Commorragh

Deep within the Webway Cosmos, in Commorragh, eternally shrouded in crimson twilight, lies the supreme capital city upon which the Dark Eldar depend for survival.

This colossal metropolis, known as the City of Darkness, lies nestled between the Warp and the Realspace.

There was no alternation of day and night, no changing of the seasons; only the stolen stars emitted a dark red light.

The light perpetually enveloped countless spires piercing the void of the Webway, cold and menacing.

These towers, forged from Wraithbone and dark alloy, are stacked layer upon layer, spiraling upwards.

It extends infinitely into the depths of the Webway, connected to each other by delicate yet sturdy Wraithbone arch bridges.

Dark Eldar warriors clad in tight-fitting armor move swiftly across the bridge year-round.

The screams of slaves, the maniacal laughter of torturers, and the clatter of instruments of torture echoed in the air.

These sounds became the unchanging background noise of this dark city.

The Commorragh Duel Arena is the bloodiest heart of this dark city.

It is located in the heart of the territory of the Kabal of the Black Heart, enduring millennia of battles and bloodshed.

The massive arena is paved with dark steel that Psionic Energy shocks and brute force.

The ground is covered with slash marks and bloodstains left over thousands of years, deeply etched into the metal.

Every mark holds a memory of brutal battle, one that has never been erased.

The stands are built against the mountain, extending upwards in layers, and can accommodate tens of thousands of Dark Eldar spectators.

Grotesque bone carvings stand along the edge of the stands, all cast from the bones of the defeated and the spines of slaves.

This highlights the Dark Eldar's cold, survival-of-the-fittest law of violence.

At this moment, a life-or-death duel has just ended in the arena, and the air is thick with the stench of blood.

The victors trample over the corpses of the defeated, basking in the frenzied cheers and screams from the stands.

In the secluded boxes at the highest point of the stands, a completely different, oppressive atmosphere was quietly spreading.

Vect, the supreme ruler of the Dark Eldar and leader of the Kabal of the Black Heart, sat enthroned on his throne.

The throne was crafted from countless soul crystals, radiating a cold and eerie glow.

He was tall and slender, with a handsome face but a sinister air about him.

His scarlet eyes churned with a thirst for pain and soul, like an abyss.

As the king who ruled the Commorragh for tens of thousands of years, his perception far surpassed that of all his people.

They possess an almost instinctive sensitivity to fluctuations in cosmic power and the signs of their race's survival.

Just now, as he closed his eyes to rest, a strong tremor suddenly exploded in his mind.

That was a warning of a potential crisis for the group, an instinctive fear of destruction deep in its blood.

A terrifying C'tan, long dormant, has quietly awakened on the distant shores of the Milky Way.

The sheer power of that force was so overwhelming that even across the endless galaxy and the complex Webway, it still made his heart tremble.

But this thrill lasted only a few breaths before it was extinguished like a candle flickering in the wind.

It was as if it had never existed, leaving no trace, eerily clean.

Vect suddenly opened his eyes, a look of disbelief and shock flashing in his crimson pupils.

He could clearly sense that the terrifying C'tan that had just revived had not simply fallen silent on its own.

Instead, it was forcefully defeated and suppressed by a more domineering and tyrannical force.

It vanished completely without a trace, without even causing a ripple of resistance.

"They... were defeated?" Vect murmured, his voice trembling almost imperceptibly.

His fingertips clenched unconsciously, and the soul crystal on the armrest instantly cracked, revealing fine lines.

He knew all too well the power behind that resurrected C'tan; it was a formidable force capable of shaking the very fabric of the Milky Way.

Even if it's just a wisp of a resurrected soul, it's not something an ordinary force can easily contend with.

Even if he led the entire Dark Eldar in an attack, he would have to pay a heavy price to suppress such a being.

But now, this force has been defeated in an instant, without even the slightest chance to struggle.

Such strength far exceeded the Dark Eldar's complete understanding of the current strength of their race.

After a long silence, Vect let out a heavy sigh, his voice filled with shock and solemnity.

"The Imperium of Man... when did it become so powerful?"

Once upon a time, in the eyes of the Dark Eldar, humanity was nothing more than a weak race of slaves.

They are the mobile nourishment they wantonly plunder, capture, and extract from souls.

Although the Imperium of Man has a vast territory, it is plagued by internal strife and uneven military strength.

They are simply no match for the Eldar, who possess ancient lineages and control over the Webway and Psionic Energy.

But now, in just a few thousand years, the Imperium of Man is able to easily suppress such a terrifying existence.

This leap in combat power made the supreme ruler who held sway over the Commorragh feel threatened like never before.

He stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window of the private room, and looked down at the dark city bathed in crimson twilight.

He spoke in a low voice, slowly asking the question to his trusted confidant who stood bowing beside him.

"The rise of the Imperium of Man has already threatened the survival of our race. Should we intervene in advance?"

"Curb their expansion and nip this crisis in the bud."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority that enveloped the entire private room.

The surrounding air seemed to freeze under this oppressive force, making it hard to breathe.

The trusted confidant lowered his head, not daring to be negligent in the slightest, and immediately stepped forward to respond respectfully.

"Your Majesty, the Seer Council have long since detected the unusual fluctuations within the Imperium of Man."

"At this moment, an ancient prophecy array is being activated in the temple to predict the future of our race and humanity."

"The results should be forthcoming soon, Your Majesty. Please wait patiently."

Vect nodded, his crimson eyes gazing towards the star system where the Imperium of Man was located.

The unease in my heart grew stronger, piling up like dark clouds.

He could vaguely sense that a catastrophe concerning the survival of the Eldar was quietly approaching.

This catastrophe was a deadly crisis that the Dark Eldar had never experienced in their entire existence.

Unlike the dark, decadent, bloody, and violent Commorragh, the Craftworlds of Ulthwé a tranquil, star-studded river.

Like a floating, sacred structure, pure and solemn, isolated from the world.

This Craftworld, stretching for thousands of kilometers, was the last refuge for the Aeldari after the fall of the Ancient Eldar.

The entire Craftworld was forged from living Wraithbone and is a complete ecosystem in itself.