"Supreme Keeper of Secrets of the Prince of Pleasure, the so-called Scourge of Hell, dares to challenge me?!"
Ka'Bandha bared a savage grin, tusks interlocking.
His dreadful voice echoed through the palace, demonic might shaking the walls:
"To challenge a Supreme Bloodthirster, the Great Reaper of Skulls, the Daemon of the Changer of Ways, the Flame of the Accursed One, and… the lifelong nemesis of the Savior?"
This Supreme Bloodthirster, ever since facing the flames of the Accursed in the Garden of Nurgle, had been immersed in deep recovery.
Now Ka'Bandha had built up far more resistance to that cursed energy—enough to withstand the Savior's holy weapons!
Even if another super-massive holy weapon detonated within the Garden of Nurgle,
He was confident he could survive.
Even when confronted by the fire of the Accursed One, he could now endure for more than thirty breaths of time.
Unlike the other Greater Daemons, he would not be reduced to ash.
And thus, he held firm faith that he could challenge and defeat the Savior!
Alas, that Savior had not shown himself in the galaxy of late. No one knew where he was hiding.
So Ka'Bandha had remained dormant.
In his mind, none in either the Immaterium or the galaxy were worthy of being called his foe—save for the Savior.
Perhaps the Dark Prince counted as half a rival?
That wager he once made with the Dark Prince had ended inconclusively, for the flames of the Accursed One had set ablaze the Garden of Nurgle.
There was no true victor.
In hindsight, Ka'Bandha decided:
The Dark Prince had won advantage only by relying on the Godplague. That was not true valor.
Besides, the Dark Prince could never compare to the Savior!
Ka'Bandha rose from his throne, his colossal form radiating oppressive menace.
Lately, the Supreme Keeper of Secrets under the Prince of Pleasure—the Scourge of Hell, Shalaxi—had been spreading laughable words.
She had proclaimed that she could defeat him and seize the title of greatest Greater Daemon of the Immaterium.
What a farce.
Ka'Bandha had not intended to bother with it.
But since he had not fought for some time, perhaps it would be fitting to meet her in battle.
He would treat it as a warm-up before facing the Savior.
He resolved that the Scourge of Hell would suffer the most miserable of defeats—
And understand how vast the gulf was between herself, a Supreme Bloodthirster, and the Savior!
Ka'Bandha summoned his cunning lieutenant, Baal the Destroyer, to counsel him.
He wanted the Scourge of Hell's humiliation to be absolute.
Soon, under Baal's advice, Ka'Bandha devised a battle plan that could crush her.
Then, he roared for the daemon legions to muster.
The long-silent Supreme Bloodthirster… marched to war!
"Where is Ka'Bandha?!"
Within the Brass Hall, the blood-god's manifestation rose in blazing wrath.
He had just sounded the Brass Horn to summon the hosts, to strike against the Prince of Pleasure's designs in Commorragh.
Yet Ka'Bandha had ignored the summons, not appearing in the Brass Hall.
What defiance was this?
Even if he was the most favored of lieutenants, the mightiest of Greater Daemons, it was not to be tolerated!
"Hmph! For Ka'Bandha to spurn the great Blood God's summons, he will suffer grievous punishment!"
The former First Captain of the Bloodthirsters, Anggrath, rejoiced in secret, his joy leaking onto his face.
Many other Greater Daemons of Khorne felt the same.
But soon news arrived of the Supreme Bloodthirster.
Buzz—
Ka'Bandha's shadowed image projected into the Hall.
He stood upon the Blood God's own ancient brass war-chariot, fire rising around him, while his cloak of skulls darkened the sky.
They were the skulls of countless species across the galaxy, and of mighty daemons—trophies and ornaments of the highest order.
It was as though a human were to wear a chain of gold and jewels from head to toe, gaudy, domineering, and resplendent.
No other Bloodthirster dared meet his gaze.
Simply standing atop that war-chariot, Ka'Bandha radiated an unstoppable aura.
"Blood God, forgive me for not answering your call. The Scourge of Hell, the Prince's pet, has defiled our honor.
I must march at once to smite her, and shatter the Prince of Pleasure's schemes in Commorragh…"
Ka'Bandha paused, then declared firmly:
"When I return in triumph, I will personally present myself for your punishment!"
"What?
We were still debating the matter of Commorragh, and Ka'Bandha has already marched out?!"
Anggrath and the others were dumbfounded. That speed was absurd.
Even the dullest Greater Daemon of Khorne knew the value of striking swiftly.
In truth, Ka'Bandha simply wanted to beat Shalaxi into the ground and parade his might.
And perhaps, while abroad, to sniff out the Savior's trail.
He had only received the Blood God's summons and the news of Slaanesh's plots in Commorragh after setting out.
So, when responding, he simply tied the two together, to showcase his sharp sense of war.
It gave the impression of masterful grasp of the battlefield and invincible valor.
Without realizing it, the Supreme Bloodthirster had mastered the art of reverse-PUA leadership.
