"Your Majesty, Warmaster, we truly, sincerely come to return to the Empire."
"The Harlequins have been collecting information about the galaxy and lost technologies for the Empire all these years. They are all sitting in my Black Library, just waiting for Your Majesty and the Warmaster to come and inspect them."
"And these Craftworlds—there is so much more profound Wraithbone technology and psychic-based technology here. We can certainly add more glory to an already prosperous Empire!"
"I beg of you, Your Majesty, Warmaster. We, the lost abhumans of the Empire, really cannot wander anymore. We crave to return to the warm embrace of the Empire!"
"That damned Ynnead and those traitors in the Ynnari even dared to try and persuade us, the good citizens of the Empire, to surrender. They wanted to incite us against our absolute loyalty to the Empire and to His Majesty. It is a heinous crime and a treacherous ambition; we loyal citizens share an irreconcilable hatred with them!"
Cegorach, regardless of how the Emperor and Perturabo were reacting, fell to his knees on the ground, crying bitterly about the current hardships of the Aeldari and the relentless pressure of the God of Death.
That humble, base posture shocked Isha deeply and left both the Emperor and Perturabo momentarily stunned.
Wait a minute, you are the Great Harlequin Cegorach, the one who tricked the Outsider at the end of the War in Heaven—are you really going to throw away all your dignity like this?
However, Cegorach was a master of bending and stretching; he understood how to read the situation. Otherwise, he could not have survived the catastrophes of the Aeldari unscathed, dodging crisis after crisis.
"You say you are a branch of human abhumans, and you want to return to the Empire now?"
"Yes, yes, yes."
Cegorach nodded like a chick pecking at rice, his face wearing a clown's characteristic silly smile.
"Are you joking?"
Perturabo set down his massive gauntlet and stepped in front of Cegorach.
Even though Perturabo's massive mechanical body was still trapped within the Warp, that did not mean he lacked sufficient power.
The still-immensely powerful Perturabo looked down at Cegorach's frail frame, grabbed his head, and lifted him up.
Behind them, Isha reacted instinctively, wanting to fight back, but she was shattered by the Emperor's cold gaze. Furthermore, Cegorach signaled her not to act rashly.
"What qualifications do you have to negotiate with us? I can crack that little bit of Aeldari technology eventually, and I doubt your Black Library is much better."
"If it could really record so many things—let alone anything else—if you had even a shred of powerful technological knowledge, why would the Aeldari have fallen to this state?"
"As for 'psychic-specialized abhumans,' of course they exist, but they aren't 'space elves.' Do you have an Imperial census registration? How dare you casually call yourselves Imperial abhumans."
Perturabo's massive hand exerted tremendous pressure on Cegorach; the terrifying psychic power and physical might made him feel a sense of panic.
Ultimately, he had no solid ground to stand on this time. The current state of the Aeldari clearly showed they were desperate to forcibly attach themselves to humanity—especially since the Aeldari's reputation as troublemakers made the current Human Empire very displeased.
The Aeldari have always lacked responsible individuals. They would sacrifice other races to prevent a prophecy, though this was really just a death rattle.
Regardless of other things, even when the Farseers predicted these events and took action, they rarely showed any willingness to bear the responsibility.
They only cared about acting. If problems arose afterward, not only would the others suffer, but the Aeldari following them would also suffer, often leading to heavy casualties or total annihilation.
They would not admit it was their mistake, nor would they bear the blame, choosing only to blame the prophecies and the very races they had entrapped.
In fact, the Aeldari had predicted the fate of the Human Empire long ago; the Horus Heresy was their prophecy.
They had hoped to use this information to drag the entire Human Empire into a quagmire of civil war and weaken humanity's strength, but they miscalculated.
Because the moment they delivered the news, they ran into a Human Empire that had already undergone total evolution.
Even though they spread the message across the entire Empire, what greeted them was another Aeldari massacre, following the birth of Slaanesh.
The Luna Wolves and the Thousand Sons struck the hardest—one for the sake of reputation, the other out of a thirst for knowledge.
During that time, nearly all the Exodite worlds in the galaxy were slaughtered, and the Iron Warriors even pursued them directly into the Webway.
