with familiar disgust, addressed his squad.
"Pick his sorry ass up from the ground and clean him. We don't want a drooling idiot performing in the Lith'antu Khlavh."
Those were her last words as she left the room, a heavy black smooth door closing behind her, trapping them inside. Ellias was the first to speak:
"What a bitch."
"Tell me about it," Marcus struggled to say as he tried to raise himself from the ground. Janessa and Doc quickly stepped up to help him to his feet again.
"So, we're frakked from what I can gather. We're stuck in Emperor knows where about to fight in an arena for a lithu-something."
Dusting himself off, Marcus glanced at Ellias while adjusting his uniform.
"That's basically it."
While they were talking, Doc was examining the Captain to see if he had suffered any injury.
"What surprises me more is, where is the rest of our unit? I saw many of us being dragged inside their ship, so there should be more of our regiment."
The Specialist spoke in a calm, puzzled manner while checking Marcus' heartbeats.
"Certainly dead," Ellias answered without hesitation.
Janessa angrily turned towards the Corporal.
"What makes you believe so? Have you seen their corpses by chance?"
This prompted a very angry response from the Guardsman.
"Have you looked around? Or at yourself!? All we've seen since we woke up inside that damned ship is death, pain, and suffering. What do you honestly believe happened to them? Do you expect them to be safe and sound just behind that door!?"
Janessa quickly punched the Corporal in the face, momentarily disorienting him. As the shock wore off, Ellias turned to return the blow, but Marcus stepped between them.
"Enough."
The Officer's face was filled with authority worthy of a seasoned Commissar. This managed to quell the conflict before it escalated, with both soldiers retreating to opposite sides of the room.
"If you're both going to act like children, you picked the worst possible time. We're frakked more than ever before! For the love of the Emperor, act like frakking soldiers."
The tired officer simply went to a corner to sit and compose himself for the upcoming battle. His hand once again reached for the book in his pocket, the only source of comfort in this dire moment.
He heard the sound of scraping cloth and looked to his right. Doc sat beside him.
"Be patient with them. It's not every day that you're captured by Dark Eldar."
Marcus turned to him in confusion.
"Dark Eldar?"
"Yeah, nasty bunch. One of the worst, if not the actual worst, in the galaxy."
The Captain turned his full attention towards the specialist.
"What do you know about them?"
"Not much, just that it's better to kill yourself than to be captured by one."
This deepened the already numbing dread in his stomach. Marcus started to breathe heavily, Doc's words echoing in his mind.
"Are you certain?"
"Well, if what the field manual said is true, then..."
"Field manual? What do you mean by that?"
"The one you receive together with your standard equipment, the little yellow-paged book."
"What? Frakk, I lost mine in my first campaign!"
He gripped his head in frustration from never reading the manual in its entirety. Most of the things he remembered concerned personal grooming and weapon maintenance, never managing to read the part on basic xenology.
If Marcus knew, he may have blown himself up before being captured. Now he would not be in this situation...
His thoughts were cut short as a raspy voice sounded through the walls.
"The Lith'antu Khlavh will start. The weapons you will use are present on the wall. You have 30 seconds to prepare. May your blood and entrails stain the grounds of the holy arena."
After the voice started speaking the cuffs around their wrists fell to the ground, and the wall opposite Marcus shifted, molding itself to reveal a rack of guns. A complete set of lasguns, and laspistols appeared on it. They seemed to form themselves from thin air, confusing all the Imperials present.
Not wanting to waste time, the Captain and his fellow soldiers rushed to arm themselves. As the guardsmen sorted their gear, a loud hum echoed through the walls as the room itself started to shift and turn. Like clockwork, the walls rotated as the whole room began to move. Like an elevator, they felt their feet stuck to the ground as if they were being raised to an upper level.
Not distracting himself with the weird way the room was shifting, he looked to Janessa to see if she was ready. However, due to the lack of one of her hands, she was struggling to strap the lasgun on her back, and the Captain rushed to help her out.
"Just stay still, Private."
Now Jax was a little better than on the ship, the adrenaline helping her to shake off the trauma and pain from what the Xenos had done to her.
Fixing the strap on her shoulder, the Captain nodded at her, assuring her that she was now fully prepared for their upcoming battle. Soon, the room stopped altogether, the walls and roof silently retracting. This alone made the officer's head struggle to understand how all of this could be possible, but his internal struggle to comprehend ended the moment a strong light shone on his face, followed by the deafening screams of a crowd.
He raised his hand to shield his eyes and looked around. What he saw was beyond anything he had ever expected.
The arena was huge, bigger than a town for sure. The ground was filled with what he believed to be sand, stretching through the fighting area. The walls were filled with sharp metallic spikes and body parts, blood spilled everywhere along the walls and parts of the white ground.
Above the fighting area, the grandstand was filled with thousands, if not a million, people, all cheering and screaming indecipherable words. In each corner of the arena stood groups of fighters from different species, all motionless as if waiting for a signal.
"Are we really going to fight these people?" asked Ellias, gazing at each group with uncertainty.
"...Don't know."
The Captain mumbled, still awestruck by this impossible scenario. Not in a million years could he have made this up. All of their current situation was surreal, even to his standards. Madness was what he called this place, complete and utter madness.
The veteran of so many battles couldn't help but let out a little giggle from his dried lips.
Doc turned to his commander, worry present in his voice.
"Is everything alright, Sir?"
As fleeting as the moment of madness came, it went away. Once again, the officer gained composure, choosing to ignore the specialist's worries to organize their strategy.
"We don't know what our real target is. These frakking bastards are devilish beyond comprehension. So before we do anything, observe closely what will happen. Focus on surviving, not fighting. All of you hear me?"
Janessa and Doc nodded in acknowledgment of their superior's words, but Ellias was hesitant to agree with his captain's approach.
"This is obviously a bloody spectacle. They probably want us to kill each other in the most gruesome ways possible. Why don't we simply shoot these Xenos around us before they can do that?"
Before Marcus could answer his question, an eerie sound played around the arena as an elegant voice spoke as if it were the wind itself.
"To all our Eladrith Ynneas present here, we have the honor to present our sacrifice to the almighty arena!"
The noisy crowd cheered as the light shone through all the white sand. Marcus could feel the ground vibrating under his feet as the numerous Xenos enthusiastically jumped and screamed.
Looking at his fellow guardsmen, he could see they were frantically looking around, utterly lost in such chaos of sounds, sensations, and information.
"The benefactors of this spectacular fight are no other than Kaltharis Vex, the Archon of the Obsidian Fang!"