"Go then. I await your victory…"
The Blood God's shadow looked upon Ka'Bandha's warlike image and his furious host, and felt satisfaction.
Then He looked down at the assembled Bloodthirsters, and displeasure stirred.
Compared to Ka'Bandha, they were all lacking.
His rage burned hotter.
???
Anggrath and the other Bloodthirsters quailed under the god's disfavor.
How was it that Ka'Bandha, who had disobeyed the summons, escaped wrath—while they bore the brunt of it?!
...
Within the warp—
Ka'Bandha's brass chariot swerved, trailing fire, racing toward the Redeemer Satellite Zone.
The daemon horde wheeled with it, charging in its wake.
"Hm?"
Ka'Bandha frowned at the direction.
He looked to his trusted aide: "Baal, why are we straying farther from Commorragh?"
"My lord, did you not say you wanted the Scourge of Hell to suffer the worst humiliation?"
Baal wore a shrewd look. "To that end, we must also crush all her plans, leaving her no scrap of victory.
According to the intelligence I've gathered, her forces are about to strike a critical webway sector.
We cannot allow her to succeed."
"Good…"
Ka'Bandha nodded, his satisfaction deepening.
Baal always grasped his master's wisdom and offered fitting plans—
Leaving Ka'Bandha free to indulge in slaughter.
After all, slaying one foe or two was all the same—why not butcher every servant of the Prince of Pleasure here?
And in passing, take the souls of some Dark Eldar mongrels, to wound the Prince further.
...
Commorragh – Webway Core Biotech Facility
In the cavernous underground, countless slaves were completing the final construction work.
When their labor ended, they were herded into vast pits.
There, they collapsed into a writhing heap of flesh, tormented by parasitic maggots.
Their wails chilled the air.
These slaves were being squeezed for every drop of worth, their tortured souls harvested for Commorragh's use.
The machinery of the Haemonculi drained their essence, channeling it into twisted engines, and from there into a colossal growth-vat.
Within the fluid floated a towering frame, over four meters tall, armored in black.
The energy it radiated, the awe it commanded, was overwhelming.
Even the Haemonculi nearby, operating their devices, felt suffocated.
It was as though the figure within would awaken at any moment, stepping forth as a living god.
"This… is the Emperor?"
Asdrubael Vect caressed the vat's crystal-bone, gazing raptly at the figure inside.
A creation beyond all that the Aeldari could hope to achieve—
A vessel strong enough to contain unimaginable power.
Most importantly, its attunement to the warp was unparalleled.
Jealousy gnawed at him.
Why had such a perfect being arisen from the short-lived species of man—
So perfect that he himself must steal its power?
Vect's anticipation blazed.
The vessel was complete. Only more energy remained to be fed in.
Then he could wield it as the key to the Black Throne—
And ascend into a higher order of existence.
Already, under the influence of Asurmen's heir,
The citizens of Commorragh both feared him and nursed boundless fury.
Uprisings erupted in places, striking at his Cabal's holdings.
His dominion tottered. His people longed to kill him, and raise Asurmen's heir in his place.
Vect cared little.
For that fury, that terror, was fuel for his path of apotheosis through the Path of Dissolution.
So long as he rose to godhood and seized the Black Throne—
Not even She Who Thirsts could lay a hand upon him.
Nor would Asurmen's heir and those traitors escape.
In time, Commorragh would once more fall into his hands, under a rule even more cruel.
For Vect needed the torment of the Dark Eldar to feed his strength.
"It seems even the Chaos Gods fear my plan, and now scheme to seize this vessel for themselves…"
Vect frowned slightly at the fresh reports.
He stepped onto a high balcony and gazed up at the veil of the Webway.
Upon its surface, pink mists surged in, blotting out most of the expanse, with fire glimmering in the distance.
Signs of the oncoming daemonic incursion.
Vect was not worried. This too he had foreseen.
No one ever walked the path of apotheosis without challenge.
The Chaos Gods enthroned in the warp would not allow a new rival to rise, to steal away their faith and power.
"The situation has changed. My plan must accelerate…"
Vect flipped open his black ledger, scanning its diagrams and notes of ascension.
At last, he reached his conclusion:
"Commorragh's wrath is enough. What I lack is one final savor of fear."
The rise of Asurmen's heir had diminished the fear some Dark Eldar felt for him—
Especially those dwelling within the Redeemer Satellites.
To rekindle that terror within Commorragh would take time.
But the Redeemer Satellites offered the perfect means.
He would destroy them, so that the Dark Eldar within would die in terror.
"This grand fear of death—what instrument should apply it?"
Vect's long nail slid across parchment, weighing which method of destruction to unleash upon the Redeemer Satellites.
He could shatter Asurmen's heir's painstaking creation at will.
When he had ordered his Cabal's frontal assaults, he had also dispatched hidden forces.
After many attempts, they had finally smuggled in a relic of teleportation.
