The blazing Thunderhawk slammed into a building, tearing its entire left wing away, then spun wildly before crashing into an open clearing.
Horus kicked the jammed door off its hinges and stepped outside, surveying the strange city.
Dozens of Ravager grav-skiffs arrived before them, each packed with Drukhari.
Almost everyone Bona could see belonged to the upper ranks of the Drukhari's fighting forces.
There were the deadly roses of the arenas, the formidable Succubi; Beastmasters with several large cages of ethereal hounds hanging beneath their craft; Incubi raised amid slaughter; and Wracks injected with vast quantities of drugs and grafted with all manner of limbs by Haemonculi.
There were even Wyches.
All told, the armed force before them was more than sufficient to conquer the homeworld of a Chapter that was not one of the original founding Chapters-the successor Chapters split from the nine loyal Legions after Roboute Guilliman issued the Codex Astartes.
The two Archons' skiffs flew smugly up before them.
"Stupid monkeys. Did you think such petty tricks could fool us?"
"Hand over the holy relic, and I won't mind granting you a quick death."
Dalk spotted that towering figure again.
He pointed at Horus.
"Oh, of course, you'll have to stay too."
Just then, terror suddenly appeared on Bona's face.
He shakily dropped to both knees, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.
Horus stood beside him, dumbfounded. Though the Thunder Warriors behind them did not understand, they followed Bona's lead without hesitation and knelt on one knee.
"My apologies, my lords. I never intended to lay hands on the great race's holy relic."
"I only wanted to hand it over to you as soon as possible, in exchange for a slim chance of survival."
With trembling hands, Bona produced that piece of glass-pah! The holy relic.
A faint, inconspicuous trace of psyker power flowed into it, and it blossomed with dazzling light in an instant.
The image within the crystal sphere shocked every Drukhari present.
It was the face of Isha, the Aeldari goddess!
If they obtained this holy relic, challenging Vect and becoming the supreme ruler of Commorragh might well be possible.
No! Even the Craftworld Aeldari and Exodites outside would have to submit.
"Quick, give it to me!" Dalk shouted, his eyes burning.
"Yes, bring it here!" Mukhadas shouted.
Bona looked between the two men, his eyes bewildered.
"There is only one holy relic, but which lord should I give it to?"
Silence instantly fell over the scene, accompanied by a chill that crept down their backs.
Dalk turned to Mukhadas with a smile.
"I think we should work together first to keep this holy relic from falling into Vect's hands. What do you think?"
"I agree. That is the right choice."
"Monkey, hand over the holy relic. And you, the oversized, clever Ogryn-stand farther away."
Horus fought down the urge to snap the scumbag's neck and took a few steps back.
Bona rose and had only taken a few steps forward.
Suddenly, his left foot caught on his right, and he fell to the ground, sending the holy relic flying from his hands.
The holy relic flew through the air beneath everyone's stunned gazes, and Dalk and Mukhadas leaped forward to snatch it.
But the holy relic changed direction in midair at a bizarre angle and flew straight into Dalk's arms.
Dalk held the holy relic in delight, studying it with greedy eyes.
Hahaha! The holy relic had acknowledged him!
He would be the master of Commorragh, the one supreme ruler of the Aeldari.
But suddenly, Dalk felt an icy stare. He looked up to find Mukhadas glaring at him with murder in his eyes.
"A clever little scheme, Dalk. You almost fooled me. When did you put your mark on it?"
"Mukhadas, wait..."
"I have no patience left for your explanations. You think I'm an idiot, don't you?"
Mukhadas waved his hand.
"Warriors of the Blackened Nightmare Kabal! These stupid, shameless bastards intend to keep the holy relic for themselves! Kill them!"
In the blink of an eye, the two Kabals began fighting each other, turning the scene into a frenzy.
Even the warships hanging high overhead opened fire on each other. Packed so closely together, they practically had their gun barrels shoved down one another's throats.
Their torpedoes struck the opposing hulls before they had even warmed up, blasting the already fragile Drukhari warships in two.
Horus stared in astonishment.
He opened his mouth, unsure what to say, only to see Bona already standing and dusting off his legs.
"You're quite talented," Horus said.
"People are always more willing to believe what they see, because the truth is often different from what they think."
"All we need to do is keep the truth hidden and put on a show. These idiots will fool themselves and even fill in all the gaps."
"Let's go. We shouldn't waste any more time."
Drukhari Archons were ruthless figures who had clawed their way up through intrigue and murder. Trust was virtually nonexistent to them.
Horus shrugged and followed Bona.
"To be honest, when you knelt just now, I seriously considered killing you. Even Chaos Astartes wouldn't kneel before xenos."
"Our likenesses have probably long since been carved into the paving stones along Terra's pilgrimage route. Who knows how many people have stepped on them over the past ten thousand years?"
"Why care about that little scrap of dignity now?"
The group entered a passage and happened upon a squad of Kabalite Warriors rushing over as reinforcements.
Both sides were briefly startled. The Kabalite Warriors recovered first, moving to kill these slaves who had dared to flee.
But...
The Klaives stopped dead before the group, hanging motionless.
In the next instant, nameless flames began burning through the Kabalite Warriors. Fire surged from the gaps in their armor, engulfing their entire bodies in the blink of an eye.
They collapsed to the ground, wailing and trying to extinguish the flames. Before long, nothing remained but piles of ash and empty armor.
"They burn far too easily. Why are their souls so fragile?" Bona murmured.
Bona gave a gentle wave, and several clusters of ghostly blue flame flew into his hand.
His eyes shone faintly, and the flames vanished into his palm.
"Wrong direction. It's the other way."
They turned back to see that the battle outside had already reached a fever pitch.
Warship wreckage plummeted from above, crashing among the low buildings, while Klaives and sharp blades flew wildly through the air.
An unlucky Kabalite Warrior was caught at the mouth of an alley by a horrific Grotesque. The enormous, drug-stuffed brute seized both ends of the warrior without hesitation and tore him in half.
Bona frowned slightly.
"We'd better take a detour."
Before you continue