The darkness of that time caused even the Dark Aeldari to suffer without reason, turning their rage toward their own kin.
Not to mention the recent plundering of the Human Empire by those Craftworlds after they began worshipping the God of Death.
This was naked hatred, and the Empire had never liked xenos.
Cegorach had no confidence that he could succeed, but there was no other way. If the Aeldari continued to let those fools run amok, they would be wiped out sooner or later.
A Harlequin god and a Goddess of Life who had barely escaped Nurgle's Garden—how could they contend with a God of Death capable of killing Slaanesh?
Cegorach truly felt helpless against the current situation.
All of this was the fault of those two idiots, Asuryan and Khaine, for leaving the Aeldari crippled and leaving behind a mess.
And those pleasure-seeking nobles—Cegorach had given them warnings many times, but they had always gone in one ear and out the other.
As it turned out, once Slaanesh emerged, everyone was finished, and even Khaine, who was the most violent, was shattered into pieces.
Having finally managed to escape into the Webway to linger on, couldn't they just live well? If you really couldn't suppress it, there would be no problem with falling to become Drukhari; just stay alive. But these troublemakers refused to do that.
Just as Slaanesh subsided, Ynnead the God of Death was about to awaken. These fools actually believed in the God of Death and continued to court death by provoking the Human Empire.
Cegorach didn't want to talk about how much he had done for the Aeldari, nor did he want to express his hidden grievances. He silently gathered some Craftworlds that still listened to him, letting some escape the galaxy so that if something went wrong, at least there would be survivors.
The others followed him to surrender and were currently at a nearby Webway entrance, already heavily surrounded by the Imperial fleet.
Cegorach knew that if this failed today, the Aeldari would likely have no hope of survival in the future.
"Warmaster, we are very useful, truly. Look, because of Slaanesh's current seal, the restrictions on us walking in the galaxy have lessened significantly."
"And our individual strength is not bad either. We can conduct reconnaissance and assassinations, and our ability to perform decapitation strikes is not weak. Doesn't the Empire currently need some special forces?"
"Astartes are strong, but isn't that overkill for these tasks? The Solar Auxilia are, in the end, mortals. Even after augmentation, they are not as good as our psychic-specialized abhumans, are they?"
"We can also teach the current psychics within the Empire to master their powers. The Empire is still troubled by the issue of runaway psychic phenomena; we can help, Warmaster."
"And our birth rate has increased now. If worst comes to worst, the Empire can just throw us onto the front lines as cannon fodder, just like those Ogryns and gene-slaves. There is absolutely no problem with that."
Cegorach's attitude was very low, lowered to the point of being humble.
But was Perturabo someone so easily convinced? Especially with the Emperor, an extreme human supremacist, present.
At this moment, Isha was already locked on by psychic power. If a single breath of "wrong" energy was emitted today, what awaited them would be the burning flames of the Fifth Chaos God.
"The Empire does not need these things you speak of, nor does it care. The best solution for humanity is for you sprouts, who always backstab and love to be troublemakers, to all be wiped out. The Empire never negotiates with xenos."
The strength in Perturabo's hand increased, and Cegorach's skull was being constantly squeezed, causing his danger warnings to hit the absolute limit.
"We are not negotiating, we are surrendering, Warmaster. We are returning. Can the Empire not tolerate the return of a branch of human abhumans?"
"Even our skulls are human skulls."
Cegorach said, enduring the pain and discomfort.
"We are willing to offer everything we have, just like the psychic-specialized abhumans under your command."
"Whatever they can do, we can do as well—and do it better than them!"
"You?"
There was a hint of mockery and disdain in Perturabo's voice.
"Do you think you are qualified to compare yourselves to those Imperial abhumans who have been registered and have remained loyal all along?"
"Why can they, and we cannot?"
Perturabo released his grip on Cegorach, watching the clown collapse to the ground, breathing with difficulty.
"They discussed it with us from the very beginning. Their attitude was very sincere, and they proved their loyalty through their actions. More importantly, they love the Empire and they love humanity."
"We can talk, too! Your Majesty, Warmaster."
"We can be loyal, too! We can love the Empire! We can love humanity, too!"
Cegorach crawled on his hands and knees to Perturabo's feet, clutching that massive, thick leg tightly.
