Celestia was alone.

How long she had been alone, she could not say; time had blurred after her discussion in the Black Library, after what scant knowledge the Eldar offered was gifted to her, and the path to Commorragh was a quiet one. The Harlequins had provided escorts, but as was typical of their kind they clung to the shadows just out of sight, never addressing her as she walked towards the Dark City.

So she was alone. For once in the many centuries that she had lived, Celestia was fine with that.

The Webway was much like its creators, hauntingly beautiful yet subtly perverse in its appearance. The path Celestia walked was wide enough to accommodate two Emperor-Class Titans walking abreast, every step she took humming with residual psychic energy left from its construction. Pylons and arches swept upward into nothingness, closing in those walking below while also giving the illusion of a vast, infinite expanse above. Structures that might have once served as sentry towers or even apartments dotted the space between the pylons, shimmering like sunlit water in the low light cast by the Webway’s energy. There was no wind, nothing that would break the stillness beyond the sound of Celestia’s boots on Wraithbone, yet Celestia still fought back a chill on her spine the further she walked.

The Eldar always wanted to intimidate the “lesser” races. Even if one of the “lesser” race’s gods walked among their paths.

Celestia stopped, allowing her power to drift forward through the Webway. Rather than the lashing tides of the Warp, she felt a faint prickling as if a hundred hands were reaching out to touch her. Whispers of long dead Eldar drifted into her mind, their stories and memories mingling with her own for the briefest of instances. Celestia grimaced, pushing the memories out of her mind as she tried to narrow her power and locate Commorragh among the vast expanses of the Webway.

For a hive of debauchery, it is superb at staying hidden from my view.

“You need not search too far for what you seek.” Celestia said nothing as the Harlequin drifted behind her. She recalled her power, turning to face the Eldar as it flickered in her vision. “Those of the Dark City will find you. All that remains is for you to find your prize within.”

“No doubt.” Celestia replied. “You will not follow.”

“Our paths do not cross with yours within Commorragh.” The Harlequin replied. “Until such a time our master deems it, you will be on your own.”

“I am no stranger to being on my own.” Celestia turned away, shifting her armor as she started off down the path. “If you have nothing more to say, I bid you farewell.”

“Look where your steps fall, Empress,” the Harlequin called as it and its fellows faded from Celestia’s sight. “Lest your path become your undoing.” Celestia pushed the Eldar’s comments out of her mind, taking a lower path as she continued in search of Commorragh. The Eldar seemed content to prophecy about her death, but as long as they did not seek to slow her progress she would ignore them for now.

They could certainly make themselves more useful than mere speculation.

As she walked, she could feel a presence drifting after her. Briefly she considered the Dark God returning to torment her, a few barbs to throw off her focus on finding Commorragh. But the presence never drew closer, content to linger at the edge of her perception the further she walked into the Webway. Ignoring proved fruitless, as it continued to prod at Celestia’s soul the longer she traveled in silence.

The daemon was getting craftier. That, or some new threat sought to torment her.

Finally, something broke the silence. The low whine of repulsor lifts, drifting and curving around the arches of the Webway. Celestia stopped, keeping her hands to her side as she prepared to receive the newcomers. She did not have to wait long before a boat-like Raider and a trio of smaller crafted darted around one of the larger pylons, the xenos flotilla speeding through the air at speeds even the craziest of pilots might balk at. They did slow as they approached, two of the smaller craft twisting to get behind Celestia while the Raider and its immediate escort swooped in from above.

Celestia did not move. She merely reached out through the Warp.

A group of figures dropped from the Raider, sauntering towards Celestia as they fingered curved blades. The leader, a taller specimen with a belt made of human skulls, chuckled behind his helmet before speaking. “Well, what do we have here? A Mon’Keigh lost in the Webway.”

“Look at its hair,” one of the escorts sneered. “It’s as if it wishes to be spotted and killed.”

“I say we kill it now and bring its head back to Commorragh,” a third said. “It would make for a fine war trophy, no?”