One of the lights illuminating the arena turned towards the grandstand where an imposing cabin hovered above the crowd. The same white-haired Dark Eldar that Marcus saw on the ship raised himself from his seat, taking a look at the crowd with disdain. The crowd erupted into a frenzy of claps and pure joy. A few seconds passed before the Archon sat himself on the chair once again.
"And how could we forget the deadly and beautiful Elyria Vex of the Cult of Strife! The Queen of the Thrice Blade!"
The same Raven-Head who escorted them stood up with a cruel smile adorning her perfect features. She slowly waved her hand towards the ravenous crowd.
The Captain noticed that he could understand all of what the announcer was saying. Not only that, but also the weird raspy voice that spoke with them before being raised to the arena.
"Are you all understanding what the announcer is saying?"
All of the Imperials nodded in silence to his question, further puzzling him. Until this moment, the Xenos spoke a weird language. Now, it was as if they were speaking perfect Low Gothic.
"I don't know what is happening, but it certainly must be some Xeno witchery," Ellias pointed out. Marcus changed his gaze from the crowd to the other fighters present in the arena. To their left, there was a group of Xenos wearing bright red armor, their gear appearing to be far more technological and refined than theirs.
"Doc, do you know what kind of Xenos are these?" Marcus said while pointing towards them.
"Look, from what I can remember from the manual, they could be the Tau. Weird blue guys with advanced glowy weaponry."
Then the Captain proceeded to point to the next group in front of them. These were reptilian-like beings with multiple limbs. Their heads were bulbous with pitch-black eyes. Each hand had different types of blades ranging from axes to short swords. Their stature was tall, being on average bigger than an Astartes. Doc then thought for a second while staring at the intimidating figures.
"Don't know, but they look nasty."
"Okay, so what about these?"
He then pointed to the group to their right. They were tall and lean, wearing dark robes with dark armor made of a strange material that Marcus knew wasn't steel. The details of their apparel were white, similar to bones. Lean, tall, imposing, and with an air of grace around them.
In front of this group was a figure holding a staff and looking around. For a split second, the Captain's eyes locked with the eyes of this being. He was too far away to precisely discern any particular detail of what this Xenos was wearing, but the way he was being stared at made him feel off as if this being was trying to peer into his very soul.
Shaking off the stare contest, he turned towards Doc, waiting for him to say who these aliens were.
"I'm not sure, but maybe Eldar."
"What do you mean you're not sure?"
"Not sure, can't confirm from this distance, and they are all covered."
Before he could start a chain of questions, the announcer resumed his introduction of the spectacle:
"Today these Mon-keigh and our 'dear' cousins will face the initiates of the Cult of Strife. Once this fight is over, if they manage to finish off all targets, they'll be turned into official members of the cult! We may all well be seeing the new brilliant generation of kings and queens of the arena, ladies and gentlemen!"
Thunderous applause followed his words as the crowd cheered from their seats. The ground started to vibrate as, from the center of the structure, a platform rose with a group of scantily clad warriors standing on top of strange beasts with gnarly mouths filled with razor-sharp teeth.
"With all that being said, the goal of the meat is to be harvested, and the butcher to chop and cut. May the rivers of scarlet flow through the sands of pulverized bone! May the Muses bless us with their brilliance!"
A silence permeated the arena as the crowd anxiously awaited the next words.
"May the blood-letting commence!"
With these words, all hell broke loose. The warriors in the center spread out to engage all parties at the same time. However, only one of the warriors from the center advanced towards Marcus' squad.
The being came running with a spear on his back, quickly gaining ground.
"Form a line and focus all we have on him! Make him regret facing the might of humanity. For the Imperium and the Emperor!"
The soldiers formed a line and unleashed a hail of las fire toward the advancing enemy. He easily dodged the shots, but one of Janessa's shots hit his right shoulder, causing him to lose his balance momentarily.
"Now keep firing until this frakker is dead!"
They fired shot after shot. The warrior was now struggling to keep his balance to evade the new wave of las fire. This time, he got scratched on his legs and arms, making him hiss in pain.
Unfortunately, their lasguns ran out of ammo after they wasted all their shots trying to kill the approaching Xeno. Seeing their desperation in trying to reload, he ran towards them with renewed vigor. He did a backflip, landing behind the group of guardsmen.
They all turned at the same time as the Dark Eldar used the spear to try and slice them in one swing. The Imperials, however, were quicker to escape the killing blow, getting only a shallow cut.
Marcus stumbled, falling on his ass, while his soldiers managed to keep their ground, despite the wound caused by the Xeno blade. The Druchii frowned in frustration, preparing to deliver another blow. But the Guard Veteran was quicker, taking his laspistol from his holster and shooting at the warrior's thigh.
He screamed in agony, realizing his leg had been hit by the energy beam. The sadistic warrior screamed some unintelligible profanity before trying to throw the spear toward the Imperial Captain. However, before he could properly throw, Janessa threw a knife at his neck, lodging it in his trachea, blood spurting out from the blade's sides.
He tried to say something while hatefully staring at the Private, but soon the light in his eyes dulled, his body falling limply to the side. Janessa rushed to pull her knife out from the Druchii's neck, emitting a loud gushing sound as it left the flesh.
"Go to hell, demon spawn!"
She screamed, spitting on the alien's body.
"Good one, Jax! You made him eat dirt!" Ellias punched the air in commemoration of her kill.
"Good... very good." Doc nodded in approval of her skillful kill.
Marcus took notice of her apparent skill with knives; however, his main focus now was not on congratulating the Private, but on the fact that from all the Xenos, only one of the Dark Eldar chose to approach them. Of all who came from the center, just a single one decided to face them.
Then the officer decided to assess the rest of the fight and understood why very easily.
The Tau were managing to end many of the rushing opponents before they could even have a chance to approach their position. Their guns were far better at long-range engagements than their lasguns.
The reptilian beings were massacring them, easily fending off their attackers. Their sheer size and build were powerful enough to put their entire fighting effort to dust, their sharp blades cutting through meat and bone with ease.
But to their right, the Eldar were being overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of fighters coming their way. Their display of fighting prowess was too quick and brutal to properly register in Marcus's mind.
"Why are they not coming?" Ellias asked puzzled by the current absence of enemies.
It was obvious based on the other contestants that the Dark Eldar did not consider than a priority, the Tau were dispatching them from a distance, tearing down their numbers without one single sadistic warrior managing to get to them. The Snake-like warriors were obliterating them as if they were mere toys, and at last the Eldar while fewer than their other counterparts still managed to hold their ground.
