"Aieeeeeee—!!"
The Daemonettes of Slaanesh, their eyes flickering with the frenzied fires of lust, possessed lithe, willow-thin statures similar to the Verminherders. Yet, their skin was slick with a sickening smoothness, and their limbs terminated in barbed pincers and jagged bone-spurs. Screaming in a cacophony of excessive agony and ecstasy, the Daemonettes sprinted forward, their legs moving in a blur as they charged the opposing ranks of the Verminherders.
Facing them were Verminherders forged from the faith and souls of Skaven hailing from Clan Verminus, Clan Rictus, and Clan Mors. These sturdier rat-matriarchs were clad in suits of dark red, rust-streaked Warp-Powered Plate. Clutching Warp-Glaives, their eyes burned with a crimson, feral malevolence as they glared at the oncoming Slaaneshi host.
"Set-raise your blades! Hack-slash them! Carve the daemon-things!" a Warbringer Verminlord shrieked, its voice a piercing gale. Brandishing a massive Warp-Glaive that matched its own towering height, the Greater Daemon bellowed the command.
The Mors Verminherders tightened their formation, locking shields and leveling their Warp-Glaives in a bristling hedge of green-black steel, a dense forest of death.
Behind them, the Verminherders of Clan Skryre lurked. These rat-maids had been so extensively modified by machinery that barely half of their original biology remained. Those carrying Poisoned Wind Mortars had integrated the weapon systems into their very torsos; without the need for loaders, the rhythmic churning of muscle and piston—thump-thump-thump—unleashed a torrential rain of toxic glass spheres.
The Poisoned Wind globes shattered amidst the Slaaneshi throng, instantly corroding their forms. Their alabaster skin blistered and rotted in heartbeats, their essence unmade and banished back into the tides of the Warp. Amidst a symphony of wet splatters and vanishing screams, the Daemonettes were exiled by the hundreds.
"Hmph, fools, slaughter those tasteless mechanical mongrels!" hissed several Keepers of Secrets.
Having clashed with the children of the Horned Rat many times, the Greater Daemons of Slaanesh knew that a frontal assault against Skaven firepower was an exercise in idiocy. At their signal, a tide of Seekers, mounted upon lithe, ophidian steeds, and Hellflayer Chariots surged from the flanks.
Their speed was blinding. In a blur of pastel colors and musk, they circumvented the front lines and plunged into the Skryre ranks. The chariots' whirling, scythed wheels ground the rat-daemons into a slurry of metal and meat, their momentum unchecked.
"There! Go-kill!" a Verminlord roared, snapping a barbed whip as it led the monstrosities of Clan Moulder into the fray.
These were the manifested souls of Rat Ogres and other stitched abominations. These wretched creatures, exploited unto death by Moulder in the mortal realms, found no peace in the Realm of Ruin, only further reshaping and servitude. With Moulder Verminherders perched upon their hunched backs, wielding Things-Catchers and stinging whips, the Rat Ogres charged like simian knights, colliding head-on with the Slaaneshi cavalry in a thunderous impact of muscle and chitin.
The Daemonettes finally crashed into the Mors line. They leaped high, vaulting over the spear-wall to descend into the heart of the formation. Their pincers snipped and tore with manic abandon, utterly indifferent to the wounds they sustained. Meanwhile, the Keepers of Secrets wove through the carnage, engaging the Verminlords in a titanic duel of gods-spawn.
Shalaxi Helbane, the Monarch of the Hunt and slayer of Greater Daemons, who had once driven the greatest heroes of the Aeldari to the brink of despair, found no easy prey in Skreech Verminking. Rather than claiming a trophy, the Spear of Slaanesh was forced into a desperate retreat. Shalaxi's spear spun in elegant, lethal arcs, but Skreech's movements were no less fluid. The Rat-King's twin blades left trails of baleful green light in the air.
Shalaxi struggled to parry the onslaught. Skreech's arsenal was too vast; between strikes, the Rat-King would spew caustic bile or sprout grotesque, shifting limbs to strike from impossible angles. Shalaxi was a specialist designed to duel Bloodthirsters, trapping an axe with pincers before driving a spear through a heart, but such tactics were useless against the shifting, verminous horror of Skreech.