“Stay your scheming, xenos,” Celestia said, keeping her voice calm even as she reached out further into the Warp. “I have business in Commorragh and have no quarrel with you. You will take me to Asdrubael Vect, and your lives will be spared.” this caused the leader and his entourage to laugh.

“It thinks to petition the Drukhari!” the leader laughed. “Oh, I am positively trembling right now! What other requests will it make, I wonder? Perhaps ask to drink from Slaanesh’s tits themselves?” the Dark Eldar continued to laugh, while Celestia finally reached her goal: quietly encapsulating every small craft and most of the Raider’s crew with her power, a slight pressure that only heralded the might she carried.

“You misunderstood me,” Celestia said. “That was not a request. That was an order.” With that Celestia closed her right hand into a fist. Instantly the three escorts groaned before crushing inward, exploding into balls of fire as their engines caved under the strain. The Raider captain whipped around as dozens of his fellows cried out, desperately clawing at their armor as Celestia’s magic pushed against it. Their screams were soon overcome by a sickening crunch, the crew falling limp as Celestia flicked her hand away, tossing the bodies aside like so much rubbish.

“How soon can you get me to Vect?” Celestia asked. The Dark Eldar captain turned back to her, trembling with rage.

“You...” the Dark Eldar hissed. “You bitch! Do you know how long it took me to beat those whelps into submission!? I’ll kill you for this!” the alien raised his sword and charged, but Celestia had already drawn her blade and struck, a curtain of fire incinerating the Dark Eldar before its feet even left the ground.

Silence reigned, Celestia resting the tip of her sword on the ground as she sized up the surviving Dark Eldar. “At the risk of repeating myself, how soon can you get me to Vect?”

“Just a few minutes, human,” one of the Eldar said quietly, pushing its fellows back towards the Raider. “This way, please... and thank you for the promotion.”

“Don’t press your luck, xenos.” Celestia growled, returning her sword to her hip as she approached the lowering Raider. The xenos gave her space as she came aboard, quietly signaling to one another to get moving as their passenger took up a spot near the bow of the Raider.

The xenos turned their Raider around and sped off, what few remaining tending to the sails while Celestia stared off into the dark. The old pylons and orderly thoroughfares of the old Eldar Empire sped past, a multicolored blur that would have captivated Celestia if her mission were less urgent. The Dark Eldar likewise shared her focus, though whether it was out of fear or determination Celestia could not say.

Soon, the light around them faded, replaced by a sickly glow that grew brighter as the Raider continued on its course. Ahead, Celestia could see a great mass rising from the shadows, twisting up into the Webway without care for precision or regulation more common in the old ruins. We have arrived.

Commorragh soon enveloped the raider, a teeming hive of activity barely shrouded in its all encompassing shadows. Raiders, jetbikes, and fighters darted through the spires of the Dark City, their pilots buzzing one another in a deadly dance of one-upmanship many would not walk away from. Below, Celestia could see numerous apartment blocks and markets, xenos merchants hocking everything from weapons to slaves for all that would be buying. A large arena rose from the shadows, loud cheers coming from the crowds as whatever spectacle they were witnessing reached its climax.

Beneath everything was the screaming. Physical screaming could only carry so far, but Celestia could hear deeper than any other mortal. It wove itself into the very fabric of Commorragh, a persistent wailing of billions of souls stretched across fifteen thousand years. Even if her original plans had progressed, and she had sent Horus to burn this place to the ground, the scars and screaming would remain, boring into all that stood in the Dark City.

The cries of souls lost within the Warp could be silenced, for a time, but standing within the dark heart of the Webway was to stand within the center of the storm, Celestia bristling as pain and suffering poured against her mind. And the xenos reveled in it, their wicked souls rising beyond to drink of the suffering and the tortured. Their cackles (much like the screaming) could not be heard with the mortal ear, but to Celestia’s mind the macabre cacophony followed her deeper into the hovels of the Dark Eldar, rising as she drew closer to her final destination.

Celestia shifted as the Raider began to decelerate. “This is not the hall of Vect,” she said.

