Half an hour earlier.
Deep within the Webway.
Yvraine stood before the altar, staring at the five Crone Swords that the Aspect Warriors had arranged in order according to an ancient ritual, and took a deep breath.
An indescribable emotion churned within her chest.
The goal she had always longed to achieve was now within sight.
The mission that had been carved into the depths of her soul from the moment she first heard the Death God's whisper now floated quietly before her, within reach.
Although earlier, the Eldar Seer who had delivered the Crone Sword they had found had vanished without explanation.
The matter left Yvraine somewhat uneasy, but she set that unease aside for now.
As long as the Death God's resurrection was completed, everything would be all right!
The Eldar would once again stand proudly among the stars and firmly claim a place for themselves in the coming Chaos.
Slaanesh—the Lady of Hunger who had devoured their souls without cease ever since the Eldar's fall—would be reduced to ashes before the Death God.
All dreams, all revival, all futures, were in this moment.
She only needed to complete the ritual.
"Calm down."
A voice came from the shadows at her side.
The Many-Faced stood there, seemingly fused with the darkness.
As a Dark Eldar assassin from Commorragh and a master of assassination of unparalleled skill, silence was his usual state.
Though he was standing close by, Yvraine had not realized he had been there until he spoke.
Yvraine drew a deep breath. She forcibly suppressed the heat surging through her chest and refocused her will.
By Eldar standards, she truly was still young.
"I know."
Her voice was steadier than before. "It's just too astonishing. Even in my most wonderful dreams, nothing like this had ever appeared."