Alaitoc's Central District.
The great Asurmen's army had driven back the invading forces of Chaos. The smoke of war was thinning, but the air was still saturated with filth.
The children of Alaitoc were still drowning in the pain that corruption brought, letting out groans and wails from time to time.
"Our home…"
Some Aeldari of Alaitoc stared blankly at buildings that had only just been repaired, only to collapse again. Grief hollowed them out.
Not long ago, they'd been basking in the joy of rebuilding, believing the skein of fate had finally taken pity on them, that they might escape a destiny of suffering.
But with the Dark Prince's lackeys descending upon them, everything had been smashed to dust once more.
Even the air itself was choked with suffocating pollution.
The children of Alaitoc stood in their own homeland and yet felt fear and unease, as though another strike could come at any moment.
This place had become a nest of terror.
"You think… we can still be protected by the skein of fate?"
Fashimel clutched her wound, looking over the shattered ruins and the hunched, trembling silhouettes of her kin.
The Guardians beside her fell silent.
In the past, even if Alaitoc suffered the same kind of assault, they might not have reacted like this.
But after Asurmen brought them the hope of revival, only for Chaos to snuff it out again, the despair ran deeper, sharper.
More than that, the children of Alaitoc could sense it. Something worse was coming.
The Dark Prince was brewing a nightmare in the Warp.
Suddenly, a commotion rippled through the district.
It drew Fashimel and the others' attention. When they turned, they saw a figure both elegant and reassuring—
Raphael Asurmen. Of noble blood. The savior of the Aeldari.
He had driven out the invading evil.
On either side of the ruins, the children of Alaitoc watched him, and slowly, the unrest ebbed.
Eden moved forward through the wreckage, a hint of sorrow between his brows that only made him look more sanctified.
Little by little, the children of Alaitoc gathered, trailing behind him.
As if following him made them safe.
Before long, the crowd swelled larger and larger.
That was exactly the outcome Eden wanted: ignite Alaitoc's fear ahead of time, then step in as the savior and "offer" salvation.
Not only that—near him drifted psychic projection constructs from Redemption Paradise, ensuring the scene would spread across all of Alaitoc.
No matter the situation, he never forgot propaganda. Never forgot to harvest faith.
"The Aeldari really are built different…"
Eden glanced at the condition of the Aeldari among the ruins and realized he'd barely seen any corpses.
Sure, the Burning Legion's Chaos troops had mainly attacked structures, deliberately avoiding the densest concentrations of civilians.
But even so, the casualty rate was still far lower than he'd expected.
Among the Aeldari, even severed limbs, shattered organs, and ruptured viscera didn't necessarily mean death.
Their survivability was almost on par with Space Marines.
And these were ordinary Aeldari.
This ancient species, aside from their lower resistance to Slaanesh's Warp-taint, was practically perfect.
Of course, because their numbers were so few, even losses like these were catastrophic by their standards.
"My lord, the Guardians failed to protect Alaitoc's people. There are too many casualties in this area…"
Fashimel lowered her head in guilt as Asurmen approached.
She looked pitiable, as if blaming herself.
In truth, she didn't need to do this—but she still couldn't stop herself from confessing, or reporting.
This Guardian was already treating Asurmen as the anchor of their world, their ruler.
That was the point of Eden constantly forcing his presence into everything. With the seers trapped in the Dome, he'd been handed an opening.
"Guardian, that is why I have come. The pain of Alaitoc's children will be soothed."
Eden lifted a hand and gently stroked Fashimel's hair, a display of closeness and control.
He hadn't come to this ruined district merely to assess casualties.
He was here to display a miracle.
To truly lay the foundation of faith in Isha, the Goddess of Life.
Until now, that faith had only spread within Redemption Paradise. It was time for it to expand outward.
Craftworld Aeldari were purer than the Drukhari, and they possessed psychic potential—unlike the Drukhari, those Warp-dullards.
They were the ideal candidates for believers, able to organize a Life Cult quickly.
That was one reason Eden worked so hard to "stay visible." It wasn't only for the craftworld itself, but for the Aeldari within it—his future faithful.
He'd tried using the Drukhari to preach before, but the results were poor.
Wherever they went, other kin treated them like thieves, watching them like hawks.
Their reputation was simply too foul.
But these spiritually cleaner Aeldari of Alaitoc could spread Isha's faith more effectively to other regions—
To other craftworlds, or to the Exodites' maiden worlds.
In an era where the Aeldari struggled beneath Slaanesh's shadow, Alaitoc's preaching would land even better.
