I Know I Will Die

Eldar Titans started a duel with the giant creature Tyranids on the edge of Craftworlds.

Each salvo of Titans's Psionic Energy cannon can clear out a large swarm of insects.

But Tyranids's tyrants, executioners, and insect nest guards came one after another like a tide.

A Titans was besieged by three executioners at the same time. Its shield was shattered under the executioner's claws, and its body was torn apart.

Its operator detonated the Psionic Energy core at the last moment and died together with the three executioners.

Elaradron stood on the steps of the temple, looking at the sea of flowers being swallowed by the swarm of insects.

The silver-white rose was crushed under Tyranids's feet, and its petals turned into powder in the Psionic Energy storm.

Those flowers that once Whisper under the moonlight can only wither silently now.

He didn't move because he was waiting.

Waiting for the existence that comes out from the depths of the insect swarm.

Swarm Prince emerged from the dark green mold.

Its pace is neither hasty nor slow.

Every step covers an extremely long distance, from the rear of the insect swarm to the front line of Craftworlds, from the dark green mold to the silver-white sea of flowers.

Behind it, twenty creations followed silently like its shadow.

The shapes of those creations are different, some hold bone blades in their hands, some have sharp claws on their arms, and some have wings on their backs.

Their blue-white eye slits swept across the battlefield, sweeping over those Eldar warriors who were falling, and those Wraith Constructs who were burning.

It's like looking at a building that's about to be demolished.

Swarm Prince stopped in front of Elaradron.

It is 4.5 meters tall, twice as tall as the tallest warrior Eldar.

Dark green energy lines flowed on its carapace, and it held the colorful biological sword in its hand.

Its eyes have no pupils, only two blue-white slits.

"Eldar's prophet."

Its voice was low, "Your resistance is meaningless."

Elaradron looked at it, there was no fear or anger in those lavender eyes.

There is only a strange sense of calm, as if seeing something that has been foreseen.

"I know."

His voice is very soft.

Swarm Prince's head tilted slightly, and a hint of curiosity flashed through the blue-white eye slit.

It has seen many enemies, some screaming, some crying, some kneeling down to beg for mercy, and some resisting desperately.

But this is the first time I have calmly admitted "I know" like this.

It was Eldar, but it still amused him.

"You know your Craftworlds will be swallowed?"

"Know."

"You knew your people were going to die?"

"Know."

"You knew you were going to die too?"

"Know."

Swarm Prince was silent for a moment.

In the slit of those blue-white eyes, the curiosity turned into something more complicated.

"Then why don't you run away?"

Elaradron smiled.

There was no bitterness in that smile, only a sense of relief that "I have asked myself this question countless times."

"Because I am a prophet."

"I've seen the end of everything, and I've seen the beginning of everything."

"I saw this sea of flowers being burned, and I also saw a new sea of flowers growing among the ashes."

"I saw Craftworlds fall, and I also saw Eldar rebuilding its home among the ruins."

"I have seen your victory and I have seen your defeat."

He raised the staff in his hand, and the Psionic Energy crystal on the head of the staff suddenly lit up.

The light was so dazzling that several creatures behind Swarm Prince took a step back involuntarily.

"You won this Craftworlds, but you didn't win the whole Eldar."

"You didn't."

Swarm Prince's fingers tapped lightly on the sword hilt twice.

The rhythm is slow and steady.

"What did you see?"

There was a strange seriousness in its voice, like a scholar asking for advice from his predecessors.

Elaradron looked at him, Swarm Prince's figure reflected in those lavender eyes.

"I saw the insect nest covering the sky and the sun, swept by golden flames."

"I saw the blue and gold darlings of war descending from the stars."

"He held a flaming sword in his hand, and behind him were countless warriors who were burning like him."

"He will take off your head and use your blood and everything you have to show his supreme honor."

Swarm Prince listened quietly.

It has no rebuttal, no ridicule, no anger.

It just listened, and the old, wrinkled face of Elaradron was reflected in the slits of its blue-white eyes.

"I'm looking forward to this."

Its voice was calm, "I'm looking forward to it."

It raised the biological sword, pointing the sword tip at Elaradron's chest.

"If your prediction comes true, it will be a battle worth remembering."

"If it doesn't come true--"

It paused, and the light in the slit of its eyes turned cold, "You won't know either."

Elaradron did not hide.

He just clasped his hands together and held the staff across his chest.

The Psionic Energy crystal suddenly exploded and turned into a ball of blue flames, engulfing him whole.

That is the last secret technique of the prophet-Soul Ignition.

Use your own soul as fuel, condense all the Psionic Energy into one moment, break through the Psionic Energy interference of the insect swarm, and rush to the other side of the Milky Way.

Not attack, not defense, just passing.

Deliver the last message, deliver the last prophecy, deliver the last hope.

Swarm Prince's sword stopped in mid-air.

It watched the faint blue flame rising in front of it.

Watching Elaradron's body turn into nothingness in the flames, watching the Psionic Energy signal break through the dome of Craftworlds and disappear into the depths of the starry sky.

It didn't stop.

"For Eldar."

Elaradron's voice echoed in the flames, and those were his last words.

Swarm Prince retracted his sword, turned around, and looked at the Eldar soldiers who were still struggling in the ruins.

"Leave no one behind."

Its voice is cold.

Craftworlds Yserin sank in the dark green wave of insect swarms.

The silver-white sea of flowers was swallowed up, the dome of the central temple collapsed, the fragments of Wraith Constructs were scattered on the ground, and the remains of Titans were burning.

The incarnation of Kaine was summoned at the last moment. The giant body burning with bloody flames cut a bloody path through the insect swarm, tearing the three creations of Swarm Prince into pieces.

But the incarnation of Kaine is not the real God of War after all. It is just a fragment, an artifact that carries part of Kaine's power.

Swarm Prince took action personally, and the biological sword drew a colorful arc in the void, cutting off Avatar of Khaine's head.

The burning giant body crashed to the ground, and the bloody flames were extinguished in the dark green insect swarm.

Swarm Prince stood in front of the fallen giant body, looking down at the dissipating bloody light.

"I will always look forward to it, the blue and gold hope..."

Yvraine is sitting in Garden of Nurgle of the Imperial Palace, holding a cup of black tea in his hand.

A layer of fine halo floats on the surface of the tea, which is the unique texture of the blend of Eldar Lingquan and Old Terra tea leaves.

Her hair was braided into a long braid hanging down her back.

There is a silver bell tied at the end of the braid. The breeze blows and makes a small sound like raindrops.

In front of her is a sea of silver-white flowers, which are Eldar roses planted by the goddess of life Isha.

Spreading from the Imperial Palace to Garden of Nurgle, it extends to the city wall in the distance.

She took a sip of tea.

Then, a faint blue light fell from the void and hit her mind.

The light had no sound, no temperature, only a strong, burning sadness.

She saw it.

Elaradron's old face, those lavender eyes.

The sea of silvery flowers swallowed by the swarm of insects, and the fallen Avatar of Khaine.

There is also the dark green figure standing in the ruins, holding a colorful sword and walking towards the starry sky without looking back.

Yvraine's fingers loosened.

The cup of black tea slipped from her hand and hit the stone floor, breaking into countless pieces.

Tea was flowing on the ground, soaking the silver-white rose petals until they were soft.

Her lips were trembling.

Her eyes were burning.

But she didn't cry.

Because in Elaradron's final message, there was not only sadness, but also hope.

"I saw the future."

Yvraine raised his head and looked at the blue sky.

"Golden hope will pierce all dusk!"