"They see us as the lesser threat."
Marcus answered matter of factly while observing the unraveling battlefield.
"What the fuck!?"
The Imperial Corporal exclaimed in protest at his officer's words.
"Years on the front line, more than 42 kills confirmed and many more unconfirmed! I've served on two different deployments and survived, and these Xenos frakkers believe me to be a lesser threat!?"
Marcus only nodded at Ellias's words, still focused on the chaos ensuing in the arena. The Corporal was branding his knuckle to the wind still enraged by the prospect of being considered weak.
"How come I'm not a threat? I killed them before in Arina! I am a threat, you hear me, you filthy sadistic fucks! I'm a..."
"Calm down." The Captain's words broke his Corporal's rant off. Then with a cheeky smile, the seasoned Imperial added:
"This is perfect. If the enemy thinks we're so incompetent that we're not worthy of the same attention or effort as the others," Marcus pointed out towards the fighting happening just in front of their positions, "it creates the perfect opportunity for us to survive this. Let the other Xenos fight this battle over. Like I said before, focus on survival!"
Ellias smiled at his Superior logic, understanding that their underestimation, would end up working in their favor. All of them reloaded their guns, started patching their wounds, and took their time spectating the other fights.
The Tau were doing fine, for the most part, the rushing naked Dark Eldar warriors were being easily killed over by their pulse guns. Their tactical positions and cohesion also helped a lot in their combat effectiveness.
The reptilian warriors were doing just fine slashing at the incoming groups of Druchii who didn't manage to evade. They might be unparalleled to the rushing hordes of sadistic Xenos.
Now the group at their right was being overrun with enemies. They were managing to hold them off, but the waves of warriors coming to them were overwhelming their small force. Their apparent leader who was at the front was throwing bolts of lightning toward rushing enemies while barking orders to the ones closest to them, their resistance is well coordinated but the sheer number coming to face them is basically backing them up against the spike wall.
"They are focusing most of their numbers on the group on the right. We must stay vigilant for those who decide to come to us, we saw that one of them could easily cut us in half if he were not so reckless. So wish that they still maintain their focus on the other Xenos."
Marcus said while keeping a close eye on the battlefield, but then he noticed something that went unnoticed amidst the chaos. The Beast Riders were gone.
"Wait where are the Riders?"
"Riders?" Doc asked while finishing patching up the cut on Janessa's gut.
"Yes at the beginning of the fight, there were some of them riding beasts whose teeth looked like daggers...Where are they?"
"I thought I was the only one who noticed that," Ellias said while lying on his back, wrapping a piece of his coat on the cut on his bleeding arm.
The Officer continued staring around the field trying to scan for these enemies. Minutes pass by as the different Xenos forces manage to kill every one of the poorly clothed warriors. Seeing the last one falling dead with a quick bolt of energy from the leader of the Eldar at their right, the crowd cheers on at the bloodshed displayed, blood stained the white grains of calcium on the ground.
"Well, it appears that these suckers were not the new queens and kings of the arena after all..."
The mass of Dark Eldar occupying the grandstand started laughing maniacally at the announcer's "joke".
"Are they actually fine with their kinsmen dying?"
Ellias asked while staring at the crowd shocked at the orchestra of laughter and cackles.
"Well if their description in the manual is anything to go by I wouldn't put past them to do so..."
Doc answered still processing the strange reaction of these sadistic Xeno's.
"But now let's speak seriously. Who hoped these amateurs could actually survive this? They didn't even manage to kill the Imperium trash haha!"
Another wave of booming laughter proceeds the other jest done by the Announcer.
"Now let's be serious about this, play time is over..."
With that, the loud noise of drums started playing setting suspense on the atmosphere of the fighting grounds.
"Dark Kin let's give our thunderous applause to the well-known troupe of killers...
THE SHADOW REAPERS!"
Just as he finished a wave of warriors mounted on hovering bikes came from above in a swarm, their numbers greater than any of the groups on the ground.
They came in quick impaling many of the Tau with their long spears. The red warriors made a circle covering all sides as they engaged their flying assailants.
The reptilians were having a hard time tracking the swarm flying around them and being pierced time and time again by the long-bladed weapons of the Reapers.
Now the Eldar were in trouble since the way their enemies were approaching the combat was far different than with the others. They threw explosives which sent enormous clouds of bone and dust up in the air, their leader trying to hold a protective barrier against the bombs and grenades threwn to them.
Marcus noticed a pattern, the Drukhari were far more ruthless and direct with the Eldar than with the others fighting currently in the arena. It appeared as if they wanted to quickly dispatch them before engaging the others.
'They should be very strong opponents to reserve using such aggressive tactics on them' the Captain thought while analyzing the explosions happening just to their right.
But still even with that two things were not adding up:
The first was the location of the Riders that came with the first group of fighters;
The second was why the fighting happened only in the corners of the fighting stage and not in the center. The enemy had a pattern in their attacks, they kept circling around as a swarm of bees, not letting any of the other contestants break formation.
However, his thoughts were cut short as Janessa screamed.
"Four Xenos confirmed flying towards our position!"
In the distance four broke formation to come flying to their position, with spears in hand they cackled and smiled while closing the distance towards the humans.
"Spread out and open fire! Give them no quarter, shoot until they're dead, avoid being close to each other!"
Marcus screamed while running towards their right, Ellias was the next to break and run towards the left, then Doc went south and Janessa rushed to the middle.
The Guardsmen ran some meters before engaging the enemy up front, their las shots cutting through the air towards the hovering vehicles. Just as they began the Reapers executed a barrel roll maneuver separating the group into two different teams of two.
"Shit watch out!"
The Seasoned Officer screamed as two of them quickly lowered altitude to pierce Ellias with their spears. The Corporal throws himself to the ground, centimeters from getting impaled his gun falling from his hand.
Doc shot toward the reapers that almost managed to kill Ellias, scratching the hull of one of their bikes.
"They're far too fast!" Exclaimed Darius trying to still land a shot on both warriors.
The other two quickly turned their attention towards the Specialist, going full speed towards him, Janessa and Marcus were quick to fire towards both approaching killers who were thirsty for the Combat Medic blood. The rapid succession of las fire is enough to make both spread before reaching him, allowing Doc to roll out of their path. The two Reapers circled back, their bikes whipping up the bone dust as they prepared for another pass.
