35. Lord of Poison

Shaimesh sighed in exasperation; the plans for today had reached a screeching halt, poisons to be tested on various conditions, and species shattered to nothingness.

Quite the frustrating conundrum, more so when one of his new baby toys reached a level he could call his Magnum Opus. Though ultimately, it didn't matter; he had received great, no, magnificent news.

A trail had been detected. Not any trail, one searched for by billions upon billions of his fellow Aeldari, the little group of anomalies skidding from the Seas of Souls to Realspace and disappearing through ever-expanding means have been pinpointed to one precise location in space-time.

Shaimesh was the first to be informed, as his circle of informants had noticed this peculiarity first, and he used his considerable expertise to make sure he was here before all others. He was most curious about who those individuals were to slip through the vicious grasp of the combined effort of a significant bulk of the Empire.

The preparation for an all-out assault on one of the soulless automaton bases of operations aside, a time he couldn't but eagerly anticipate. Oh, so many will meet their true death and much more; betrayal, enmity, love, and friendship will bloom, but they will not be for now. The mechanisms and pocket dimensions were hiding it where… Thoroughly extensive, significantly so, and certain gimmicks at hand, though ultimately nothing insurmountable.

But back to the anomalies.

To say they were a source of worry would be an egregiously and ridiculously false claim exclusively worthy of mockery. This was a game like many in the countless cycles. No matter if the prey was, in reality, one of the players or not, what mattered was the spectacle and the unfolding of the dark mysteries. This one was more… Public and that made it all the better, even if the competition was pitiful.

Neither lords nor ladies could have rivaled him. He was Shaimesh, the Master Assassin, the Lord of Poison, and one of the so-called Dark Muse, or so was the title given to a circle of ascended individuals found within.

"What a grotesquely strange vessel… What manner of architects would have vetoed such an unpleasant design? A bastardized copy of our immaculate greatness." He scoffed scornfully, observing the bizarre Cruiser approaching the insignificant dust ball of his fear-mongering votary and farcical lower-class cousins. It was Aeldari-like, if reminiscent of old trends, smooth and agile in design with sails, but after this, nothing was alike.

It was heavily organic in appearance, far too large to have any grace or beauty in its limited motion, and the ever-shifting color schemes were harsh on his artistic gaze. If the last was a defect or, by design, remained unknown, contrary to the Dark Muse of Toxin, Venom and Poison's wish to dismantle such an unsightly construct.

If an esteemed Aeldari built it, punishment would be heavy for such a sickening Cruiser. And if it were inferior lifeforms, then the cards were up, and everything could and would go.

And so his desires were to become a reality, with all but a mental command, his entire personal fleet phased from the Webways to Realspace, and with it, the whole might of his fleet befell the slippery vessel.

As it did, he intercepted the connection between the Cruiser and the planet's central command room and was met with a peculiar sight.

"What manner of lowly Mon'Keigh are you? To dare enter our space and violate the air with your hideous contraption and baleful presence!" He hollered, gracing the insect with his presence, yet to his shock, the liaison was cut off, and an infuriating message was left.

However, he was not affected negatively by the petty animal insult; quite the contrary, it was fascinating. With this mere glimpse, he saw that those furry multi-limbed bipedal life forms were of actual worth, the aesthetic and apparent technology unpleasant to see but adequately impressive. It opened a universe of possibilities.

-Lord Shaimesh, we cannot seem to penetrate these grotesque psychic Mon'Keigh's rather unique defense system with our current philosophy of assault.- A deep masculine but suave voice full of surprise and displeasure echoed in his mind, and he frowned, smirkingly.

-Interesting. Then change it. You are not so inept to not see that psychic energy is absorbed and reused to counteract my will. An insult that cannot go unanswered.- The Dark Muse enunciated mentally to everyone, a shiver of terror and excitement his only answer, though only for the Aeldari.