And that meant Eden could use faith to control more Aeldari by proxy.
Behind Eden, a dark sea of Alaitoc's people gathered.
They didn't know where the great Asurmen was going, yet they followed all the same.
Life tended to drift toward the majority.
Soon, the children of Alaitoc realized where he was leading them.
They saw a towering statue of the Goddess of Life, dozens of meters tall.
It was one of the few structures in the district that hadn't been destroyed.
A cluster of Aeldari had sheltered here and escaped the assault.
This was, unmistakably, a place under protection.
More strangely still—once the children of Alaitoc stepped into the area around Isha's statue, the corrupt hallucinations tormenting them eased.
Even their pain diminished.
They couldn't help but become devout.
"The skein of fate hasn't abandoned us," Fashimel murmured.
The Guardians stood at the front of the crowd, waiting for what the great Asurmen would do.
Hummm—
Eden guided his psychic power and slowly rose into the air, hovering before the goddess's chest, as though cradled in the statue's hands.
Then an image formed in the psychic air: the void tearing open, the filth of Chaos drowning one brilliant civilization-world after another.
It was the fall of the ancient Aeldari empire—recorded in countless Aeldari texts, preserved by those who fled and survived.
The sight stirred a grief the children of Alaitoc couldn't name.
Eden looked down upon them, while two psychic projection constructs hovered before him.
The live recording would be broadcast to every area that housed a statue of the Goddess of Life, ensuring as many Aeldari as possible could see him.
His voice carried a tremor of psychic resonance, like a saga spoken from a forgotten age.
"Chaos destroyed our home. My noble kin were reduced to refugees…"
As the vision of ruin played and Asurmen spoke, every Aeldari who witnessed it began to weep, sharing the grief as though it were their own.
In their genes, the longing for past glory still remained.
Psychic light spilled from Eden's eyes. The long braid behind his head—styled in the Aeldari fashion—floated gently beneath the psychic haze.
His tone grew severe.
"But… Chaos cannot break our will, because the blessing of the sacred Goddess of Life has never truly left us.
"She will link our minds, and in our despair, we will stand as one!"
Bzzzt—
Borrowing the authority of life emanating from the statue, Eden expanded his psychic power over the Aeldari gathered here, connecting their inner worlds.
Before, he'd only experimented with individual connections.
This time, it was a mass connection—thousands upon thousands of Aeldari.
And even more astonishing—
It worked.
That was the Aeldari's terror and greatness: they were a psychic species by nature, with immense potential hidden in their blood.
Their present state—this level of strength—was what remained after repeated collapses across the ages.
"By the skein of fate… I can feel everyone. The strength in my body is surging."
Fashimel experienced something she'd never known before.
She could clearly sense the existence of her kin all around her, and all of them were bound tightly together through Asurmen as the central node.
Even more startling, she realized her wounds were healing.
Not from an external blessing, but from her own body repairing itself.
When the children of Alaitoc realized the same, their worship of Asurmen deepened into awe.
They believed he had granted them new strength in the name of the Goddess of Life.
In truth, it was a capability the Aeldari already possessed.
Deep in their core biology lay a dormant mechanism for accelerated healing.
Iyanden's great seer, Iyanna Arienal, wielded a similar power—using psychic force to ignite the accelerated healing process hidden within every Aeldari's core.
That power was called the Tress of Isha.
Eden was simply recreating the same phenomenon, triggering Alaitoc's people to awaken what already slept within them.
He'd known the process should exist, but seeing it unfold still shocked him.
"Damn… the Aeldari stat block is completely broken."
Visibly, their wounds were closing—crushed bones knitting, ravaged organs sealing and restoring themselves.
Absurd.
Worse still, with their minds linked, a vast psychic force began to gather—then stream toward Eden.
It was an enormous mass of psychic energy, the kind that made even him wary.
There were few ways to amass so much Warp-power in realspace.
"I was only trying to sell them a miracle, and I think I just did something truly insane."
Eden sucked in a breath.
He recalled ancient records claiming that, in their golden age, the Aeldari species had been linked by a single psychic field.
No matter the distance, they could reach one another.
But the Fall—Slaanesh's birth and the Aeldari's collapse—had stripped them of that mass-linking ability, shattering them in body and mind.
A Necron lord, awakened from long slumber, had even remarked that compared to the Aeldari of the War in Heaven, even Mephiston—the Blood Angels' Chief Librarian—was merely "so-so."
And Mephiston was among humanity's greatest psykers.
"Good thing I've seized the Goddess of Life and can control the Aeldari by proxy, eliminating the threat.
