The Drukhari left behind to cover the retreat stood no chance of surviving the onslaught of the frenzied Clan Mors vermin-host. However, through their sacrifice, Yvraine and her companions successfully vanished through the Webway gate.
Yet, once inside, the Ynnari remained wary of their supposed benefactors. No one was foolish enough to trust Asdrubael Vect, one of the three most contemptible beings in the galaxy. His bounty on Yvraine's head had remained active without pause since her flight from the arenas.
Eldrad Ulthran, Vect's long-time rival and "frenemy," remained unfazed. He stepped forward with a wry smile and remarked, "Let me guess... perhaps that bastard has finally buckled under the pressure? Is his ex-wife truly treading upon your master's head now?"
Hearing Eldrad mock the terrifying Tyrant of Commorragh so flippantly sent a shiver down the spines of the normally lawless Kabalite warriors present.
But the Seer's words held truth. Vect was a defiant iconoclast who refused to bow to or believe in any god. In an age where the Aeldari had no divine protection, such a stance was tenable. But now, with the power of Isha manifest, the tides had shifted. To avoid being consumed by Slaanesh upon death, Aeldari across the galaxy were throwing themselves into Isha's embrace.
Shrines to Isha were being erected on Craftworlds, among the Exodites, and even within the dark spires of Commorragh. The only difference was that Lady Malys's faction did so openly, while Vect's sycophants did so in the shadows.
Vect's terrifying authority, cultivated over twenty millennia, was eroding rapidly. He understood that he needed a new divine patron to maintain his grip, but he would never kneel to Isha, an old goddess who had once held dominion over his ancestors. Thus, the unborn god of death, Ynnead, became his ultimate target.
Vect intended to hold this nascent deity in his palm, starting with the very fugitive who had escaped his grasp.
"My apologies, I am not privy to the Archon's reasons..." the Drukhari Archon stammered in fear. Under heavy escort, the Ynnari were brought swiftly into the depths of the Dark City.
Commorragh remained a nightmare of jagged spires and barbed hooks, festooned with desiccated corpses and gasping slaves. Yet, amidst this architectural horror, a few jarringly different structures had appeared: temples to Isha. These were the only buildings in the city that radiated a semblance of warmth. Inside, even the most depraved Drukhari were forced to feign a modicum of "kindness" to court the Mother Goddess's favor.
Eventually, the group, including Yvraine, Eldrad, and Lelith, was led into Vect's primary estate.
The palace did not appear overtly grand, but it was filled with Drukhari who looked both impeccably dignified and patently evil. Female slaves from humanity and the Aeldari, clad in gossamer silks, moved with trembling caution as they served the elite. Yvraine passed through them until several Archons pushed open a massive, bronze-like portal, revealing a space that suddenly transitioned from a narrow corridor to a vast arena.
This darkened stadium was packed with high-ranking Drukhari and their consorts. Vect sat at the center in a primary VIP seat.
"What is this? Do you seek a spectacle?" Lelith Hesperax asked, devoid of fear. As the undisputed Queen of the Wych Cults, she scanned the Archons in the stands with a look of pure contempt.
"Oh~ the arenas are so tedious without you, Lelith~!" shouted at least half the audience. Many were her devoted fans and cheered her presence shamelessly.
The clamor died down instantly when Vect offered a slow, rhythmic clap. The ancient monster, older than Slaanesh itself, fixed his pitch-black eyes on the Ynnari.
"So... did you obtain what you sought?"
"What concern is that of yours?" Yvraine countered sharply.
Surprisingly, the ultimate bastard of the galaxy did not take offense. It was likely he had already exhausted his store of rage dealing with Malys's Kabal of the Poisoned Tongue.
"You wish to resurrect some god of death, do you not? Come then, let me witness it." In Vect's tone, Yvraine heard the dismissive arrogance of a man who viewed the birth of Ynnead as nothing more than a circus act.
Eldrad Ulthran finally spoke. "This is no simple task. Though we have the five Croneswords, we require a suitable location and a proper ritual. I trust a 'tycoon' of your stature can provide the necessary accommodations?"
He paused, narrowing his eyes. "Furthermore, given our history, do you think I don't see what you're after?"
"Heh, quite right... Eldrad, only you truly understand. Since you know my intent, you know that for now, at least, I am your 'dearest friend~' Heh heh heh~" Vect's laugh sounded like a jagged blade drawn across a throat.
The High Farseer turned to Yvraine and the others, whispering a few words. They eventually nodded in grim agreement.
"Very well. Let us thank you in advance for your 'assistance~'"
"Good. Escort them to their quarters. Give them whatever they require," Vect commanded.
…
Every detail of this meeting was witnessed by Lucius. Normally, even a Chaos God would find it difficult to peer into the Webway due to the psychoreactive materials lining its tunnels. Unless a god expended significant effort to spy, they usually ignored the inner workings of the Dark City.
However... within the filthy, chaotic sub-city of Commorragh, there lived untold trillions of rats. The Drukhari executioners even favored "Rat Torture" for their entertainment.
Where there are rats, the Great Horned Rat is omnipresent. To Lucius, spying on Commorragh was no different than looking into the Materium.
"Hehe, everything is going so smoothly... It won't be long before I take you down, Slaanesh."
Lucius, with a naked Isha in his arms, nodded in satisfaction and muttered to himself.
"You... you truly intend to deal with that one?" Isha asked, her voice a mix of shock and terror. How could a Chaos God be truly "dealt with," even by another of their kind?
"Why not?" Lucius grinned. In the lore of Age of Sigmar, Slaanesh was undone simply by gorging on too many elven souls, resulting in a divine "indigestion" that allowed the Prince of Pleasure to be captured and subjected to aeons of torment.
While Slaanesh wasn't "overstuffed" yet in this universe, the birth of Ynnead presented a golden opportunity. Even if Ynnead couldn't kill Slaanesh, the god of death would certainly make the Dark Prince suffer.
And would Khorne, Slaanesh's arch-rival, or even the Emperor of Mankind pass up such an opening?
Lucius stood up. "Alright, it's time to demonstrate the Great Horned Rat's brand of diplomacy. But before I depart, how do you intend to reward me for all the work I'm doing on your behalf?"
Was it truly for Isha? Of course not. The Great Horned Rat simply wanted to complete his plan of dominating the Warp and becoming a living "Games Workshop." To do that, he had to claim the points of Chaos' Eight-Pointed Star one by one.
Slaanesh, the weakest and the one he already had a plan for, was target number one.
Isha blushed, lowering her head, and slowly knelt before him, beginning to repay him in the manner of the Aeldari.
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