"Keep moving, don't let them get a clear shot!" Marcus commanded, his voice steady despite the chaos. The Captain fired again, this time catching one of the Reapers' bikes with a well-placed las bolt. The bike sputtered, veering off course and crashing into the ground with a fiery explosion.
"One down, three to go!" Marcus yelled, his confidence bolstered by the hit.
Ellias scrambled to his feet, grabbing his lasgun and joining the fray. "You heard the Captain! Let's send these bastards back to the hell they came from!"
The remaining Reapers regrouped, their cruel eyes glinting with malice. They formed a tight formation and accelerated, aiming to overwhelm the Guardsmen with their superior speed and maneuverability.
"Janessa, cover me!" Marcus shouted, sprinting towards a nearby wreckage for better cover. Janessa provided suppressive fire, her shots forcing the Reapers to zigzag and lose momentum.
Doc and Ellias with his laspistol, seizing the opportunity, fired at the distracted Xenos. One of the Reapers took a direct hit to the chest, falling from his bike and hitting the ground with a sickening thud.
"Two down!" Doc called out, his voice filled with grim satisfaction.
The remaining Reapers, now wary of the Guardsmen's coordinated efforts, circled above like vultures. They adjusted their tactics, firing their splinter pistols from a distance, peppering the ground around the Imperials with deadly shards.
"Take cover!" Marcus ordered, ducking behind a large piece of debris from a fallen bike. The others followed suit, avoiding the lethal rain of splinter fire.
"We need to draw them in closer again," Janessa said, her voice strained but determined. "They're too fast for us to hit at range."
Marcus nodded, formulating a plan. "Ellias, you and Doc stay here and keep their attention. Janessa and I will flank them from the sides. We'll hit them when they come in for another pass."
With a quick nod of agreement, the team split. Ellias and Doc fired sporadic shots, creating a distraction while Marcus and Janessa moved into position.
The Reapers, seeing what they believed to be an opening, dove in for another attack. As they neared, Marcus and Janessa sprang from their trap. They opened fire from the flanks, catching the Reapers in a deadly crossfire. One of the bikes exploded in mid-air, sending the rider crashing to the ground.
"Last one!" Marcus yelled, his voice filled with adrenaline.
The final Reaper, realizing his precarious situation, tried to retreat. But Doc, with a precise shot, hit the bike's engine, causing it to sputter and lose altitude. The Reaper crash-landed near Marcus, who wasted no time. He charged, laspistol in hand, and finished the Xenos off with a point-blank shot.
The crowd roared with approval, their bloodlust temporarily sated by the display of violence. Marcus and his team regrouped, breathing heavily but victorious.
"Good work, everyone," Marcus said, his voice steady despite the chaos. "But this isn't over yet. Stay sharp."
As the dust settled, the Captain noticed the Eldar to their right were still holding their ground, albeit barely. The Tau and the reptilian warriors were also engaged in fierce combat, each faction fighting for survival in the blood-soaked arena.
The announcer's voice boomed once more, filled with malicious glee. "What a performance the Reapers are giving! But the night is still young, and the arena thirsts for more! Let us see if our survivors can endure the next challenge!"
The ground began to tremble, and from the shadows emerged a new threat—larger, more menacing than before. The real battle was just beginning, and Marcus knew that to survive, they would need every ounce of skill and courage they had left.
"Get ready," he told his team, gripping his weapon tightly. "This is just the beginning."
"Let us greet the RIDERS OF DOOOOOOOOOOM!"
Once again the crow ravenously cheered as from thin air appeared a warrior riding a gnarly beast. It came running toward them, it was bigger than a brown bear and equally hairy, its eyes were a deep black void of any semblance of light or conscience. Its mouth is a round gaping hole filled with thin translucent sharp teeth. This abomination looks like a fusion between a brown American bear and a Black Sea Devil.
"By the Emperor..." was all Marcus could muster at the sight of such a nightmarish creature.
Thalindra screamed, trying to regain the attention of her warriors amidst the onslaught of Drukhari charging towards them.
"Maintain formation! Don't break ranks! Push them back!"
The Farseer struggled, evading strikes from four assailants, her diminished foresight forcing her to react swiftly to parry and hold her ground. With her staff, she swung in an arc, effortlessly cleaving through one attacker, but the others pressed on undeterred, closing in on the Seer.
They aimed to corner her against a wall of spikes. Thalindra had observed their tactic from the onset of the battle—the Wytches attempting to herd them towards the razor-sharp barriers in hopes of skewering them.
From the start, Thalindra had been trying to advance towards the oncoming horde at the center, but her forces, except for Arandur the Dire Avenger and Kaelaith the Howling Banshee, were in disarray, ignoring her commands.
"By Khaine's bloody hand, push them back and move forward!"
She shouted, using her psychic abilities to broadcast her command to her unit. All she received in response was panic.
Once again, the three young Wytches closed in on her, but the Farseer had had enough, releasing a bolt of energy towards them. As the energy blast left her hand, the Drukhari warriors were reduced to dust.
Her head throbbed with pain, a warning sign to be cautious with her psychic powers. The arena's warp suppression field weakened her abilities significantly; overexertion risked rendering her unconscious.
"Arandur, Kaelaith, take command of our forces! They're not following my orders."
She relayed the message telepathically to her trusted warriors, who were engaged in combat against a fresh wave of enemies.
"Busy here, Thalindra!" replied Arandur mentally, fending off over ten warriors, skillfully deflecting their blows while struggling to avoid their numerous attacks. His sword clashed with theirs in a blur of deadly speed.
"Understood. By Khaine's name, it shall be done!" Kaelith responded dutifully.
Seizing the moment to gain a better vantage, the Eldar Seer soared above the battlefield, surveying the unfolding situation. The enemy's strategy became evident.
"Their strategy is to wear us down with cannon fodder," she concluded, noting their lack of finesse and skill. Yet, another detail caught her off guard.
She observed invisible Druchii riders circling each group aside from the small quartet of humans, their dark presence betraying their otherwise concealed positions. One rider, in particular, fixated on Thalindra, his aura ablaze with murderous intent. The Seer's eyes widened in realization.
"It's a trap!" Her mind swiftly processed the threat.
"Kaelith, focus your Banshees on our flanks. We have an invisible Beast-Rider just meters away from our position. Take precautions to intercept him."
The Howling Banshee's response was swift and resolute.
"It will be done, Farseer!"
Soon, Thalindra witnessed the Veteran Banshee swiftly reorganizing her forces, positioning them to guard their flanks. The rider hesitated, sensing the change in tactics, then veered away towards the group of Imperials to their left.
