The plan ended up becoming way more complicated than Satoru initially expected, which – in hindsight, was something he should've expected. Actually, the plan was so ridiculously complicated that he dozed off when Caoimhe explained it to everyone, since it only made sense to Seers anyway, given their whole future sight bullshit, which was apparently the whole point of a Farseer. And now, after unlocking her full potential, Caoime Farseered the shit out of everything and came up with a very detailed plan of action that involved like a bajillion little steps. However, she was kind enough to factor his boredom into the plan itself and assigned him the more general steps that wouldn't restrain him too much.
Similarly, the Dark Aeldari, or the Drukhari, under Archon Synthrac, were given their own role to play and Binding Vows were established to make sure they didn't fuck with anything, which the Drukhari accepted begrudgingly, binding all of them at once to ensure no treachery on their end. That said, Satoru wouldn't be particularly surprised if they found a way to betray them somehow, anyway. If- no, when that happened, then he was going to blast his way into Commorragh and drown the place in Tzeentch's Cursed Spirits. But, until such a thing happened, then he was willing to work with them – literally.
Caoimhe contacted several other Craftworlds and relayed the situation. She didn't inform them of Satoru's existence just yet and he didn't bother asking, because he was NOT at all excited about purging the Thirsty Bitch's taint from billions of space elves. Just purging one Craftworld was hard enough. Oh boy, he really needed to figure out a more efficient method of doing that; otherwise, he'd die of old age before he saved the Aeldari. Then again, he didn't have to fix all of them, just enough of them to rebuild their diminished population, just enough for their future generation to not have to be afraid of getting eaten by a horny Cursed God and to not be inbred. Or whatever.
The Drukhari were directed to wage an all-out attack that was also secretly a feint against an Imperium World known as Byzandium for a very... complicated reason that involved drawing in Astartes so they could defend the world from the true threat that was coming, which was something she referred to as a Tyranid Hive Fleet – yet another looming existential threat in a galaxy that was already full of them. Whatever the case, once the Astartes were drawn into the planet, the Drukhari would immediately retreat and bide their time, hiding in the nearby stars. All the blood and death spilled in the war between the Astartes and the Tyranids would then trigger an ancient artifact of Vaul, one of the missing or dead Aeldari gods, buried deep within the world, an artifact that was supposed to form a portion of an even older device that supposedly predated the War in Heaven against the Necrons, which could then be used to blast the Outsider back to fucking sleep.
At least, that's what Caoimhe was hoping for. They called it the Breaker of the Stars, a superweapon that was forged by Vaul to combat the C'tan, but was never used because Khaine beat the shit out of Vaul for one reason or another, which somehow caused said god to scatter the parts of his weapon across several worlds.
Satoru shook his head at that one. Myths were weird. Hell, even the Shinto Myths, back in... well... back on Earth, before all his futuristic crap, were just as weird. How or why no one bothered to dig up the pieces before, Satoru did not know and neither did the Drukhari or the Asuryani. Though, Caoimhe surmised that it was due to the fact that no one could operate the weapon, not unless they had something like Six-Eyes to let them see into the fine workings of the superweapon, which was a good enough excuse, Satoru figured.
The odd part was that they were doing all of this for a weapon that wasn't even powerful enough to kill a C'tan, but merely send it back to sleep, because killing one was apparently impossible – as in physically impossible.
Anyway, his role in Caoimhe's grand plan was relatively simple: join a combined strike-force of Asuryani and Drukhari on a merry crusade to conquer yet another Imperial Planet that was known only as Hope, but only to draw the Space Wolves into the system, because the Space Dogs were apparently hunting for him, hoping for a rematch. So, it was very fortunate, then, that the Space Wolves just so happened to only be a few systems away, enough for them to reach Hope relatively quickly. The goal, apparently, was to lessen their presence from the world that they were originally attacking, Valdaris, which was conquered by the Orks at some point a few decades ago or something. And Valdaris apparently contained one of the fragments of the Breaker of the Stars.
Holy shit was Caoimhe's plan convoluted.
It made sense, however, because even the Harlequins were joining in on the fun. Specifically, they were going to hit Valdaris, alongside Caoimhe, who was personally going to lead a massive fucking Asuryani Army in a lightning strike against the Orks – not to defeat them, but merely to recover the artifact, before then fucking off and disappearing. Subsequently, Satoru's job in Hope was to just raise enough hell that the local government sounded the call for aid and reinforcements. That was literally just it. Nothing complicated. All he had to do was go in and fuck up everything and everyone.
Simple.
One glaring problem, however.
"Civilians..." Satoru repeated the word, Six-Eyes narrowed. Caoimhe's plan was as perfect as it could've been, he'd admit. Unfortunately, the Farseer failed to take into account one tiny detail. As much as Satoru liked to pretend that he did not at all care for the innocent, the opposite was true. He cared a lot. Perhaps a little too much, but he did care. And it didn't matter if they were humans or Aeldari. Innocents were innocents. "You want me to target civilians. No, not even just target; you want me to kill and terrorize them, right? Because that's the sort of thing that's necessary for them to call for aid."
