After Rakarth finished feeding, all that remained in his hand was a torn seer's garment. His grapevine-like pillar of heads began to change after devouring an Aeldari seer. The vertebrae bound by muscle lit up segment by segment with psychic light, creeping upward until it reached Rakarth's head.
Like a pine tree strung with colored lights, Rakarth was the brightest bulb at its peak. He opened his mouth, and his pain-twisted face showed that he was screaming soundlessly. The process lasted several hours. When it ended, Rakarth panted heavily, weak beyond measure, yet his eyes gleamed with fanaticism.
"These things are far better than those bland little snacks..." Rakarth remarked.
"After all, we went through a complete decline. Still, you shouldn't mock those seers' bones too much. Stripping away their flesh wasn't an easy task," Vect joked.
"Heh... I'll hold their work in due respect." Rakarth bowed, then continued, "But the prophecy is clearer now..."
Rakarth began shouting wildly in a frenzy of unstable psychic energy. He had seen scenes of the future and described them to Vect as best he could.
"I saw it! I saw a rift stretching across the universe open up! Commorragh is about to fall into famine! We made ample preparations, stockpiling food until storage district after storage district was filled!"
Vect had heard the first prophecy several times already. He knew it had become a joke. Never mind what that rift actually was—Commorragh was now ruins, utterly incapable of supporting life.
After Slaanesh's invasion and Commorragh's civil war, all of Commorragh had become war-torn ruins. The surviving kabals became the new rulers of the Dark City, but Vect, who had faked his death, would not allow these newcomers to usurp his position.
Vect's death had been marked with a funeral. At the ceremony, the