“We are not of the Black Heart,” the leading Dark Eldar countered. “You have power, Mon’Keigh, but even you cannot draw us across the lines of Vect’s Kabal that easily.”

“I cannot?” Celestia asked, looking ahead as the Raider came to a stop. A number of Warriors broke from the crowds of non-combatants, bladed rifles at the ready as Celestia stepped off the Raider and drew her sword. “But who will deliver the message that I request an audience with Vect?”

“Ask one of his warriors. We will not have any part in-” the Eldar never finished, for Celestia reached out with her magic once more and flicked outward. The Raider exploded, Celestia barely flinching as shrapnel whistled past her ear. The Warriors of the Black Heart took a step back, only a few losing their marks as the fireball behind Celestia died down.

“Listen now, xenos!” Celestia shouted, her voice carrying through the entire plaza. “I am the Empress of Mankind, Master of Humanity and Lord of the Imperium! I seek no quarrel with you, only an audience with your master, but I will not hesitated to obliterate your souls if I am turned away!” The xenos would not listen to her words, arrogant as their kind was, but her actions would no doubt catch the eyes of some among the crowd.

Hopefully, it caught the eye of the one she sought out.

“Well?” Celestia asked. “How many of you do I have to kill before I am granted an audience with Vect?” there was a pause before a fully armored Eldar stepped from the crowd. This one made a wise choice in staying out of Celestia’s reach, tucking behind its fellows before it spoke.

“What business do you have with us, Mon’Keigh?” the Eldar asked.

“There is an artifact of mine that is hidden away here,” Celestia replied. “I would like his assistance in finding it.” A pause before the Eldar laughed.

“Some ruler you are, that you come like a common beggar seeking help from a king,” the alien laughed before continuing. “But come, ‘Empress’; perhaps Lord Vect will deign to assist you in your little ‘quest’. It would prove quite the amusing spectacle.” The Eldar signaled to his fellows, who cautiously put up their guns and stepped aside to allow Celestia some room. She scanned the crowds, looking for any sign of other threats lurking in the shadows, before lowering her sword and stepping forward.

“Lead on, xenos,” she said. The Eldar nodded, turning and marching off into the crowd with his Warriors following. Celestia kept pace, the thudding of her boots against the ground more than enough to signal her passing and force the crowds apart for the entourage. The Eldar said nothing, keeping their eyes forward as they led the newcomer deeper into their territory.

They do not fear me fully... Celestia thought. Perhaps that can be changed...

The docks of Commorragh were quiet, only a few frigates and empty cargo ships tied off to keep the slaves and lesser Drukhari busy. Those who were tasked with guarding the docks busied themselves with other matters, some idly chatting with one another while others took potshots at whichever slave they had grown bored with watching.

Their lives did not matter. Only their suffering.

There was a pause from the boredom, a small bell chiming the arrival of a new ship. It was a large bodied slave ship, no doubt loaded with humans and other lesser creatures bound for the markets of the Dark City. The ship came in slowly, its sail-like wings twisting ever so slightly to accommodate the docks as it pulled up. The dockmaster paused slightly when he noticed the symbol of the Black Heart upon the hull of the vessel, a prominent display so that all would know that it's cargo was the property of Vect himself.

Such matters would have to be taken with the utmost care.

“Light cut, brothers,” the dockmaster hissed to the Warriors that joined him. “We might not be making much of a profit off this one.” some of the Warriors grumbled, but said nothing more as they stepped up to the main cargo ramp. “Well, open up then! What trinkets do you have for us?”

The door opened slowly, revealing a largely empty hold. Only one figure stood within, and as it strode forward the dockmaster could see it was a human, one of the Space Marines that loved to try and take the Dark City. This one was clad in turquoise armor, decorated to look like the scales of some reptile, and he carried with him a bronze spear sharpened at both ends. “Pardon me, good sir,” the human started, continuing down the ramp even as the Dark Eldar raised their weapons towards him. “But would you be so kind as to point me towards the arena? I am told a great battle is to be held there today and I would love to witness it.”