Elsewhere, the duel between N'Kari and Sneek was a blur of supernatural speed. Sneek moved like a living shadow, vanishing into the warp-mists only to reappear and deliver a soul-severing strike. For the first time, N'Kari felt their own reflexed outmatched. Within moments, the Keeper of Secrets had lost a hand and was riddled with weeping gashes.
"It seems your playthings cannot endure, Slaanesh," the Great Horned Rat laughed, a sound like grinding stone and chattering teeth. He swung a massive fist, raining blows upon the Dark Prince.
Slaanesh's silver blade flickered, parrying the Horned Rat's claws in a shower of metaphysical sparks. The Prince of Excess was deeply vexed that His "exquisite" servants were being humiliated before this upstart deity. More galling still was the fact that Isha, the prize He had coveted for eons, remained untouched and protected amidst the vermin.
"Oh, come now, beloved..." Slaanesh murmured, His voice a caress that could shatter sanity. His form shifted, becoming a visage more radiant than Isha herself. "Hand her over to me. Join our revelry. Wouldn't you like to know what true pleasure feels like?"
Slaanesh had no desire for a war of attrition with the Horned Rat; He sought only the indulgence of the spoil. But the Great Horned Rat was immune to such charms.
"Heh... she is Mine. No one steals what belongs to the Horned Rat. No man! No God!" The Horned Rat let out a terrifying shriek. His divine power erupted, drawing the raw, chaos of the Warp into His grasp.
Wielding the authority of Formless Distortion, He condensed the chaotic winds into a spear-like bolt of pure entropy and hurled it at Slaanesh. This horrific strike was so potent it momentarily dimmed the light of the Astronomican across the Immaterium. In the distance, the breaches in the Webway groaned as torrential gales of Chaos poured through the cracks.
Hidden within a hidden Maiden World, Yvraine and her Ynnari host were rocked by the psychic shockwave. Their vessel tossed like a rowboat in a tsunami. Only through the combined efforts of Eldrad Ulthran and a circle of Farseers did they manage to stabilize.
"Careful!" Lelith Hesperax, the Queen of Knives, caught Yvraine as she stumbled, her tone characteristically sharp yet protective.
"My thanks," Yvraine nodded, regaining her footing. She turned to Eldrad, her eyes wide. "What is happening?"
The High Farseer shook his head, his expression a harrowing mask of terror and rekindled hope, a look Yvraine had never seen on the ancient seer's face.
"Gods are at war in the Aethyr... our Eternal Enemy clashes with another Ruinous Power. This is a tempest beyond our sight," Eldrad whispered, cold sweat beading on his brow. He had tried to peer into the disturbance, only to be struck by a backlash of such primal dread that he had instantly severed his psychic connection.
The "Eternal Enemy" could only be Slaanesh. As for the other Power, Yvraine did not know its name, but she felt the resonance of the new dark god's recent ascension.
"So soon? Then... Isha..." Yvraine's expression began to brighten with a desperate joy.
"It draws near... I feel it. It is not a prophecy, but a certainty," Eldrad said, a pale smile touching his lips.
…
Back in the void, Slaanesh parried the Horned Rat's devastating strike with a desperate flourish of His blade. Snarling in distaste, the Dark Prince spat, "Fine. I shall remember this debt... but remember this, beloved, so long as you harbor Isha, you shall never escape the eyes of Slaanesh."
Seeing Slaanesh withdraw, the Great Horned Rat did not press the issue. He knew better than to corner a god of excess. He let out a rasping chuckle. "That is what makes it fun, She Who Thirsts."
Slaanesh cast one final, lingering look at Isha before letting out a wail of frustrated fury. The Dark Prince turned and vanished into the kaleidoscopic depths of the Warp. While Shalaxi Helbane and N'Kari were permitted to retreat, the rest of the Slaaneshi host was abandoned on the battlefield as punishment for their failure.
Devoid of their master's presence, the daemons' zeal evaporated instantly.
"Leaving me some pests to clear up, I see," the Horned Rat muttered dismissively. With a single, casual sweep of His paw, He crushed the remaining billions of Slaaneshi daemons into nothingness, their essences scattered like dust in the wind.
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