"Otherwise, if the Aeldari ever rise again, wouldn't humanity be staring down yet another terrifying rival?"
Eden felt a flicker of relief.
The Aeldari were in a brutal state now—but he didn't doubt they could flip the table someday.
Just like the Necrons: with the return of a certain being, they surged back into prominence, and now Necrons across the galaxy were gradually organizing under the Silent King's return.
The Aeldari—nearly as ancient—might have their own moment.
"For example… if the Aeldari death god awakens and shelters them, relinking their psychic field…
"Wouldn't they beat humanity into the dirt in psychic warfare?"
The moment that possibility formed, Eden remembered hearing that Yvraine's death-god faction possessed methods of spiritual linkage.
If the Aeldari's numbers ever dwindled to a certain threshold—enough souls to feed the death god Ynnead into true birth—then it would be a desperate comeback for the ages.
A being said to be capable of beating Slaanesh senseless.
A being that could manifest in realspace in some fashion.
And perhaps not even be suppressed by the Emperor himself.
Dangerous beyond measure.
At that point, an elite Aeldari species—plus an awakened god of death—would make humanity's already grim circumstances even worse.
Every species in the galaxy and the Warp had some monstrous ace up its sleeve.
One after another, all obscene.
Compared to them, humanity really was fragile.
The one advantage humanity held was reproduction rate and sheer population.
If you counted total numbers, even the Tyranids were the little brother. The hive fleets couldn't "eat through" humanity fast enough.
And with those vast numbers, humanity could gamble—spawning powerful individuals by chance, and even nurturing a Warp-entity like the Emperor himself.
Seen that way, humanity wasn't behind.
Humanity had its own "cheat code."
Eden considered it carefully.
"No matter what, I've stumbled into something valuable—using the Goddess of Life to compete with the death god for faith and souls, and blocking its awakening."
With that thought, he finally let out a slow breath.
Which meant Isha's faith had to be pushed through the Aeldari—thoroughly.
Otherwise, once the Ynnari expanded further and absorbed more Aeldari, Eden's window would close.
Compared to a death god, Isha was the gentler option.
At worst she cried a few pearls of tears.
By nature of her authority, she wasn't truly destructive.
And rival faiths could even ignite Aeldari civil conflict.
Perfect.
Having made his decision, Eden continued his performance, rousing the Alaitoc Aeldari as they rose into joy.
"Feel it. Under the blessing of the Goddess of Life, we will unite every one of our scattered kin across the galaxy.
"We will rebuild our home, and reclaim our inheritance!"
As he spoke, psychic ripples rolled outward, letting even more Aeldari feel the presence of Isha—and the link between minds.
In that moment, the children of Alaitoc gazed up at the statue of the Goddess of Life with absolute devotion.
The blessing they had craved for countless years, and the chance to revive…
It had come.
Eden felt their emotions and knew he was set.
In the next instant, he severed the connection.
His figure vanished from the area, leaving only the still-fevered Aeldari, dazed in their afterglow.
He had no choice.
Maintaining a link that long, without an Infinity Circuit to support him, was starting to strain him.
But regardless—once those projections spread, the Goddess of Life's status on Craftworld Alaitoc was now unshakable.
After that, Eden's missionary cadre rapidly absorbed huge numbers of believers and high-ranking Guardians.
With Isha at its core, a brand-new Aeldari sect was formed—
The Cult of Life.
It spread through Alaitoc at breakneck speed.
Not only that, Eden also released a wave of rumors.
The rumors claimed that the great Asurmen's goodwill had been tainted—that the Seer Council had rejected him.
Because of this, the Infinity Circuit could not be strengthened, and the Goddess of Life could not fully shelter Alaitoc.
This world was on the brink.
The great Asurmen did not wish for his warriors to make even more sacrifices.
Nor could he endure the Seer Council's humiliation.
He would leave.
In districts across the craftworld, the "Commorragh cousins" began packing equipment, showing signs of withdrawal.
The news triggered even greater panic among Alaitoc's Aeldari.
More and more began to resent and reject the Seer Council.
They had tasted the Goddess of Life's protection—and they refused to lose her.
Especially with the coming darkness so close.
They begged Asurmen to stay.
Fashimel and the other Guardians were the first to join the Cult of Life. Aggrieved on Asurmen's behalf, they collectively pleaded for him to continue guiding them.
Alaitoc needed the Goddess of Life and Asurmen's protection.
"Master, more and more of Alaitoc's kin are gathering. They're begging you to remain.
"And… anger is building."
Ilyss reported the situation, a trace of delight in her eyes.