“That’s far enough, Mon’Keigh!” the dockmaster spat, drawing his blaster and aiming it at the human. “Who do you think you are, stealing a ship of Lord Vect and ordering us around.”

“I did not steal this ship, xenos,” the human replied. “But to answer your first question, that is quite simple. I am Alpharius.” the Eldar appeared frozen before Alpharius charged, sweeping his spear out towards the group. None of them could respond, the blade slicing through their armor as if it were air, a trail of dark smoke wafting across the Primarch’s armor as the energies of the Pale Blade disintegrated the Eldar body and soul.

No sooner had Alpharius made his presence known did the dock explode into activity. Alpha Legion specialists popped out from structural points of the slave ship, captured Stalker boltguns barking as the Astartes dropped one sentry after another. Some of the Warriors rallied to challenge Alpharius, only to find themselves shanked by glassy eyed slaves eager to please their true master. Alpharius strode forward calmly, stepping around the bodies of fallen Eldar as his sleeper agents and snipers did their work. He stopped once he came to the edge of the docks, peering out at the Dark City as he rested the Pale Blade on his shoulder.

Soon the sound of violence behind him ceased, and he was soon joined by the leader of the veteran squad he had brought. “The xenos have been silenced.”

“Good. Leave them as they are; it will draw more attention to the docks.” Alpharius scanned Commorragh once more. “Where are the rest of our agents?”

“With a little assistance, we have positioned them within striking distance of the Archons indicated,” the Astartes passed Alpharius a short list of names. “Most importantly, one is being used as a ‘plaything’ for the guards of Vect’s vault.”

“I doubt activating that one will deliver the Anathame into my hands,” Alpharius looked over the list. “Too spread out, for now. How long until the duel?”

“Soon, my lord.” the Astartes replied. “Two hours, at most. It promises to be quite a fight, for what these xenos consider a fight.” This one might be a bit too bloodthirsty, Alpharius thought. I will deal with that... someday.

“That will do.” Alpharius took up his spear up again before continuing. “Stick to the shadows, but make sure the ritual is completed in the open. The more destruction Fulgrim can cause, the better.”

“We will not fail you, my lord.”

“I know.” Alpharius started off, searching for a new vessel to carry him to Commorragh and to Vect’s Vault. “In the meantime, I have a sword to steal.”

The Dark Eldar of the Black Heart led Celestia to a small landing pad, hustling her aboard a second Raider and off towards their final destination. Ahead, Celestia could see a massive structure, a ziggurat of black metal and Wraithbone hovering over a section of the Dark City on dozens of archaeotech lifts. Gun emplacements and sentries swiveled to meet the Raider, dropping their alert only when they were sure the newcomers were “friendlies”.

How they would have reacted had they known she stood in their midst, Celestia could not say.

Another minute of flying, and the Raider touched down on a central pad near the top of the ziggurat. Ahead, she could see a female Eldar flanked by two Incubi, the armored Eldar watching Celestia’s every move as she stepped off the Raider. Immediately a score of guns trained themselves on their form, Warriors and Trueborn stepping from the shadows to strike her down should the need arise.

“You are the one who calls themselves Empress of Mankind,” the leader said, her voice harsh and piercing.

“I am she,” Celestia replied. “I suppose you know why I am here?”

“I am not privy to that which is my master’s concern,” the Eldar replied. “But come, he is expecting you.” the Eldar barked a few words in her native tongue, most of the soldiers surrounding Celestia backed off as two more Incubi stepped behind her, the Eldar silent save for the faint sound of their armor grinding against the handles of their klaives. Celestia kept her eyes on the leader, lest her escorts take some issue with her and attack.

Knowing the Dark Eldar, that might happen regardless.

