I do not own the Warhammer 40000 universe nor any of its characters. They belong to Games Workshop.

Inspired by the Dornian Heresy, by Aurelius Rex.

In the Dark City of Commoragh, every Overlord had his or her own sanctuary. A place where they could retreat to when they grew weary of the endless plotting and betrayals of Dark Eldar society, where they could rest without fearing someone would plant a poisoned knife in their back. It was necessary, even if no one would admit to it out loud, and spending too much time in such a place was a sure way to bring doom upon oneself, as the lower orders sensed weakness and moved to take advantage of it. The practice had already been in use when the old noble houses had ruled Drukhari society, and the Cabals had continued it.

Asdrubael Vect, master of the Cabal of the Black Heart and Supreme Overlord of Commoragh, was no exception to this rule, unlike so many others. As the discussions with his old rival, El'Uriaq the Tyrant of Shaa-dom, progressed, he had felt the need to withdraw for a while, to think about his next move. He did not doubt for a moment that El'Uriaq saw these negotiations as an opportunity to do away with Vect and crown himself undisputed ruler of the true Eldar.

In fact, he would have been disappointed if he didn't. From the moment the Tyrant had entered Commoragh, under the applause of millions of Eldar, there had been dozens of attacks from one onto the other, through enough layers of deniability than neither had bothered making a fuss when the attempts were foiled. Vect didn't hold El'Uriaq's attempts on his life against him, nor did the Tyrant hold the Supreme Overlord's. In many ways, old enemies were the only true companions a lord of the Dark Eldar could keep over the centuries.

It had grown a bit tiresome, though, which was why both Vect and El'Uriaq had agreed to withdraw from the discussions personally for a time, while their subordinates hammered out the details of the alliance and relieved each lord from incompetent servants. Besides, both of them were running out of expendable assassins, and neither wanted to send their truly valuable killers to their death if it could be helped.

Of course, even here, the Supreme Overlord didn't allow himself to relax completely. He knew all too well that even the most secure lair could be breached, given enough time and resources. At least he was safe from treachery here : all those who had taken part in building that private retreat were dead, slain by his own hand, from the slaves to the architect. No one but him knew about this place's defenses, about the countless traps and protections he had had installed. The entire refuge was built inside its own dimensional pocket, and its connection to the rest of Commoragh could be severed with the press of a single button.

The entire Dark City could fall, and Vect would be safe here. The only other living being to have ever been given access to this lair was sitting next to him : his clone, perfectly identical, crafted by his haemonculi to be completely loyal to the Supreme Overlord. The ultimate body double, and Vect's final trump card against assassination attempts. He didn't really need him here, but staying together as often as possible was one of the requirements of the ruse.

All of this explained why, when there was a soft knock on the door, Vect was quite surprised. When the door opened, despite Vect clearly remembering having locked it behind him, and his visitor stepped through, that surprise turned into shock.

The intruder was tall, and wore bulky, brutish armor of mon-keigh design, bearing the slave-marks of the Ruinous Powers. It was painted black with white ornaments, and a stylized bird was painted onto the right shoulder paldron. A grey cloak hung from his shoulders, made of what appeared to be solidified smoke, and Vect could make out faces peering from within its folds, gone whenever he tried to look at them directly. He wore a hood of ragged fabric, and his face was covered by a helmet with a long, curved beak. He carried no obvious weapon, but Vect very much doubted he was defenceless.

For Vect recognized the emblem on the shoulder pad for what it was. He even recognized what the beaked helmet meant. Even in Commoragh, the Apothecaries of the Raven Guard were spoken of with as much respect as the Eldar could ever hold for lesser races, and more than a little fear. The Haemonculi Covens themselves, who were famous for their ruthlessness and lack of morality even among Dark Eldar, were said to avoid dealings with these servants of the Primordial Annihilator. Of course, when you asked them directly, they would tell you it was because they had nothing to learn from newcomers to the field of fleshcraft, and didn't want them to steal their secrets.

A dozen possible scenarios flashed in Vect's mind in an instant – and then the Space Marine bowed his head toward the two Eldar, remaining a respectful distance away.

So. Scenario seven it was.

'Greetings, Supreme Overlord Asdrubael Vect, greatest of all the lords of the Drukhari,' he said in perfect Eldar, using the dialect spoken by the inhabitants of Commoragh with only the slightest accent. 'I come in peace, meaning no harm to you or yours. My deepest apologies for the intrusion, but it was the only way I could meet you.'

'Who are you ?' asked Vect's duplicate, still sitting, giving every appearance of being completely at ease – just like Vect himself was. The gaze of the Space Marine moved between the two of them, not surprised to see more than one Vect, but not knowing which was the true one – or, if he knew, pretending he didn't.

'I am Vincente Sixx, Chief Apothecary of the Raven Guard,' he declared, and Vect slightly raised an eyebrow. The words the mon-keigh had used had several layers of context in the Eldar tongue, all of which alluded to far more importance to the title than mere dominion over healers. It was … impressive, to see one not of their race wield their language with such mastery. It was also polite.

'How did you get in here ?' asked Vect, wondering if he should have the Haemonculi resurrect the dead architects so that he could torture them more for their failure.

'We have our ways to go where we need to be. It does not really matter how I came here, Supreme Overlord. What matters is that I have come a very long way to make you an offer.'

'An offer from the legendary Raven Guard ? Well, if nothing else, this should be interesting. Go ahead,' waved Vect. 'You deserve the right to speak your piece for finding your way in here.'

