"There's the abomination!"

"Destroy it!"

Maybe, he should've seen this coming, Satoru mused. After all, his very presence would uproot quite a lot of Aeldari culture, if Caoimhe's words were to be believed. They lived their whole life in fear of the Thirsty Bitch, dedicating their whole lives to practice restraint and a whole bunch of other ritualistic things that were designed to prolong the inevitable for as long as possible, to stave of the Hungry/Thirsty Bitch's gullet. They even created things called Soul Stones to trap their souls in the event of death, a way to stave off the dreaded afterlife that apparently awaited them. And so, it could be said that, ironically, their whole lives pretty much revolved around the mark upon their souls, dictating what they could and could not do.

And along comes Gojo Satoru, most handsome bastard alive in the whole universe, with the ability to pretty much delete the mark from their souls, essentially freeing them from the grasp of the Thirsty Bitch. But wasn't that the ironic bit? Even on Earth, in his time, at least, Satoru had heard of and read about slaves who were freed only to return to the only life they knew – something about them living in chains for so long that they knew no other life beyond the chains and, therefore, would fight to their deaths to protect the very chains that bound them and kept them in place.

There would, of course, be those who did not like their chains and resisted, those who welcomed freedom with open arms. Those ones would be far fewer, but they were also far more important, for it was their presence that drives the inevitable tide of change, like the first small stones that starts an avalanche. Caoimhe and the other Aeldari who swore to him, the ones he'd 'cured' of the mark, would be the first to break free, the first to taste the other side. And so they would be the harbingers of change, the ones to bring the other Aeldari to a state of awakening.

After all, did they not want to be freed of their chains? Satoru liked to think that, yes, they did want to be free. It's just that thousands of years of indoctrination and cultural practices probably aren't easy to rid themselves of, hence the chain analogy.

The only problem now was that everyone seemed to be pointing their weapons at everyone else. He couldn't fight, either, not unless he wanted to burn any good will he might've already earned. Sure, the ones he'd healed spoke of him with reverence and would likely die for him if it came down to it, but, compared to the rest of the Craftworld, they were few in number. A fight was the least efficient way to settle this. Things would run so much smoother if the Aeldari were made to see reason, made to see that he, Gojo Satoru, was indeed their gloriously handsome and freakishly hot messiah.

On a more serious note, it was probably a good idea to just let Caoimhe and the other handle this. Not that he couldn't settle this, but the outcome probably wouldn't be good for anyone here. On the flip side, the view was freaking gorgeous. Aeldari Warriors with their weapons raised at him aside, the structures and the spiraling pillars behind them were so... beautiful, like scenes from a nightmare or a dream, where reality kind of melded into itself and every color on the rainbow was painted on a single wall. It was like that. He might've been tripping balls, but also probably not. But this was probably what people who were high on acid saw each time they went on a hallucinogenic trip.

The Craftworld looked utterly magical, even the damn trees looked as though they were plucked right out of a fantasy novel, jewel-like fruits and all.

This place was-

"The abomination must be destroyed!"

Oh, they're screaming at each other now. Satoru grinned. He always loved drama, especially if he was not directly involved and was merely a spectator, and especially if said drama somehow involved him for whatever reason; it was always nice to see people arguing with each other, tears and all. It seemed, now, that Caoimhe's wards were apparently necessary, because the Aeldari were dangerously close to trading blows and he was willing to bet that none of them actually wanted to kill each other or spill Eldar blood in general.

This was kind of fun to watch.

"The Farseers have foreseen the calamity he will bring upon our people! It cannot be allowed to pass!"

"Please, my kin, see reason!" Caoimhe roared back, her voice echoing across the open air, magnified by a series of Ritual Circles she'd placed on the floor, which allowed each and every Aeldari within hearing range to hear her voice in the same volume. Cool. It seemed simple enough that Satoru could probably replicate it if he tried. "He is not an abomination! Lord Gojo is no mere Monkeigh! He is Aithnid! He is a friend of our people!"

No one was listening to her. In fact, it seemed like ever more weapons were raised and aimed right at him. But, as long as he kept Infinity up and running around himself and his head, then he'd be fine. Still, at the first sign of violence, then all bets were off. He'd bolt and look for the Shard of the Avatar of Khaine and bolt; no way he was staying to wait and see what happens when a bunch of space elves got prissy about him, even if it was funny.

"Listen to yourself, Farseer!" Someone said, speaking with clear and present fear. "Can you not see that he has gripped your mind with his foul sorcery? Free yourself!"

Huh, what? Oh well, he didn't care.

As long as they stuck to being dramatically close to violence, without the actual violence, then he was fine with just watching.

Either way, he was getting that shard thing and there was nothing that was stopping this heist of epic proportions.