The Dark Eldar entered a corridor that could best be described as a shrine to torture. Skinned skeletons human and alien hung from the walls and ceiling on chains, the rings sharpened so they cut into what remained of flesh and bone. Skulls hovered in various states of dissection and decay, pulled apart by tiny fibres and held aloft by xenotech gravity fields. Chunks of flesh and organs were roughly impaled on hooks and spikes, most still pulsing with faint signs of life as if they had been freshly ripped from their owner’s bodies. The floor squished under Celestia’s boot, a quick glance downward confirming that the victims above had provided their skin for a macabre rug beneath.

She did what she could to ignore the low moan of pain that followed her steps.

An eternity down the hall led to a large atrium, the Incubi fanning out to fill the space as Celestia continued onward. The air was thick with incense mixed with the metallic smell of blood, a low whine of some alien tune weaving through the space from parts unknown. Ahead, the leading Eldar knelt, keeping her eyes low so as not to meet the gaze of her master. He was lounging on a throne of tanned leather, a glass of wine in one hand and a sword in the other. Two scantily clad maidens clung to the base of his throne, eyeing Celestia with an air of bemusement as she stopped in the center of the room.

Asdrubael Vect gave her only one glance. That would be enough.

“My Lord Vect,” Celestia’s “guide” said. “The Mon’Keigh Empress, as you commanded.”

“Unspoiled, I presume?” Vect asked, his voice low and smooth. “I will see what she has to say. Leave me.” Vect’s concubines rose, sauntering off with the guide and her entourage as Celestia was left alone with the Lord of the Black Heart and his bodyguards. There were a pause before Vect spoke.

“I presume you have had quite a journey to find me, ‘Empress’,” he said, taking a sip from his wine. “Can I offer you a drink? Perhaps something to eat?”

“I did not come to make pleasantries, Vect,” Celestia replied, keeping her voice even. The Eldar did not appear surprised.

“Of course not.” Vect said. “Coming alone, though, makes me wonder if what you see is truly in the best interests of your kind...” Celestia said nothing, watching as the Eldar Lord fiddled with his sword before continuing. “So, my dear, what can I do for you?”

“I am sent from the Black Library to find an artifact under your care,” Celestia said. “I do not seek a fight, only a chance to peruse your relics for some idea as to what it might be.” at this, Vect threw back his head and laughed.

“That’s it?” he asked, his laughter dying down to chuckles. “You come all the way to my throne and ask to a trinket? Not, say, the thousands of souls that still pray for your deliverance?”

“Why ask for something I know I will achieve?” Celestia countered. This only drew more laughter.

“Ah, this is why I love you Mon’Keigh so much,” Vect rose, setting his sword against his throne as he strode towards Celestia. “You stand with the universe in your grasp, so confident that you truly are the master of all you see.” Vect gave Celestia a thin smile. “And then I watch as everything you build comes crashing down around you. It is so sweet to see those like you come down to the level of one such as me.”

“You consider yourself low?”

“When one stands at the base of a pillar, they can in a way see more than those that stand atop it.” Vect drifted around Celestia’s side as he continued. “I am who I always was, and always will be; a being driven by desire, lust, power. You have lived as a god for so long that you cannot even begin to see the galaxy for what it is- a cesspool of death and violence, thousands begging for a sweet release that they know will never come. You come with me in confidence, thinking that this relic you see will be the answer to your current woes, the thirsting of this Dark God you humans conjured, but you and I both know that it is only one more step in the path of suffering you now follow.”

“And I suppose you have a better solution?” Celestia countered. “You who hide away in dark hovels, latched on to the galaxy like the parasite you are?”

“We have survived for longer than you have against the night.”

“I hardly call cowardice synonymous with survival.” Vect said nothing, and Celestia could not feel any emotions radiating from the alien as he completed his circle of her. “The Dark God will come for Commorragh, whether you like it or not. You will have no choice but to fight when the time comes.”

“So a dog asks its master for an alliance?”

“More like a dog warns the flea of its extermination.” there was a pause before Vect chuckled again.

“I like you, human. And there are few among your species that I actually like.” he pointed to a tapestry on Celestia’s right, a bloody thing sewn from different shades of skin. “Those ones, for instance, were a little more mouthy than you, but I made sure to give them some... dignity.” Celestia remained silent, tamping down her rage as Vect drifted back to his throne.