"They've left us," she exhaled in relief, but dread crept in as she realized their target was a squad of Guardsmen. 'Stay focused. Remember Eldrad's teachings: Eldar lives above all else. Their sacrifice buys us time.' Suppressing her growing empathy, she sought to rationalize, hoping her waning mind defences would curb this uncharacteristic emotional vulnerability that had led her and her troops into this predicament.
Once more, the pounding headache reminded her of the suppression field's limitations on her powers. "Damn the Dark Kin and their vile tools," Thalindra muttered in frustration, gathering her resolve against the strain her abilities endured.
Arandur's voice broke through her thoughts with urgency, "Their numbers are thinning! We might prevail!"
"Don't underestimate them, Arandur. The Drukhari are cunning. This is only the beginning. Stay vigilant and strike them down until the last."
Thalindra responded promptly, knowing the battle was far from over. As the skirmish quieted, the Farseer stepped forward, leading her forces.
"The immediate threat has been neutralized, Thalindra," Kaelith announced their temporary victory, awaiting her orders at the forefront.
Halting, the Eldar surveyed the aftermath of the carnage and bloodshed they had wrought. She silently thanked her helmet for masking the visceral scent of spilled entrails and gore.
Without averting her gaze from the arena, monitoring the circling Druchii riders, she mentally queried her warriors for a status update.
"How many casualties?"
Voices echoed with pained groans in her mind. Swiftly assessing their manifestations, Thalindra concluded: seven wounded—two Banshees and five Rangers.
"And the fallen?"
Arandur, positioned to her left, responded solemnly, "Two, I'm afraid:
Aeloria and Thandor."
The Farseer nodded mournfully, tears welling in her eyes. She struggled to regain control of her emotions, drawing upon Eldrad's teachings for composure.
"Their sacrifice will not be forgotten. Retrieve their soul stones for me. I made a promise to deliver them to their families."
Arandur reverently returned to where the fallen lay, carefully retrieving the soul stones. Thalindra held them tenderly, closing her eyes in silent prayer—for protection, for their souls, and for forgiveness.
Yet, her attention was drawn to the other contestants in the arena. Glancing to her left, she saw the Tau easily deal with the Wytches coming their way. The reptilian abominations of the Haemonculi were killing the Druchii as if they were mere insects, and then came the humans, particularly their leader, who had caught her notice before the chaos erupted, the one who rudely stared at her. She had observed him closely peering at his mind.
Marcus, the Captain of a defensive unit from Arina, had been captured while protecting the town's inhabitants. Now, he and his group had defeated a Drukhari warrior, sustaining no casualties, their unity and resolve outshining even the proud Eldar.
Despite their lack of finesse, humans could prove formidable opponents.
His mind pulsed with cunning, as sharp as an Asuryani blade. Marcus bore the hallmarks of a seasoned leader, a survivor of countless battles. Yet, his soul told another story.
Souls are like beacons in the warp's darkness. Each species' presence is marked by these 'beacons.' Humans typically emitted a fainter light compared to Eldar, owing to their lesser connection to the Immaterium. Thalindra once believed this indicated inferior intellect and near-animalistic behavior, but Eldrad had enlightened her—the true reason lay in humans' diminished presence in the Immaterium, lessening their emotions and thoughts. Nevertheless, their souls functioned similarly to those of any sentient species.
Despite their more elusive and subdued souls, humans possessed a distinct warm, yellow glow. Marcus, however, exhibited a far grayer hue, betraying inner turmoil, likely stemming from past traumas. Curiously, amidst the chaos of battle, Thalindra's newfound empathy nudged her to empathize with these fleeting human emotions.
Shaking off the distraction, Thalindra turned to the Eldar crowd behind her, seeking to reaffirm their trust and compliance.
"I know many of you see me as a hindrance after our last mission, and I don't blame you. But please, heed my words. If we act together, we can survive this!"
"No." Taliar, one of the elder Rangers, stepped forward.
"I don't mean to offend you Farseer, you have done much for Ulthwe and I don't have one shred of doubt about where your heart lies. But the absence of your focus on our people has put us in this situation to begin with."
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK LIKE THIS TO YOUR FARSEER..." Kaelith marched raising her hand ready to punch the Ranger, when Thalindra simply stood in her way blocking the Banshee from attempting anything against the Eldar warrior.
"Kaelith thank you for feeling the need to protect my honor. But please don't, stand down..."
"But Thalindra he disrespected you and refused to obey your command!" The Howling Banshee screamed in frustration.
"We are not like the Imperium, nor our cousins where obedience is unquestionable and failure to do so is met with threats, violence, and death."
She stepped forth putting a hand on her shoulders pacifying her friend.
"The Asuryani always choose which path to tread, so if they believe I'm not fit to do that anymore they are in their right to think so."
The Farseer then turned to the crowd looking at every one of them who were focused on her words.
"I know what you are thinking of me, and I understand. If you don't wish to follow my command I respect that, but I beg you, brothers and sisters, heed my words!"
Before she could finish her speech the raspy voice of the Announcer cut her off.
"Well, it appears that these suckers were not the new queens and kings of the arena after all..."
The mass of Dark Eldar occupying the grandstand started laughing maniacally at the announcer's "joke" which seriously irked the Seer at their open satisfaction of seeing their fellow kinsmen die.
"But now let's speak seriously. Who hoped these amateurs could actually survive this? They didn't even manage to kill the Imperium trash haha!"
Another wave of booming laughter rolls at the other jest done by the Announcer.
"Now let's be serious about this, play time is over..."
With that, the loud noise of drums started playing almost assaulting her ears with the loud thumping sound of the instruments.
"Dark Kin let's give our thunderous applause to the well-known troupe of killers...
THE SHADOW REAPERS!"
'NO' Was all Thalindra could think of as from the blinding lights came a swarm of Drukhari riding Reaver Jetbikes. They came quickly and brutally as they threw plasma grenades toward them.
With the explosion's deafening roar, Thalindra's mind instinctively reached out, forming a psychic shield just in time to deflect a few of the plasma grenades. The remaining grenades, however, caused carnage within the ranks, screams of pain and terror echoing around her. The smell of burnt flesh and ozone filled the air.
"Kaelaith, to me!" Thalindra's mental command was sharp and urgent, her desperation palpable.
Kaelaith, ever vigilant and dutiful, sprinted towards Thalindra, cutting down a pair of Drukhari riders who dared to stand in her way. "At your side, Farseer," she replied, her voice steady despite the chaos.