Satoru's eyes narrowed as he noted something he really should've noticed a lot earlier, but just failed to, because he'd never seen such a large sample size, but it seemed like... every single Aeldari was a Sorcerer. All of them, he noted. With Six-Eyes, Satoru saw that every single one of them emitted no ambient Cursed Energy, which was something only Sorcerers did. Was this a cultural quirk or was every Aeldari born a Sorcerer? Because Geto would absolutely love these guys if it was the latter. After all, it was his best friend's dream to elevate humanity by turning every human being into a Sorcerer – or just kill every human so that only Sorcerers remained, thus ridding the world of Cursed Spirits. Either way, Geto would've loved these guys, essentially the embodiment of his dream.

Huh, Caoimhe mentioned something about the Aeldari being born with an innate connection to the Immaterium, which was their term for the Cursed Realm, but he hadn't paid much attention to that part, because he was busy imagining her naked and also because she didn't really focus on it, which Satoru took to meaning it probably wasn't important. Well, it wasn't important to her, he figured. But that innate connection essentially doomed them, since it was what allowed the Thirsty Bitch to mark each and every single one of their souls.

Actually, Caoimhe also mentioned something about holding back about 95% of what she's actually capable of, because it risked attracting the Cursed Spirits that dwelt in the Cursed Realm, otherwise known to her as Daemons. But, most importantly, drawing on too much power apparently attracted the attention of the Thirsty Bitch, who'd pretty much do the sucky-sucky on her soul, which wasn't good. Now, however, without the mark, Caoimhe was able to call on much greater power than before, though there was still plenty of trepidation on her part.

By his estimation, comparing her CE output now to her CE output when they first fought, then she was using about 25% of her total potential as opposed to the 5% she'd been using back then. However, much of that power was spent on the Ritual Circles themselves, which she'd bound to herself with herself as the battery. If Satoru had to compare her with anyone, then her 25% was about as much CE output as Mei Mei, which meant her 100% would put her on the same realm as Yuta, in terms of volume and density. Combined with her knowledge of General Sorcery, Caoimhe would be an absolute menace to fight against, a beast on any battlefield.

Satoru shuddered to imagine a maximum output mind attack; it'd probably be strong enough to melt brains and split skulls apart.

Monstrous, but also hot as hell. A woman who could actually just kill him was kind of hot for some reason.

It also made him wonder why she didn't just do the same mind-spell thing to every other Aeldari here so that they saw what she saw and feel what she felt. But, for reasons that were entirely her own, Caoimhe did not do that.

So, whatever.

"He is more than Aithnid!" One of the Aeldari Warriors on his side roared, raising a some sort of rifle-looking thing. "He is the Britheim! He is the prophesied messiah, arriving at our hour of greatest need as was written!"

At that, everyone paused for a moment. And the, one by one, the Aeldari on his side agreed. And they all turned to him, their eyes glimmering with newfound faith and fervor. And it was in that moment that Satoru felt a sudden tugging at his soul, like a tether that connected him to those who believed in him, to those who held faith in him.

What the fuck was this?

And then, Six-Eyes showed him exactly what it was.

And Satoru did not like it.

He was gaining power from worship. They hadn't worshiped him before, but they revered him; they had faith in him and they believed, wholeheartedly, that he was the cure for their people. But now, at the mere mention of a 'Britheim', a word he'd never even heard of before, the Aeldari, who previously only believed that he could save them, suddenly looked towards him with religious and almost fanatical fervor in their eyes. He saved them. So, surely, he was their messiah, right?

Oh no.

And denying it won't work, because one of them would surely say some shit like, "Only the true Britheim denies his divinity!"

But, admitting it would have more or less the same effect.

Shit, this was... not the turn of events he'd been expecting or hoping for.

Still, the sudden and unexpected effect was that, now, there was a slow, but steady trickle of Cursed Energy, flowing right into him, emanating from each and every single one of his believers.

Shit.

"He is Britheim!" Another one pointed. "He is the savior of our people! He will bring us to paradise! How dare you raise your weapons at him! You should all be on your knees, begging him to release you from the mark of She-Who-Thirsts!"

"The Britheim will save our people!" Another Aeldari roared. "He will take us to paradise, to the promised land as was written!"

Caoimhe was the only one who seemed unconvinced by the sudden eruption of religious and fanatical fervor, which was good, because he still wanted to sleep with her and he wasn't going to do that if she suddenly started worshiping him.

The hostile Aeldari suddenly seemed... uncertain. Satoru read their body languages and he knew, immediately, that the mere mention of him being this Britheim figure made every single one of them second-guess themselves. Somehow, fanaticism was not what he'd expected from a race that was supposedly as old as the Aeldar.

"Silence!" A figure emerged from the hostile crowd, another Farseer by the looks of it – male, taller than Caoimhe, but possessed far lesser CE output than her. Satoru knew he was a Farseer, simply because of his armor, which was very similar to what Caoimhe wore. Laced upon his voice was an application of Cursed Speech, a variant of it, at least, which silenced both crowds. "I will test the prophecy myself."

Satoru grinned. Oh, this changed everything.