“If you are so set on this mad scheme of yours,” Vect said, taking another drink from his wine. “I suppose I might allow you to look through my collection. Perhaps one of my prizes might be a god killer from centuries past...”

“You are being more helpful than I could have imagined.” Celestia said.

“If waiting for your disappointment is considered helpful.” Vect took a seat, keying in a code from a hidden panel on one arm rest. His chair drifted, the back wall behind him sliding down as Celestia felt the floor beneath her feet shift. “Before though, perhaps some entertainment? I had hoped a little spectacle would lighten your mood.”

“You’re too kind.” Celestia droned, but she still found herself walking towards the new window. The ziggurat was now floating over a large arena, a star-shaped structure that would have put the greatest circuses and coliseums of Ancient Terra to shame. Banners from all manner of cults and lesser kabals fluttered above the stadium, thousands of Eldar reveling in bloodlust as warriors and fodder lined up for the day’s games. Celestia could see small figures moving about, Vect giving a wave of his hand so the view increased just as a scantily clad wytch gutted an ork boy like a fish.

“A slaver by the name of Anith Dazeem has a prized champion among his pit fighters,” Vect said, sloshing his wine in the cup before continuing. “So arrogant is this slaver he thinks to gain my favor by sponsoring these games to showcase his fighter, to show he has captured one of the most dangerous beasts in the galaxy. I, in the spirit of competition, have chosen a good match for his champion, and wish him the best in his challenge.” Celestia paused, watching as a new figure stepped out into the ring. Like most wytches it was a woman, clad only in a leather top and thong. Her hair was put up in a long topknot, small blades tied at the ends shimmering as she stepped lightly through the carnage. She carried with her two long knives, held loosely at her sides as she eyed the crowd, drinking in the roars of approval from her appearance.

“Ah, Lelith,” Vect mused, drawing Celestia’s attention away for a moment. “So beautiful, so deadly, the true exemplar of our kind and her sex. I would take her as a consort if I cared not for my life, and my patronage helps keep her on good footing, as it were.” Celestia fought the urge to gag, but said nothing as she turned back to the arena. The crowd was chanting once more, eyeing the point where this new champion would reveal themselves.

They did not have to wait for long.

The figure did not wait for the trap door to open, bashing his way through in a rush to get out. He stood taller than most men, taller than most Astartes, his body revealed to all beneath the makeshift armor on his arms and legs. His mustache was thick yet unkempt, no doubt from whatever harsh conditions the xenos kept him in. He carried a large curved sword, the blade caked with the blood of who knew how many beasts and champions. The champion took a moment to survey his surroundings before taking the sword in a two handed grip, sliding into a defensive position as he eyed the Eldar wytch on the other end of the arena.

Celestia’s breath caught. “Jaghatai...”

“Something the matter, my dear?” Vect asked, smirking from his throne. “Perhaps the games are not to your liking?” Celestia stopped herself from chewing her lip, keeping her eyes fixed on the battle unfolding below. More beasts and warriors poured into the arena, from aspiring wyches to feral Ambulls, creating a quagmire of blades and claws the two champions would have to prove their mettle against. The Khan kept his distance, taking more time to size up his opponents before going for a strike, while Lelith ducked through the mass of fighters in search of a target to kill. The wytch moved quickly, spinning and diving around her opponents before striking with precise stabs, a score of captives falling dead behind her as she worked her way towards the Khan.

“... No, nothing is wrong,” Celestia said. “Your battles are not exactly different from anything I have had to face in my life.” the Khan moved, smashing the flat of his blade into the face of a captive Rak’gol before twisting about and stabbing the beast through on its own spear. He appeared to keep space between himself and Lelith, perhaps hoping the Eldar would tire herself out before he would move in for the kill.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Vect replied. “We are both old enough that the thrill of battle and carnage has worn thin, a mere curiosity compared to what we truly wish to achieve.” He gave a chuckle as Lelith pounced on a captive warrior, wrapping her legs around the man’s throat before gouging his eyes out with her knives. “But as I am not one to place myself above the rabble, I probably understand the thrill more than you do.”