The wraithbone constructs with programming based on fulfilling every desire of their masters didn't have any emotion or a shred of sapience and, as such, worked on this new information. They were puppets operating on a subconscious level and a highly complete set of parameters. Creating sapient slaves with power was the height of madness and stupidity. Any species doing so deserved the coming annihilation.

The barrage changed, canons of all kinds and purposes shooting an ever more diverse array of projectiles of psychic energy, kinetic nature, and energy based paradoxically chaotically and harmoniously homogenized with varying geometry switching to a more approximate tactic.

The kaleidoscopic shield of the anomalous Cruiser rippled as the added supply of psychic energy was taken away in entirety from the assault, beam visible and invisible, slow or fast, pummeled the voidship with focused destruction. Gravity, magnetism, radiation, anti-matter, miniaturized supernovae, and more in diversity rained.

The results were immediate, the impressive defense system easily warding off their weaponry mere seconds ago, now cracking in hundreds of points with holes forming. Yet it never hit the vessel still. The projectiles all seemingly disappeared as if warped away to another realm. But yet again, it wasn't foolproof, and a fraction of the barrage partially slipped through.

"Fascinating..." Shaimesh said, the sight of this new, never-seen shielding technology proving worthy of a present to test its efficiency from the data collected, but first… Someone wanted to be answered, and he obliged. Who was he not to bless the local populace lord with his presence?

"What is the meaning of this attack, Shaimesh? You have no authority within this area of space. I strongly advise you and your ilk to leave at once or-" The voice of the Autarch of Altansar boomed with barely restrained rage, but alas, his asinine rant was cut short.

"Or what? Bold, so very bold… Is that a threat that I hear? Or maybe an invitation, who knows? A strongly worded complaint to come, mayhaps.

Nevertheless, I must ask, why such a reaction? Those lesser beings are but that… Lesser, truly can you enlighten me to the babble of your inner lack of ratiocination." The Lord of Poison chortled as he marveled at the hole Eldrenich was digging in.

Then there was a blinding flash of light followed by his vision spinning and his body appearing in his line of sight, his neck lacking a head, with behind a highly tall figure draped in a dark armor showing no flesh but clear of what species the wearer was. Also, behind in the air was an arcane rune shaped in the form of a five-pointed star in a circle—the heretical desecrated holy symbol of the Dark Prince.

"Oh…" He intoned with a frozen, lopsided smile as his body fell to the ground like a puppet while his head bounced on the gilded floor of the command room. Everyone around was unable to process what had unfolded.

But for the pleasingly chittering would-be assassin, Shaimesh had not died from such a mediocre blow; his everything had turned into toxic fumes faster than the winged creature could comprehend, let alone react.

He reformed unscathed right before his would-be killer, his smile larger than before as he studied the stunned creature further or its armor. Then he was bisected by another teleporting behind from a second flash of light, yet the result was quite the same.

"Brutish, fitting, and futile." He declared, a finger of his twitching resulting in the first to be engulfed by sickly purple smoke. The second had never ceased its murder attempt through a rapidly increasing array of weapons and tactics, psychic or otherwise, from explosions, shapeshifting of limbs, rapid teleportation, hidden weapons, and more.

Many of which he found surprised at himself to have piqued his interest and, if he were not who he was, would have proven… Fatal. While lacking in grace, those two were not unblooded and weak; in fact, they were almost commendable.

A fact that was not lost on the other Aeldari: his Cruiser was not the only target of such a unique counterattack in space warfare—using the psychic connection to the control rooms to warp in and attack like rabid mindless animals fueled by bloodlust and maddening hunger.

It was a deadly assault, though admittedly, the few that permanently perished didn't deserve to be at such a prestigious station. It pruned the weak and unneeded from the others still, even with the attacker far inferior number and nature by virtue of their species, it was a shockingly enough stalemate. And there was no death from the invader, not for a lack of injuries, but teleportation back to their vessel.

"Do Mon'Keigh of your kind not exhaust themselves by repeating the same patterns again and again and again with the same non-existent result?" Shaimesh boredly asked, dodging a chitinous blade that would have shredded his brain apart and another aimed to tear his heart out.