The Reaver Jetbikes circled around them like vultures, their riders jeering and throwing more explosives. Thalindra strained to maintain her psychic barrier, each impact sending ripples of pain through her already strained mind. "Hold the line! We must push them back!" she ordered her voice a beacon of hope amidst the despair.
Kaelaith's movements were a blur as she leaped to intercept a group of Reavers attempting to flank them. Her power sword hummed as it cut through the air, each strike precise and lethal. Her Banshee mask amplified her war cry, the sonic assault disorienting the Drukhari and giving her the edge she needed.
But the tide was against them. For every Reaver Kaelaith cut down, two more seemed to take its place. The enemy's sheer numbers were overwhelming. Thalindra felt the strain on her mind grows unbearable, her vision blurring as she struggled to keep the shield intact.
"Farseer, we need to move! We can't stay here!" Arandur's voice rang in her mind, filled with urgency.
"Yes," Thalindra responded, her determination ironclad. "We must. We must—"
Her words were cut off by a new wave of explosions. The shield flickered, then shattered under the relentless assault. Thalindra staggered, her strength waning. She saw the Reaver Jetbikes closing in, this time with their splinter weaponry the Druchii were ready to strike the final blow.
Kaelaith, seeing her leader's peril, acted without hesitation. She threw herself in front of Thalindra, her body a living shield. The projectiles hit her full force, her armor cracking under the strong impact.
"Kaelaith, no!" Thalindra screamed, reaching out to her friend holding the Banshee in her arms, her heart drumming in her ears. Her long-time friend with raspy pained breaths uses her hand to take her helmet off, and with a quick hissing, it opens. With her remaining strength, she removes the headgear to take a last look at her long-time sister-in-arms.
The Howling Banshee turned her head slightly her golden locks flowing out as the helmet was removed, her amber eyes locking onto Thalindra's. "It has been an honor, Farseer. I don't regret anything...," she whispered, her voice filled with a calm acceptance. Then with a last shaky breath, her torso seizes movement, her eyes now devoid of light and soul, signaling that now only a husk remained of what Kaelith the Howling Banshee was.
Fueled by a surge of anger and grief, Thalindra's mind flared with raw power. Her eyes crackled with energy as bolts of lighting started manifesting around her, then with a deafening cry, she unleashed a psychic storm, bolts of energy lashing out at the Reavers, tearing through their ranks. The Drukhari, momentarily stunned by the ferocity of her assault, hesitated and retreated.
"Advance, now!" Thalindra commanded, her voice telepathically booming brooking no argument.
The remaining Eldar forces, spurred by the sacrifice of Kaelaith and the Farseer's fury, rallied and began to advance in a coordinated advance. Thalindra, her strength waning, stayed at the rear to get the soul stones of those who already perished, using her remaining psychic powers to shield her as best as she could.
As she saw them running for the center, the reality of Kaelaith's death settled heavily on Thalindra's shoulders. Her friend, her protector, had given her life to save her. They both grew together, and she even considered following the path of the Banshee only so she could be with her best friend, however, her call and destiny were amongst the seers. It was a sacrifice Thalindra would not forget, a debt she could never repay.
Once they reached a temporary safe zone, Thalindra used all her remaining strength to reunite with her comrades, as soon as she managed to get to the middle of the arena she collapsed to her knees, her body and mind exhausted. She clutched Kaelaith's soul stone in her hands, a silent vow forming in her heart. She would honor her friend's memory by leading her people to survival, no matter the cost.
For Kaelaith, the Howling Banshee, the Shadow Wail, had given everything for her, and Thalindra would ensure her sacrifice was not in vain.
But soon the dreadful raspy voice filled with malicious glee of the Announcer broke her out of her reverie.
"What a performance the Reapers are giving! But the night is still young, and the arena thirsts for more! Let us see if our survivors can endure the next challenge!"
The ground began to tremble, and from the shadows emerged a new threat. The battle was far from over, and Thalindra knew that to survive, she would need to push herself far beyond her limit.
"May Khaine give me strength to face my enemy." The Seer sighed as she prepared for another fight.
"Let us greet the RIDERS OF DOOOOOOOOOOM!"
The monstrous figure emerged. The crowd's cheers grew louder as the beast lumbered forward, its rider perched atop its back. The beast was massive, covered in thick, armored plates, with jaws that could crush steel.
"That's... that's the thing I saw earlier," Marcus said, his voice barely a whisper.
"We may die now but I'm not going down without a fight," Ellias declared, tightening his grip on his lasgun.
"Prepare yourselves," Marcus ordered, steeling himself for the final battle. "We either end this now or he will end us, for the Emperor."
The beast roared, shaking the very ground they stood on. The rider raised his weapon, a wickedly curved blade, and pointed it at the squad.
"Time to show these Xenos what we Cadians are made of," Marcus said, his voice filled with determination. "For the Emperor!"
The squad spread out, keeping their distance from the beast as it charged. They fired in unison, their lasguns lighting up the arena. The shots seemed to have little effect on the beast's thick hide, but they pressed on, determined to find a weakness.
"Focus on the rider!" Marcus shouted, aiming his laspistol at the Dark Eldar perched on the beast.
The rider deftly avoided their shots, his movements fluid and precise. He directed the beast with ease, guiding it towards the nearest target: Doc.
Doc barely managed to dive out of the way as the beast's massive jaws snapped shut where he had been standing. "This thing is too fast!" he yelled, scrambling to his feet.
"We need to slow it down," Marcus said, his mind racing. He glanced around the arena, searching for anything they could use to their advantage. His eyes fell on a cluster of grenades still attached to one of the fallen Reapers' bikes.
"Ellias, Janessa, cover me!" Marcus ordered, sprinting towards the wreckage. He slid to a stop next to the destroyed bike, grabbing the grenades and quickly assessing their condition.
"Doc, catch!" he shouted, tossing one of the grenades to the specialist. "We need to hit it with this!"
Doc caught the grenade and nodded, understanding the plan. He moved into position, ready to throw it at the beast.
"Now!" Marcus commanded, and the squad unleashed a barrage of las fire, focusing their shots on the rider. The Dark Eldar was momentarily distracted, giving Doc the opening he needed.
He hurled the grenade with precision, aiming for the beast's underbelly. The explosive detonated, sending a shockwave through the ground. The beast roared in pain, its movements slowing as the grenade's impact took its toll.
"Keep firing!" Marcus urged, aiming for the rider once more. The squad's combined firepower finally found its mark, striking the rider in the chest and knocking him from his perch. He fell to the ground, a look of surprise and fury on his face.