“Battle is not a celebration to revel in, only an action to conduct.”

“Your son seems to be of the same cut.” Celestia said nothing, though she could feel her heart quickening. “A surprisingly cautious fighter. I am honestly shocked that one of your kind would be so careful in their actions.”

“Perhaps you must raise yourself out of the rabble to expand your vision.”

“I have been there. I found it... boring.” Jaghatai and Lelith finally worked their way through the melee, the wytch leaping off the back of a falling Ambull and diving down towards the Primarch. The Khan quickly blocked, stepping back as the wytch whipped her weapons about in search of a weak spot.

Celestia paused, a tremor running through her perception. A shadow, drifting through the hold of the ziggurat, testing her vision both mortal and psychic. An assassin, perhaps? But then what assassin would locate themselves hundreds of metres below her?

Unless...

“Something the matter?” Vect asked.

“You have an intruder,” Celestia said, keeping her eyes forward. “Down within your fortress. I don’t know who or how they got here, and I would be happy to leave them to their work against you, but for the sake of your willingness to help me then I felt the need to warn me.”

“Is there, now?” Vect replied, his voice still as smooth as ever. “A crafty fellow, perhaps. No matter, he is far away and will be dealt with.”

“You show no concern for this?” Celestia asked, turning her head slightly to meet the alien’s eyes. Vect appeared passive, but she could see a faint flicker of... something.

“One intruder on his own, in a place that is not really of much interest to me, is not a threat I would put much stock into.” Vect grinned. “Several others, creeping through the shadows in search of a target, that I would care more for.” Celestia paused, turning back to the arena as she reached further with her power. The intruder below, she could still feel, but there were other points of shadow among the mass of pain and suffering, slowly drifting at the field of her vision.

And even she could not ignore the subtle, bitter taste of Chaos.

“The games are a setup,” she said. “You intend to kill the champion using Chaos Marine infiltrators.”

“Is that what I am doing?” Vect asked in mock surprise. “Why, how ever could you come to that conclusion?” Celestia’s hand falls to her sword out of reflex, drawing a few glances from the Incubi surrounding their employer. “The champion means nothing. He is just another Mon’Keigh warrior that will fight and suffer in the arena, as countless have done before. But a parasite that thinks mere strength is enough to impress me...” the Eldar shrugged. “So what if there are a few pieces of collateral damage in the process?”

The shadows drifted, congregating towards one another. Even if their target was the slaver that had drawn Vect’s ire, the fact was Jaghatai was still in the middle of this struggle... but perhaps, not alone.

“You wish to humiliate and kill the slaver,” Celestia said, taking her sword but keeping it down at her side. “Fine. What matter are your politics to me? But I will be taking his champion; all the more to show how powerless this creature is.”

“You are starting to think like me.” Vect grinned. Celestia did not bother to give the xenos an answer, channeling her power as she reached out towards the arena. She found an open spot among the fighters, and with a flash she disappeared as she teleported to Jaghatai’s aid.

The Khan would not need it, or at least deny that he did. But for those around him, perhaps an Empress would be the ultimate relief.

Vect waited after the Empress disappeared, watching for any sign of treachery. No doubt the woman wished his destruction, as any of that lesser species would, but as she was so wrapped up in saving her ilk there would be no real danger. He chuckled, settling back in his chair as he took another drink of wine.

“Well, Mon’Keigh, you promised me a show,” he said. “Impress me.”

Author's Notes:

If the first part of this chapter seems familiar, I had just started writing it when April Fool's came around and I wrote "Pillars". I'm lazy and I'm not going to change it.

More fun* in Commorragh will be had in the coming chapters, and limbs will most definitely be flying.

Thanks once more to Deatheater55 for the editing help. Likes and comments are appreciated, and if I screwed something up please let me know.