The increasingly humble attitude made Isha feel somewhat unable to bear it. Cegorach was actually very proud, always facing everything with a cynical attitude; even Asuryan, the Lord of the Gods, was helpless against him.
But now, for the sake of the Aeldari's survival, he had cast aside his pride and dignity, willing to risk death to come here.
He could have hidden in the Webway for a lifetime; even if the Aeldari were wiped out, he could still survive. But he did not do so.
The existence who had been silently carrying the banner for the Aeldari ever since the birth of Slaanesh had today set aside everything he was, humbly begging for a path to survival from the humans he had previously looked down upon.
"Why should I agree to you? Your strategic value to us now is negligible. Any random Space Marine chapter is stronger than a Craftworld of yours, and we are not lacking in psychic powerhouses either."
"You are outdated old things. You have even lost your homeworld and have long since lost the need to exist. It is fortuitous that you delivered yourselves to my doorstep today; it saves me the trouble of hunting you down one by one later."
Perturabo shook Cegorach off, and the frail body rolled away in a sorry state. Isha hurried to catch him.
Her eyes were filled with tears. The cruelty and arrogance of humanity far exceeded her imagination. This surrender would likely drag them all into ruin.
She had only just escaped from hell, and now she was walking toward death again.
But although Cegorach was in a sorry state, there was a trace of joy in his eyes. The Aeldari had a way to live now.
The fact that Perturabo didn't kill him on the spot was the best proof.
"You want to join the Empire? Fine. Prove your loyalty to us."
Perturabo's words brought joy to the faces of both Cegorach and Isha. As long as there was hope, anything could be discussed; they would accept even the most excessive conditions.
"The Drukhari have been harassing Imperial territory for a long time, but their petty antics have not reached a level that the Empire deems important. I want you to wipe out Commorragh as the condition for this surrender."
"Don't tell me you don't know the location of Commorragh, and don't tell me you can't beat those dark sprouts."
"If you don't have that ability, then you can run. I don't care where you go. Anyway, sooner or later, I will completely resolve you and root out you pests of the Webway."
Perturabo truly didn't care. The Aeldari were just a minor problem. The true difficulties for the current Human Empire were how to completely resolve Chaos and the reawakening Necrons.
Not to mention the Tyranids, who were wandering outside the galaxy.
This was no joke: five galaxies, five Necron factions, and the invasion of five Tyranid hive fleets.
If Perturabo didn't manage to raise the overall strength of the Empire by several orders of magnitude in the coming period, the Imperial territory that had been so hard-won would likely suffer again.
Don't look at how strong the Empire is now; the Necrons are not a bit worse.
Don't look at them as being crazy, neurotic, with half-crippled bodies and missing memory data; their technological strength is truly formidable. If they really went all-out, the current Empire would actually still be lacking.
Even less to mention that Chaos is watching from the sidelines. If the galaxy becomes a chaotic mess again, it would be even easier for Chaos to recover.
In the face of such a crisis, a small Aeldari faction really doesn't count for much. After all, it's not just the Necrons who have no future; the Aeldari now have no roots, and no matter what they do, in the grand scheme of things, they are impossible to rise again.
The homeworld is gone; you still want hope?
Perturabo certainly wanted to wipe out these troublemakers early, but having them kill each other with the Drukhari wasn't bad. Anyway, they were all going to die, so it's better to let them fight amongst themselves.
"How about it? Whether you agree or not is up to you."
Perturabo returned to his workbench. His research had reached a critical point; he had better finish it quickly.
Since sealing Chaos, although the sense of crisis remained heavy, Perturabo was indeed living the stable life he had previously desired.
Every day was spent either quietly doing research, or walking with his sister on Olympia and Terra to relax his body and mind.
It could be said that the current Perturabo, and the Emperor as well, carried an air of indolence about them.
They no longer had to worry about government affairs, they didn't need to manage the Legions, and they didn't need to worry about things like taxes or logistics.
It was enough to just focus on researching technology and continuously updating and iterating their tech. Everything was handled by the Primarchs and Old Man Malcador.
Guilliman's ability to cover for them is truly strong; it has left Perturabo with the leisure time to completely "slack off."