"Ellias, take the shot!" Marcus yelled, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Ellias didn't hesitate. He raised his lasgun and fired, the shot hitting the rider square between the eyes. The Druchii's body went limp, his lifeless eyes staring up at the sky.
The beast, now without its rider, thrashed about in confusion. Marcus saw his chance. "Janessa, the grenades!"
Janessa pulled the remaining grenades from her belt, activating them and tossing them towards the beast. They detonated in a series of explosions, the combined force enough to bring the creature to its knees.
With a final, earth-shaking roar, the beast collapsed, its massive form lying still in the center of the arena.
The crowd was silent for a moment, as if in disbelief. Then, they erupted into a deafening roar, their bloodlust sated by the spectacle.
Marcus, breathing heavily, looked at his squad. They were scratched, exhausted, but alive. "We did it," he said huffing, a note of pride in his voice.
"For the Emperor," Ellias echoed, his voice filled with triumph. Janessa laughing at another unlikely victory.
The announcer's voice boomed over the arena once more. "Impressive, the four punny humans managed to defeat a Rider! Truly impressive! They have survived until now. But remember, the fight is still on."
The Captain takes a look around to assess the current situation throughout the arena. And what he sees is completely unexpected...
One of the Riders managed to break the Tau's cohesion tearing apart one after the other easily, the ones who still remained were running toward the center, hoping that the beast would not catch up to them.
"Oof that must have hurt. The Tau are suffering heavy losses right now, one single Rider was able to tear them apart in close combat. Few remain, well hope you did not bet on them, cause I'm certain you will lose..."
The tall reptilian aliens were dead, the Reapers managing to kill them while the Imperials fought the mounted Dark Eldar. Their corpses were scattered on the ground, it was evident that they were overwhelmed by explosive weaponry. What little of their bodies that managed to be still whole were pierced by many knives, splinters, and strange blades.
And now in the middle of the arena stood the Eldar facing two Riders and a swarm of reapers, their numbers quickly depleting.
"Our cousins appear to be having a hard time dealing with all these Drukhari warriors! As expected they are incapable of withstanding our might and cunning. Soon you all will be having a rare sight in this arena, the death of a Farseer! Rejoice for having the honor of seeing a Witch dying in the all-mighty Lith'antu Khlavh!"
The crowd as expected ruptured in murderous glee at the prospect of having this "Farseer" dead.
"Well, it appears that from all the groups we are surprisingly faring better..." Doc concluded beside Marcus after noticing all the losses of the Xenos.
"Only because they are not taking us as seriously as them."
The Captain was quick to cut off any fantasies of the real reason they had been lucky till now. They have to thank the Emperor for all this string of events in their favor, since if these bastards did at least 10% of what they are doing to the others, all of them would be dead in the first minutes.
Taking a closer look at the carnage on display the Officer realised something very important. The walls were shaking, it was very subtle but enough to notice that something was wrong.
"Run to the center!"
He broke in a sprint leaving no space for discussion, Ellias tried to call Marcus back, but they didn't have time, and now he understood well why the fight was designed to keep them in their positions. Everything about the layout of the battlefield was made so the ultimate trap could be sprung. At halfway to the center the Announcer's voice breaks the sound of war.
"Well, all of this bloodshed is fun and at all, but is time to wrap this up. May the arena claim its due..."
A loud humming noise could be heard as the ground started to shake. Marcus couldn't look back cause he knew very well what was happening. The walls started moving slowly, the spikes on them closing the distance towards them.
'The enemies could push us around, or simply kill us without a care in the world. But from the beginning, they came for us, with a specific procedure, they gave us enough breathing room, so just another enemy could come at us. Hindering our mobility, in the end, the final opponent was not the naked warriors, the Riders, or the reapers...It was the arena itself' The Seasoned Officer thought as he ran as fast as he could towards the center, his squadmates following closely behind.
'Had the Xenos noticed that as well? Is that the reason they are there?' That is all he could think as they approached the so-called Eldar, evading splinter shots and some scattered explosion.
He tried to squeeze himself against the tall black-clad Warriors but was quickly shoved aside falling on his ass. The Captain then turns towards the asshole who just shoved him.
The Eldar wore a lightweight, form-fitting armor adorned with a distinctive black and bone color scheme, highlighted by intricate runic patterns and symbols. His helm was a strange elongated oval shape, with red lenses.
"Get out of here Mon-Keigh! There is no place for your ilk he..."
He is cut short as a splinter shot pierces his throat, making the alien fall to the ground hands on his throat gurgling on his blood.
'It appears that is not for you as well' remarked Marcus on his thoughts seeing the wounded warrior finally cease movement, marking his death.
Taking a quick look at the battle, he notices the Reapers focusing all their effort on the Eldar, the barrage of splinter fire and explosions killing multiple amidst the chaos. He knew that Ellias would comment something, but before the Corporal could actually say something, Marcus spoke:
"Stay low! Let them engage the reapers, only fire at those who fly too close to the ground."
All of them were puzzled by the orders but still obeyed. They remained crouched on the ground, some meters away from the Xeno force, letting them take the blunt force of the flying enemies.
They took some shots now and then at some unaware Drukhari who were too busy engaging the Eldar, but remained low, in hopes to not aggro the enemy to them.
Soon however three Taus tried to do exactly what Marcus did, and were just the same as he shoved to the ground away from the center. The beast caught up to them, the gaping mouth tearing one apart while the other was pierced by the spear of the Dark Eldar riding the creature.
The walls were quickly closing on them, having less than a hundred meters from their position, the glistening spikes approaching their position.
"We don't have a choice retreat into the Xenos formation, engage all targets, and don't hold fire!"
The Eldar were in complete disarray, their numbers now reduced to four warriors, after the gruesome onslaught brought by the reapers, they were in a circle formation protecting someone who was in the middle.
'This must be their commander' He thought while closing in once again, his back to them taking shots at the various enemies hovering above them. Their now reduced numbers were not enough to push them out of the center.
As Marcus and his squad entered the Eldar formation, they could see the figure in the center more clearly, it was clearly female. It was similar to those other warriors but instead of the old black armor, she wore an elaborate suit of armor, its surface a dark, glossy black adorned with intricate gold and bone-white runes. These runes were not just decorative; they pulsed faintly with psychic energy, a testament to his previous conclusions about her importance. Her robes, worn over her armor, were flowing and adorned with symbols of some kind, the fabric shifting and shimmering with her every movement. These robes added to her imposing and regal appearance.