It could deliver a forbidden artifact inside. One chance only—
But that was enough.
The ledger listed a dozen forbidden weapons Vect had secured.
Most were relics of the War in Heaven—apocalyptic armaments.
For example:
Abyssal Bombs that birthed dark-matter suns, capable of cracking worlds.
Doomsday Engines that drained plasma energy to annihilate wide swathes.
Forges that warped space, collapsing entropy.
Even force-fields that could briefly invert time itself.
These were his greatest treasures, the bedrock of his power.
Vect gave his cold, signature laugh:
"In their fury, they seem to have forgotten why I rule this city of darkness."
The Webway was a network of Old Ones' passages—not an unbreakable fortress.
Present technology might not mar such ancient works, but weapons of the War in Heaven could shatter them with ease.
That was why so many ruins scarred the Webway.
Back then, destroying a nexus to sever routes was routine.
There were even times when Orks braved bombardments of apocalyptic weapons while hastily repairing the passages—
Grand construction scenes spanning galaxies.
Vect's forbidden relics could obliterate any sector of the Webway.
He had done so before—wiping out rivals and their dominions in a single stroke.
This terrifying deterrent was why the Dark Eldar trembled.
At his whim, he could place such weapons in key nodes—
And annihilate all of Commorragh.
Vect's throne was like the Emperor's Golden Throne upon Terra.
None dared corner him too far, lest mutual destruction follow.
This was why Eden had played his hand so cautiously against Vect, advancing step by step.
Otherwise, he and the Khan would long since have struck—
Teleporting kill-teams into Vect's palace and smiting him with backhanded blows.
By his prediction,
Vect had most likely been duped by Tzeentch, maddened with lust for godhood.
If he so craved the warp, then best to send him early.
Let him taste the "high table" of true play.
Eden could use the moment of Vect's immersion into the warp to make his final moves, eliminate the leftover threats,
And then seize the Emperor's clone-body, seizing Commorragh entire.
Risky, yes—
But the Omnissiah's analyses judged this the likeliest plan to succeed. Worth the gamble.
Yet Eden did not know—
A forbidden weapon was already being deployed against him.
One misstep, and he could face catastrophe.
...
On the shadowed balcony, Vect turned another page. Each item listed there could claim innumerable lives.
He studied them with relish.
Each choice could steer the Redeemer Satellites to a different fate.
No defense grid could withstand them; once fired, there was no undoing.
Only annihilation.
His gaze lingered on the Black Hole Projector. Tempting.
To summon a sudden singularity and devour the Satellites' matter—that was clean.
Even daemons manifested in the material realm would be dragged into its void.
But he set it aside.
Too swift. It would not yield enough terror.
Instead, he fixed upon another— The Space-Rend Engine.
It could tear rifts in the Webway's veil, opening wide portals for daemons.
The Dark Eldar of Commorragh would watch as the Redeemer Satellites perished beneath the torment of She Who Thirsts.
And their terror would be absolute.
Nothing frightened them more.
It would also draw hordes of daemons away, easing the strain on Commorragh.
Vect made his final choice. He gave the order.
The Haemonculi set about teleporting the forbidden Space-Rend Engine into place.
Soon after, Vect's projection appeared before the high lords of the Black Heart.
His words dripped with menace:
"Go. Tell all Commorragh: the Redeemer Satellites have defied the Supreme Overlord.
They shall suffer the cruelest torment, until they are destroyed—none shall survive."
...
Redeemer Satellites – Office of Asurmen's Heir
"Something is wrong…"
Eden sat at his desk, poring over every shred of gathered intelligence, face grave.
All the plans were advancing smoothly. The defenses of the Redeemer Satellites were nearly complete.
There should be no flaw.
Yet unease gnawed at him. Something was missing.
"What is it…?"
He drew a sharp breath, anxiety gnawing deeper.
This battle was critical—entangling multiple species, the Chaos Gods themselves, and all his years of schemes.
Even humanity's future.
He needed every chance at victory.
Then, a psychic message arrived.
From none other than Baal the Destroyer.
"Good news—my brother Ka is marching forth!"
Eden's eyes lit up, spirits rising.
At last he knew what had been lacking—
His half-brother, his truest kin:
The Supreme Bloodthirster, Ka'Bandha!
Every great war, every age of chaos—his brother had been at his side.
This time, without Ka'Bandha's presence, he had felt uneasy.
Ever since the Garden of Nurgle, when the Emperor's holy flames had scorched his backside, Ka'Bandha had lingered in Khorne's realm, refusing further campaigns.
Almost no word had been heard since.
But now—his Ka-brother had risen!
"Ka's timing is perfect. Now this is secure."
Eden was deeply moved.
From both mysticism and statistics, it was clear—
Whenever the Supreme Bloodthirster joined, victory's odds soared.
This time, at least a ninety-five percent chance.
His confidence surged.
BOOM—
Suddenly, a thunderous roar sounded outside.
(End of Chapter)
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