'Thank you. Then, if I may …' began Vincente. 'Things are changing, Lord Vect. We stand at the turning of Ages, where all that was it put into question, and the destiny of the entire galaxy may be shaped by the actions of those with enough power and the will to see it done. You know this to be true – it is why you have put aside your grudges against El'Uriaq and called for the unity of your race, is it not ? You know your kind must be united … inasmuch as it can be.'

'My reasons are my own,' said the duplicate briskly, 'and I don't need to explain them to you.'

'Of course. But surely you can see the changes coming. Our misguided cousins, working together, have almost succeeded in bringing about their new godling, uncaring that the only thing that would allow it to reach its full power is the extinction of your race. The Crimson King has risen from his slumber, and the ghosts of the vengeful dead now fight alongside his silent sons. In the Ruinstorm, Roboute Guilliman has returned, and his Legion moves against the Iron Cage even now. And then, of course, there is what happened at Chemos … Times are changing, Lord Vect. Chaos is on the rise, and it will not be stopped this time. Even here, in your precious Dark City, you have seen the signs. The Mandrakes know what is coming. The seals that have kept you safe from the Dark Prince are failing.'

'But for all your efforts, you are still doomed by the mistakes of your ancestors. You reject the power of the Youngest God, deny yourself the power that is rightfully yours.'

'I will not be a slave to anyone or anything,' said Vect calmly.

'The Dark Prince has more than enough slaves,' waved Vincente dismissively. 'What He needs are champions. More than that, He needs avatars, vessels capable of bearing His power unto the Materium. The Eldar are Slaanesh's creators, and His chosen people. The Drukhari in particular - you live your entire lives in dedication to Him, even though you refuse to admit it to yourselves. You feed His hunger with your every breath, and it is only your fear that keeps you from receiving the rightful rewards for such loyal service. You already serve Slaanesh : you know it to be true. If you only did it willingly, then the curse that has afflicted your race for the last ten millennia would turn into the blessing it was always meant to be. Of all the species of the galaxy, your kind are the closest to their god, Lord Vect.'

'One way or another, damnation is coming for your people. It falls to you to choose what form it takes. You may resist to the end, and become nothing more than shrieking souls, consigned to an eternity of torment in Slaanesh's palace as punishment for rejecting your destiny. Or you may embrace what you truly are, and take your place at the Dark Prince's side, a Lord of the new galaxy to come. It is a choice all the souls that matter will have to make sooner or later.'

'Do you think me a fool ?' declared the duplicate, standing tall and proud, and glaring at the Raven Guard defiantly. 'I know the true price of submitting to Chaos. I was there during the Fall, mon-keigh ! I saw the birth of She-Who-Thirsts, and what She did to my people. With Her first breath, She swallowed our souls, and with Her first cry, She destroyed our empire ! I have spent my entire life protecting my people from Her, even if they certainly aren't grateful for it. This entire City stands because of me, because of what I did, and I will never … never …'

The duplicate's words stuttered, and he looked down at his chest, where a bloodstain was spreading. His mouth moved as he tried and failed to speak, and he fell, dead before he hit the ground.

'Tell me more about this power you offer,' said Vect, not lowering his pistol.

'Of course,' replied Vincente smoothly. 'But, if you would forgive my curiosity … Am I talking to Asdrubael Vect, who killed his replicate for lacking vision, or his replicate, who seized his chance to step out of the original's shadow and forge his own destiny ?'

Vect smiled codly, and said nothing.

AN : There is always a greater power ...

We are almost at the end of the Halloween specials. So far, you seem to enjoy them, and I hope this one doesn't disappoint either. Asdrubael Vect is one of the few villains of the 40k universe that I truly loathe - there is nothing about him that makes him look even the slightest bit redeemable. That's refreshing, in a way, and it fits well with the plans I have for him - and for all of Commoragh. The Times of Ending have truly begun, after all, and the shadows under the Dark City are stirring restlessly ...

This chapter is mostly setting things up for later, but I had the idea for that scene written down for a long time, and now seemed as good a time as any to write it down. The clone of Vect is something from one of the Dark Eldar novels, though I am at a loss as to which one. I am fairly certain I didn't make him up ... Feel free to refresh my memory. And to those who wonder how the Raven Guard suddenly seem to be involved in so many galaxy-threatening plots while Corax is supposed to just have finished torturing the Tech-Lords of Kiavahr ... well, time means very little in the Eye of Terror, and even less so to one such as the Ravenlord.

Tomorrow's chapter is going to be titled "The Cruelty of the Goddess". It will serve as an epilogue of sorts to the Fall of Chemos. There have been a lot of theories about the events of that chapter - from the identity of the Eldest to the fate of Fulgrim. I will tell you this : I have decided what the truth of both of these subjects is, and I am not going to change it even if someone somehow figures out the exact truth. So far, no one has - but then, I would tell you that, wouldn't I ?

After "The Death of Uber Aemos" went up, there were also lots of theories about the Yellow King. And ... unfortunately, I cannot say anything else about that without risking spoilers, so all I will say is that I quite like what you all came up with. Again, this is a matter where the Truth has already been decided, and I will not change it.

Also, for some reason, people seem to think Honsou is dead. No, my friends. Corax is not that merciful. Our favorite Iron Warrior hasn't become a corpse : he has become a cocoon. And we all know what cocoons are for, don't we ?

As always, please tell me what you thought of this chapter.

Zahariel out.