Her helmet was a masterpiece of Eldar craftsmanship, sleek and elegant, with an elongated shape that tapered to a fine point at the back. It featured a smooth, expressionless faceplate with narrow slits for her piercing eyes, which glowed with an inner light. The helm was crowned with a crest of ethereal strands, shimmering with a spectral glow, giving her an almost otherworldly appearance.
In her hands, she wielded an ornate staff, its shaft crafted from the same dark material as her armor. The staff's head was a complex, rune-etched design that glowed with psychic energy, crackling with raw power. It served not only as a weapon, Marcus was not much versed on psyker or witch stuff, but he knew enough to know that this was not a mere staff. She was now supporting her weight on it as she struggled to breathe.
The Xeno woman was flanked by another warrior this one wearing a sleek, sophisticated armor, designed to blend both functionality and elegance. His gear was predominantly black, with intricate bone-colored patterns etched across its surface, each symbol appearing to tell a story of his heritage and accomplishments. The armor hugged his form, allowing for maximum agility and speed.
His helmet was a work of art in itself, an elongated, oval shape that covered his entire head. It featured a pair of glowing red lenses that gave him a predatory, almost alien appearance, and a crest adorned with flowing, ethereal strands that seemed to move with a life of their own. The helm also had a slight ridge, giving it a streamlined and menacing look.
This Warrior weaponry was equally impressive. He wielded a finely crafted power sword, its blade shimmering with an ethereal light. The sword's hilt was adorned with Eldar runes, glowing faintly as if imbued with ancient power. On his other arm, he carried a sleek, sophisticated shuriken pistol, capable of unleashing a deadly hail of monomolecular discs with pinpoint accuracy. He was her protector alongside another two warriors who were frantically engaging their flying enemies.
Marcus exchanged a quick look with the kneeling "Witch", in the fleeting moment that their gazes met was a silent acknowledgment of their temporary truce born out of necessity. The walls of the arena continued to close in, the spikes drawing ever closer, and the Drukhari Reapers circled above like vultures.
The Mon-Keigh Officer approached them, back to back he alongside his friends were firing upon the flying Druchii. She was impressed seeing humans survive this hell. However she did not have time to idle around pondering about them, the Farseer had a job to do...
Thalindra's voice rang out, clear and commanding. "Hold the line! We will not fall here!" Her eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, and she raised her hand, gathering the remaining energy within her.
Arandur and the Eldar warriors fought with renewed vigor, their weapons striking down any Drukhari who dared to come too close. Marcus, Ellias, Doc, and Janessa did their best to support them, firing at the reapers and keeping their heads low to avoid the splinter fire. Unfortunately, both Eldar warriors got shot amidst the hail of fire being traded between both parties, their bodies being pierced by the gruesome toxic projectile of the Druchii.
Thalindra felt her eyes fill with tears seeing Taliar and Alandor fall limp on the floor, a dry thud signaling their final defeat. Pain, suffering, and fear are what she feels coming from both of them, but Taliar also feels remorse and guilt for not hearing her. She wanted to hold him in her arms in these final moments and soothe his worries, but she can't, her body and mind is at their limit. So her only option is to be relegated to feel his last breaths filled with pain and sorrow.
The moment both warrior's torsos ceased movement Thalindra went back to business, time to meditate and mourn their losses would have to be at a later moment, now her main objective was to make her and Arandur get out of this situation alive.
Shas'la T'au Kais, the last surviving Tau, staggered towards the group, his armor battered and covered in blood. 'Honorable and efficient warrior of the Fire Warrior Cast' the Seer thought while staring at him. He nodded towards them, his face grim but determined. "We fight together," he said in his language. Thalindra understood well what the Tau meant thanks to her abilities. She returned the gesture signaling their temporary truce.
The final Rider, sensing the desperation of the mixed group, charged towards the center of the arena, his beast roaring in anticipation. Marcus the Captain aimed his laspistol, but before he could fire, Thalindra stepped forward, her eyes blazing.
With a surge of psychic energy, Thalindra unleashed a devastating attack. The air crackled with power as she directed her wrath at the Rider and his beast. The ground shook, and a blinding light enveloped the arena.
The Rider and his beast were consumed by the psychic onslaught, their forms disintegrating into nothingness. The reapers above faltered, their ranks thinning as the Eldar and the remaining combatants seized the moment to strike back.
The Farseer, with her energy nearly spent, staggered but remained standing. "Great Mother give me strength in my hour of need," she said, her voice wavering but resolute. "We will not fall to these Drukhari scum."
The walls were now dangerously close, the spikes nearly upon them. Thalindra, in a final act of defiance, gathered the last of her strength. She raised her hands to the sky, and with a mighty roar a flow of tears flowing out of her eyes, unleashed a wave of energy that tore through the remaining reapers, sending them crashing to the ground in flames.
The crowd fell silent, awestruck by the display of power energy cackling all around killing many spectators, the flow of energy lashing out against the arena itself. Thalindra collapsed, her strength exhausted. Arandur caught her before she hit the ground, his expression of deep concern being the last thing she saw before going unconscious.
Marcus and his squad stood in stunned silence, the arena eerily quiet around them. The walls came to a halt, the spikes mere inches away. The announcer's voice crackled over the speakers, filled with disbelief.
"Incredible! Against all odds, the Mon-keigh and our naive Cousins have survived! What an astonishing turn of events!"
Marcus knelt exhausted, he took a quick wary look toward his unconventional and temporary companions. The Eldar Warrior was checking her for any wounds, her chest was moving with each slow breath she was alive but unconscious, her body battered and drained. The tall warrior stood protectively over her, his eyes scanning the arena for any remaining threats also trying to intimidate them through his helmet lenses.
The Tau Fire Warrior, now standing with the humans and Eldar bowed in respect. He said something in his native language, his voice appeared to be loaded with the weight of the recent events.
Marcus looked at his squad, pride swelling in his chest. They had faced insurmountable odds and emerged victorious, not just as soldiers of the Imperium, but as survivors of a harrowing ordeal.
"We did it," he said softly, his words a tribute to their resilience and determination.
The deafening screams of the crowd were being tuned out by his exhaustion, Marcus and his team had won, but he knew this was far from over. And now that he had tasted firsthand what they were planning for them, the Captain knew this was only the opening of a far bigger and cruel show.
Woah what a crazy ride am I right? Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. The next one will be the first big interaction between our protagonists, also we will get a little more of Elyria the main antagonist.
So stay tuned, chapter three is already in the works!