Blacklight Sacred Word Record

The saying goes that a lean camel is still bigger than a horse; even as a race reduced to the status of stray dogs, the Aeldari possessed a deep reservoir of assets. Before long, the worlds previously agreed upon were placed under the banner of the Blackwatch.

In the laboratories of the Blacklight, Yack, appointed as a diplomat by the Craftworld leader, stared at the frenzied tech-priests before him and voiced a profound question:

"Holy Father, must we truly do this?" Honestly, having served as a priest for so many years, he was considered a man of broad experience even among the Aeldari, but the scene unfolding before him truly defied his imagination.

A group of tech-priests stood before a giant figurine of Hogg, while a sound system blasted dynamic music—reportedly an old song sung by a band from ancient Terra. Accompanied by the rhythm of "YA`HA, MA~RU," several scantily clad tech-priests appeared before Yack, shaking their bodies in rhythmic dance. A strange atmosphere coalesced in that moment; it was a performance that could only be described as blasphemous, yet it felt oddly fitting for the occasion.

Mist shimmering with red electrical arcs permeated the air, and phantom black tentacles surged from the void to sway with the tech-priests. As the tech-priests caught sight of the tentacles, they shifted their rhythm, and the two entities gradually synchronized.

A wave of intense nausea flooded Yack's mind. In that instant, he felt his connection to the Warp weaken as terrifying hallucinations descended.

He saw a giant mouth covered in tentacles breathing in the void, capturing specks of starlight into the nothingness with every rise and fall. He felt as if he understood the truths of the world, and a flood of complex, incomprehensible information poured into his brain.

"I think I understand everything," Yack muttered, his eyes vacant as he swayed forward, wanting to join the ranks of the tech-priests. Beneath the flesh of his face, something seemed to be wriggling.

"Damn it. Used too much power." Hogg, quickly dispelling the phantom, yanked the near-delirious Yack out and slapped him awake with two sharp smacks.

"What happened? I remember... Ugh!! I, ugh..." Yack vomited all over the floor and collapsed, only to have a bucket of cold water dumped on him by the sensible Emilia.

"Holy Father, I think I almost died just now," Yack said, standing up and complaining to Hogg.

"Eh! Look, didn't you manage to shake off the gaze of Slaanesh during that time?" Hogg waved his hand dismissively. After all, he had fulfilled his promise to grant them peace; he wasn't responsible for what they turned into afterward.

"But my Lord, although we have escaped Slaanesh—sigh! I can actually say the name now... but we cannot withstand your great power."

Yack's words successfully infuriated the warriors watching from the sidelines.

"Damn Eldar, the Father has already granted you the peace you begged for. How dare you ask for more?" The surrounding Blackwatch were filled with righteous indignation.

"Sigh! Forget it! I'll help you to the end. Since you elves can't handle my power, here, I'll give you something good. Just follow this and you'll be perfectly fine." A book was handed to Yack by someone nearby.

Looking at the book, he saw a gilded cover with reinforced metal corners, inscribed with the bold characters: The Blacklight Scripture. "This is a doctrine," Yack, a veteran of the priesthood, thought to himself. He opened the cover to find content composed of various languages and illustrations.

"There was no light in this world, but His arrival brought a glimmer of radiance to the dark world.

His name is Hogg Menethil, revered as the Blacklight.

He is not a god, yet He is our Holy Father. He loves all living things, so He grants us peace of soul.

He cherishes courage, so He hopes His children will forge ahead;

He cherishes wisdom, so He hopes His children will seek knowledge; He loves life, so He hopes His children will grow strong;

He cherishes beauty, so He hopes His children will be optimistic and open-minded. He cannot be fathomed, for the great power of the Holy Father is beyond mortal comprehension, but the benevolent Holy Father loves every race selflessly.

He has granted us the right to believe in Him..."

Having read through the so-called Scripture, Yack was deeply moved. "Holy Father, now that we have the doctrine, what about the ritual of worship?"

"Ah! You need a ritual too? Just bow down casually. Believe a little bit, it doesn't cost anything anyway. What, do you like little boys too?"

Yack, fully immersed in his role, retorted: "Faith is not a matter to be taken lightly, Holy Father."

"Troublesome!" Hogg pressed a hand onto Yack's head and said, "Little Yack! Faith, to put it bluntly, is just a lie. But since our world is such a mess, well, see those tech-priests? Just do what they do. As long as you don't kill yourself, do whatever you want.

Oh, and the statues must be the specialty figurines from Alicia. I won't recognize any others; it's the bare minimum of respect for me." Hogg, always thinking of his hometown, added another export order for Alicia with a single sentence.

Clutching the Blacklight Scripture given by the Primarch, Yack returned to the Aeldari quarters on the Blacklight in high spirits, preparing to print tens of thousands of copies to distribute to the Craftworld citizens. From today on, he was all in on the Holy Father; those trash local gods were useless anyway.

Soon, the Craftworld Alaitoc leader, Cordelia, received Yack's report along with a copy of the Blacklight Scripture. He informed her of the effects of the faith and requested permission to establish the Blacklight Order within the Craftworld.

As the leader, she also received an invitation from the Blackwatch, hoping she would visit to discuss matters regarding the Aeldari joining the Blackwatch.

The most elite Aeldari warriors escorted Cordelia onto the Blacklight. As soon as they entered the bridge, a group of Space Marines in power armor jumped out from the corners. Terrified that this was an assassination attempt on their leader, the Aeldari warriors drew their shuriken catapults to aim at the opposition, with some using their bodies as shields to cover the leader's retreat.

The Blackwatch soldiers who had jumped out unfurled a banner that read: "Warmly Welcome Our Aeldari Allies to Visit." Bunches of confetti were tossed onto the heads of the tense elves.

Cordelia, also startled, waved her subordinates down. She walked with elegant steps, following the human acting as a greeter toward the bridge.

Along the way, Cordelia observed her surroundings. Although Yack had praised the Blackwatch tirelessly, the words of a religious zealot were often unreliable.

Passing the Blacklight's mess hall, Cordelia saw a group of the humans' primary combatants, the Space Marines, eating in casual clothes alongside smaller humans, with some even arguing over food portions. What a crude and barren race, not at all as elegant as the Aeldari.

The Blackwatch, who favored cleanliness, had kept every corridor spotless and had thoughtfully placed several potted plants for decoration. According to what she knew, human warships were usually filthy, and the humans aboard were like monkeys rolling in mud. The tidy Blacklight and its crew gave her a different impression, which won Cordelia's favor. "It seems the master of the Blackwatch also possesses a basic sense of elegance."

As the greeter stopped, the Aeldari reached the bridge and saw the master of the ship sitting on the throne—the son of Emperor, the Primarch of the Blackwatch, the so-called Holy Father.