17. Chapter 17: Quack, Primarch Lord, We Revere You!!

The moment the Blackwatch Legion entered this star system, the Aeldari caught wind of their presence, tailing them like stalkers to observe every move the Primarch made.

The Aeldari could not fathom why their gods would command their people to follow a human, even if he were a unique Primarch. The Elves, in their arrogance, looked down upon the young human race, habitually and haughtily referring to them as "monkeys."

They were not entirely wrong, though; when the Aeldari were already picking up the scraps of the galaxy to build their hegemony, humanity was likely still playing with stones and wondering how to spark a flame.

Naturally emotional, the Aeldari were not the idyllic creatures found in other fantasy works. Their once-mighty empire had been undone by their own hubris, which birthed Slaanesh into existence.

Their own racial pantheon was wiped out in one fell swoop; some died, some fled, and one was even captured by the Chaos God Nurgle to be used as a lab rat.

Worse still, the creatures of this universe possessed souls. As a race with innate psychic prowess, the Aeldari were doomed to have their souls devoured by Slaanesh the moment the entity let out its first cry.

Some survivors found no peace even in death, their souls dragged into the domain of Slaanesh to be toyed with in an eternal, agonizing torment.

A portion of the Elves retreated to what should have been the capital of the galaxy, now the most notorious dark city of Commorragh, sustaining their own soul-integrity through the torture of others.

The rest either devolved into feral outcasts or eked out a miserable existence aboard artificial craftworlds.

All in all, the Aeldari were essentially finished.

Yado was one of those struggling to survive, a member of the Alaitoc craftworld. With a dark future ahead for his race, he spent every waking moment searching for a way to escape their grim fate, and the revelations of his gods had finally brought him hope.

A holographic projection flickered on the auspex, showing a fleet of Aeldari warships appearing in the distance, heading straight for the Blacklight.

Unaware of the reason for the Aeldari's appearance, the Blackwatch began to encircle them. As the net tightened, the Aeldari ships remained motionless, as if dead. While Hogg was still puzzled, an Aeldari landing craft detached from the mothership, requesting permission to dock with the Blacklight.

"Father, these beanpoles must be plotting against you. Let me finish them off!" Lyla Lynn shouted.

"Wait! If they wanted to harm me, why wouldn't they just open fire? Let them in. If they make any suspicious moves, the fleet is to open fire and sink their ships."

The airlock hissed open. A squad of Aeldari warriors and a Banshee escorting Yack were surrounded by Blackwatch veterans, forced to disarm and strip down to simple tunics.

"Keep it steady, you fickle beanpoles." The Blackwatch were brutal in their treatment of the xenos, yet these long-eared creatures, who usually held their noses in the air, remained remarkably docile.

"This is surely a xenos trick! Father, let me kill them!" Rossmanderson, the loyal First Captain, brandished his glowing Necron Phase Sword, eager for battle.

Pushing aside the noisy figure before him, Hogg scolded, "How many times do I have to tell you? I told you to put a fresh coat of paint on those things, and you lot just won't move! Who am I? A Primarch! The Eleventh Legion of Imperium! Get out of my sight and go paint them, or don't show your faces to me again."

Sitting on his throne, Hogg adjusted his posture to appear taller and more imposing, looking down at the Elves. Honestly, they didn't look like much.

It wasn't that they were ugly, just not as breathtaking as expected. Yack was a male, an old man at that, and the accompanying female Elf had war paint on her face that made her look like a ghost, though her physique was lithe and possessed a sense of hidden strength.

"Speak, long-ears. Why have you come to see me?" Adhering to the principle that a guest from afar should be treated as such, Hogg gave them a chance to speak.

"Respected Primarch of the Eleventh Legion, scion of Emperor of Mankind, I have come because of a revelation. A revelation from the gods."

"Oh! Gods? How many gods do you Aeldari even have left? Is it that perverted little sprite, Slaanesh?"

"My lord, please, do not speak the name of She Who Thirsts. It will draw Her gaze!" Yack hurriedly interrupted Hogg, terrified that the gaze of the Aeldari's greatest enemy would be drawn here.

"Tch! What trash. Isn't it just Slaanesh? What's the matter, can't even mention it? You lunatics caused this mess, and now every race in the galaxy has to pay for it." Hogg, sitting on his throne, looked upon Yack—clearly the leader—with disdain for his fearful behavior.

"My lord, you do not understand. The life of an Aeldari is forever accompanied by the gaze of She Who Thirsts; we can only hide in the shadows, hoping for a moment of peace.

I have come to meet the Primarch for the sake of my race's destiny. To that end, I have brought a planet containing remnants of human technology, which I intend to offer to you, my lord!"

Having done his research and prepared his pitch, Yack had heard that one had to offer gifts to get Hogg to do favors. He had specifically chosen a planet bordering the Blackwatch Legion's territory, one currently occupied by his craftworld, to serve as a bribe.

Hearing that the opposition intended to gift him a planet—and a good one with lost technology at that—Hogg was no longer sleepy. He wiped the disdain from his face and put on a completely different expression.

"You there! Ginny, come over and pour our Blackwatch guests a glass of Nuka-Cola. Make sure it's the blue one." Ginny, who had been assigned to bridge duty, quickly grabbed the drinks from the fridge and poured them for both parties.

"About this planet... wait, what did your gods say?"

"My lord, the Laughing God of our race has told us to follow you, for only then can we find salvation." Yack looked at the towering Primarch opposite him with desperate eyes.

"What? Follow me? Has Cegorach been driven mad? I'm a human, and you're a bunch of Elves! I'm not like Guilliman, obsessed with Aeldari chicks. Are you out of your mind?"

"Primarch, we revere you! We wish to follow in your footsteps and contribute to the Great Crusade. You may not know this, but I actually believe in the Imperial Truth."

"..."

"..."

Such blasphemous words caused those nearby to draw their weapons, but the scene that followed made everyone question their sanity.

As if they had rehearsed it a thousand times, the long-eared group stripped off their clothes, using their pale bodies and incredible skill to form the symbol of the Imperium. Each Elf had the Imperial Aquila tattooed on their chest, and some even had the entire text of the Imperial Truth inked onto their skin.

Loyalty! Such absolute, insane loyalty! Everyone present was truly stunned.

"666," Hogg couldn't help but exclaim in praise.

"I can't believe you'd go this far. Tell me, what do you want? And put your clothes back on; we don't do that here." The Primarch took a long gulp of Nuka-Cola to steady his nerves and asked again.

"My lord, as it stands, when we Aeldari die, our souls are captured by the Warp and transported to the palace of She Who Thirsts for cruel torment.

But our birth rate is low, and death is not the end for us; we are usually placed into a Spirit Stone to continue serving our race.

Yet, being innately sensitive, we are easily snatched away by Her. If only you would agree to let us worship you..."

"Worship me? Oh! I get it. You want peace after death, right? Suit yourselves, it's none of my business."

"But, my lord! We have tested it; only with your consent can we achieve peace after death."

Yack, his old face twisted into a wrinkled mess, offered a fawning smile.