The Drukhari were definitely going to enjoy this sort of thing, to be honest. The Asuryani didn't care and saw the act as no different from culling a rodent population or something. It didn't matter that there were children down there, people just living their lives, trying to make ends meet.
Satoru's voice trailed off, his normally light-hearted tone undercut with a rare note of seriousness. The silence that followed was thick, almost tangible. Caoimhe's expression remained calm, unflinching in the face of his scrutiny. Her eyes, gleaming with that ancient wisdom of a Farseer, met his gaze steadily. Satoru could feel the weight of her resolve pressing against his consciousness, a subtle nudge to understand, to accept.
"You know why this is necessary, Lord Britheim," Caoimhe said quietly, her voice a soothing whisper against the tension hanging in the air. "We are dealing with forces far beyond the comprehension of any mortal mind. To succeed, we must make sacrifices, unspeakable as they may be. It's the only way to ensure the galaxy's survival."
"Survival by sacrificing innocents?" Satoru scoffed, his Six-Eyes glowing faintly with a mix of frustration and righteous anger. "That's not survival, Caoimhe. That's just another form of losing. You should know that better than anyone."
A flicker of something – doubt, perhaps, or maybe guilt – passed through Caoimhe's eyes before it was gone, replaced by the steel of her resolve. "I do know that, Satoru," she said, her voice softening. "I know it better than anyone. Every life lost weighs on me. But this is the path the threads of fate have woven. If we falter now, countless more will suffer, will die. We cannot afford to be sentimental."
"And what about when those threads lead to a world you can't bear to sacrifice?" Satoru shot back. "What happens when it's your own people, Caoimhe? Will you still be so quick to justify it then?"
Silence. The air between them buzzed with tension, heavy with the unspoken truths that lay buried beneath the surface. Satoru's fists clenched at his sides, the hum of his Cursed Energy rising in response to his agitation. His mind raced, torn between his role in the grand scheme and the morality he clung to.
But he knew he wouldn't, couldn't, cross that line. He'd seen enough of his world's history to know where that path led – to the same darkness that had consumed so many before. The same darkness that was now manifesting as the Outsider's shadow, creeping ever closer.
"No," Satoru finally said, his voice firm, unyielding. "I won't do it. I'll cause enough chaos to draw the Space Wolves' attention, but I won't slaughter innocents. Find another way."
Caoimhe sighed, a long, slow exhalation that seemed to carry the weight of ages. "You're leaving us no choice, Satoru. If we can't draw the reinforcements to Hope, then the strike on Valdaris will fail. The artifact will be lost to the war of the Orks and the Space Wolves, and the Outsider will awaken."
"Then I'll do it alone," he snapped. "I'll handle the Orks and the Space Wolves by myself if I have to. I'll find the artifact and bring it back. We don't need to involve the civilians of Hope. We don't need to stain our hands with their blood."
The Farseer regarded him with those unfathomable eyes, the light of her craftworld reflected in their depths. For a moment, Satoru thought she might argue, might press him further. But then she simply nodded, the barest inclination of her head.
"Very well," she said. There was a twinkle in her eyes, an unspoken truth. And there, Satoru realized Caoimhe's intent – or, at least, a portion of it. For reasons known only to herself, she was putting on an act before the Drukhari and the Harlequins. "Do as you see fit, Lord Britheim. But know this: the fate of the galaxy rests on a knife's edge. One misstep, one failure, and all our efforts will be for nothing. Be careful. The Outsider is more than a god; it's a living nightmare. And nightmares, once unleashed, are not so easily put back to rest."
Satoru's gaze softened, the intensity of his Six-Eyes dimming. "I know," he murmured. "But if we lose ourselves to save the galaxy, then what's the point? I'll do it my way, Caoimhe. You can count on that."
Vlka Fenrika. That was what they called themselves, Satoru suddenly remembered. They had a grudge to settle with him. And so he'd be doing them a favor by walking right up to them. Idly, Satoru wondered just what in the blazing fuck Caoimhe's real plan was. He asked her, of course, in person, in private, but she told him – rather plainly – that, in order for her plan to succeed – he, the Honored One, the Britheim, had to remain in the dark. Fair enough. "All the forces that should've been going to Hope can be turned elsewhere."
The ghost of a smile on Caoimhe's lips told him that this was exactly what she wanted. Again, Satoru had no idea what was going on.
"I will send a detachment of Incubi to support the Lord Britheim against the Orks and the Monkeigh Brutes." Archon Synthrac added, sending a nod to Satoru. "And the Queen of Knives herself, Lelith Hesperax, has volunteered herself and the Cult of Strife to accompany the Lord Britheim on his quest, until such time as it is finished... that is, of course, if the Lord Britheim, Harbinger of the Gods, accepts her company and the company of her Wytches."
Satoru shrugged. The Wytches, he figured, were probably the hot, pale Drukhari ladies in... bikini. Yeah, actual bikini. Illogical, but damn they were fucking hot tho. "Sure. Everyone's invited to the party. Just remember that we'll be taking on a whole planet, though. So, maybe expect to die."
AN: Chapter 50 is out on (Pat)reon!