There was no answer, however, beyond a hiss and an increase in the rhythm of the 'battle' as he began to play with his captured prey, peeling off armor, fur, and skin like one would for certain fruits. All the while, a pentacle came and went behind the first interloper, trying and failing to bring it back to where it came from.

"I have reached a conclusive accord with those so-called 'lesser beings'. And I grow tired of your madness. I say enough of this sickening charade." Eldrenich's voice echoed, cutting through the chaos and garnering the Dark Muse's twisted attention, "Be gone and never come back, slave."

And so the moment after thousands of bright blooming golden flowers on Altansar, an ever more numerous rain of golden beams of pure destructive psychic energy reached the Dark Muse's meager fleet, birthing confusion and disarray within.

"How dare you!" The Lord of Poison boomed with a mix of genuine rage and befuddlement. Simultaneously, the lapse in his focus gave a chance for both intruders to escape, but not freely. Blood and limbs were left behind, and in exchange, presents of his making were given.

At the same time, all others across his dozen voidships, the bat-like assassins, disappeared, and their grotesque vessel entered the confines of the planetary shield. The Dark Muse's rage abated to frustrated comprehension of the sheer foolishness that happened and the insult toward him.

Yet it wasn't finished as what he understood was validated.

"By decree as elected Autarch of this domain and the subsequent full accords of the leading councils, I Eldrenich Raverh officially declare Altansar's former allegiance void and its independence from the fallen Aeldari Empire and its frenzied path to damnation true." Eldrenich hollered with cold certainty, his words reaching every ship at once just as the news reached his subjects.

"So be it. I will not stop you." Shaimesh sneered, cutting off the connection, his eyes gleaming with barely contained psychic power trailing over the damage done all around, and with a snap of his finger, automatons came to clean up while time was locally reversed.

-Altansar has betrayed the Empire and fallen to madness. Let us depart, but before this, may Isha's Lament bless them; let her mercy grace their lives with deaths and despair.- He telepathically proclaimed, and they began their retreat into the Webways, yet before this bellow, every ship a cannon cake into existence, their appearance akin to a lotus, one of the Merciful Mother divine icons.

Yet here it was not with worship or respect in mind. It was as an ironic, despicable derision of the All-Loving Goddess for those elegant weapons fired focused beams of a more horrifying plague. No, it was more, a memetic self-replicating poison with the only purpose of spreading and devouring the mind and soul.

But it was not rapid. It was insidious. For now, the psionic toxin would lay in wait on the shield, meticulously digging within and awaiting any weakness to infect all it touched with its blight. And Shaimesh would bide his time amidst the apparent defeat and taint on his reputation. This was far from a failed expedition.

Down on the large golden and silvery bridge of Altansar, where greenery was omnipresent, the Cruiser of the anomalies, or Khrave, docked itself, and from it, an assortment of said species walked out.

High Researcher Elkin was the first to walk out, hesitation absent from her body language while her eyes studied everything until they landed on the form of Autarch Eldrenich. Without complex ceremony, she swiftly moved to him, her size diminished by her will as she bowed respectfully.

"The Dark Coven will not forget the assistance of Altansar. The risk you have taken today will prove their worth in due time." She stated matter of factly, but satisfaction and relief were evident. Though dying was never fear, entering the Warp was a simple task, if rather destructive to its surroundings when done in haste.

"It should and would not, indeed!" A colorful, feminine figure appearing in a rain of colorful sparks exclaimed, the half crying half, laughing mask over her visage turned with the latter at an unhealthy angle as she studied the Khrave before exploding into laughter. However, it appeared to not be one strictly of her own.

"And so the children finally meet." She added before taking place behind the Autarch. His expression, for his part, was strained and stricken with conflict but rapidly coming up to terms, the clown at his not bothering him in the slightest.

"We have much to discuss upon the terms, High Researcher Elkin," Eldrenich said softly, and the Khrave nodded to the Aeldari in agreement. There was much to do.

*

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