Eden looked down from the spire at the vast black mass below—an ocean of Aeldari faces, eyes filled with desperate pleading.
Within that pleading was something else.
Fury at the Seer Council.
Eden had experience with this sort of movement-building. The Seer Council was surely in chaos by now.
"The Seer Council will kneel soon enough, if they don't want to be torn apart."
Eden said it plainly.
Of course he wasn't leaving. He was going to squat here and make it permanent.
But he couldn't be the one to propose it.
It had to be Alaitoc's people—and the Seer Council—begging him to stay.
They had to plead for him.
Not him forcing rule upon them.
That slashed the odds of future resistance.
Legitimacy mattered.
You had to solve the biggest hidden risks at the start of rule, before you planted landmines under your own feet.
The high seers could feel the craftworld's emotions even more keenly. They would submit—especially after the Goddess of Life displayed a miracle.
No one wanted to lose a god's protection in a world this dangerous.
More than that, Eden had shown them the hope of revival.
Hummm—
A soft psychic touch reached him.
A sanctified High Farseer—Elarai—was contacting him.
Her psychic signal carried urgency.
On behalf of the Seer Council, she begged him to stay, and she would allow him to link with her mind—to bring the Goddess of Life into the Infinity Circuit.
"Heh. So the Seer Council's arrogant little birds have finally folded."
A cold smile tugged at Eden's mouth.
But he didn't accept immediately.
He refused the request—for now. This was Alaitoc begging him.
Of course, he didn't refuse outright. He left an opening, letting her feel he was "considering."
The ritual of refusing twice before agreeing still mattered.
Otherwise it would look like he was desperate.
Where was the grandeur in that?
Sure enough, before long, Elarai sent another plea.
From the emotional tremor in the psychic message, she was on the verge of tears.
Eden understood why.
With his agents stirring the crowd, the masses were already surging toward the Dome.
If the Seer Council didn't stop it in time, civil strife and schism would be inevitable—and the Infinity Circuit might even be damaged.
With Slaanesh's threat looming, then internal chaos on top of it, even Alaitoc would collapse.
A perfect overt play.
Finally, when Elarai sent a third psychic plea, Eden agreed.
"Wash up and wait for me."
After agreeing, Eden moved quickly to quell the unrest himself.
Even he worried about pushing things too far.
Then, pleased as could be, Eden headed to the sanctified High Farseer's dwelling, ready to claim his most exquisite prize.
He was going to seize control of the Infinity Circuit.
…
Within the wraithbone residence.
Elarai was restless, terrified, nerves stretched to the breaking point.
She knew Asurmen was approaching.
Her mind would be opened to him.
That meant surrendering everything.
But for Alaitoc's sake, she had to do it.
"High Farseer, come here. I'm on a schedule."
Eden strode into the residence with zero ceremony. When he saw the sanctified High Farseer, his eyes lit up.
She was almost certainly one of the most beautiful female lifeforms he'd ever seen.
She carried a sanctity that felt untouchable.
At that moment, Elarai wore a translucent veil. Tear tracks glistened on her face, and fear ran deep.
When she saw Eden, her body instinctively recoiled, as though afraid of something.
No one had ever been this close to her.
But when she sensed Eden's displeasure, she stopped herself.
As if resigning herself.
"Damn. She's so pure it makes me look like some kind of palace-raiding warlord… not quite Cao Cao… more like Dong Zhuo marching into the imperial harem…"
Eden watched her trembling, pitiful expression and couldn't help thinking of those old stories.
But he didn't hesitate.
He took her soft hand and pulled her toward him.
Strictly speaking, their psychic link didn't require such a gesture.
That was pure instinct.
Eden felt a flicker of embarrassment.
"Sorry. Habit."
Eden's bold, irreverent closeness left Elarai stunned. She almost resisted on reflex—
Then she remembered what she'd chosen.
Her strength ebbed.
Eden didn't stop.
And in the end, the ritual they both understood was inevitable.
If there were no reproductive barriers between their species, he would have wanted children with a High Farseer like her—because blood was an even stronger chain than faith.
As Elarai shut her eyes, bracing herself, Eden finally linked into her inner world.
A passage to the Infinity Circuit opened.
His Hope Sun and the Goddess of Life reached into Alaitoc's Infinity Circuit.
But the moment Eden stepped into that pure-white realm, he felt a terrifying aura of slaughter—distinctly Aeldari.
Slowly, he raised his head.
A psychic body floated in midair.
That was…
A shard-avatar of Ynnead, the Aeldari God of the Dead.
(End of Chapter)
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