In a flash of light, the five of them appeared. The fact no one suffered from missing body parts or daemonic possession was a boon, knowing how dangerous it was to travel the Immaterium without proper shielding devices. Teleportation using psychic power was discouraged among the high ranking members of the Astropathica and outright punishable by death among lesser psykers. While seemingly innocuous, the risk was too high and the human mind, no matter how powerful or how precise, could not match the sophisticated creations of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and still these devices would occasionally backfire.

Judging from the layout of the chamber he had arrived at, Levantia could safely assume he had been teleported to another ship, though this one seemed to be the exact opposite of the Eternity of Torment. The walls were white and smooth, almost plain-looking compared to the macabre designs of the interior of the previous ship he had been travelling. What few decorations were abstract, a floating cube whose colour changed from red to blue to yellow and back to red, water that flowed upwards out in the open, several drawings resembling the result of a food fight. The air was clean and serene. As a keen observer, Levantia could appreciate the artistry of this place.

But he did not like it. Not his taste.

Not grimdark enough.

If he had brought some decapitated heads of those Dark Eldar from earlier, maybe….

"Where in the name of Throne is this place?" Bruno wowed, engrossed in his wondrous surroundings.

"Welcome to the Wing of Fenix," the White Hero announced. The name was uncannily familiar. Levantia half-remembered Fenix was a world that supposedly an order of Exterminatus was declared after the Astartes Chapter controlling it was found guilty of treason and heresy, but when the Imperial Navy under the Inquisition arrive, the entire planet disappeared without a trace. Considering the White Hero already bore icons belonging to another renegade Space Marine Chapter, despite not being a Space Marine himself, Levantia was not surprised they were related. For now, he would stay his curiosity until he knew more about the man he blindly worshipped for the last twenty years. "Make yourself at home. And by that, I mean make yourself at MY home. If anything is found broken, missing, chaotically tainted or damaged beyond repair, the bill will be drafted to you for the rest of your life, and perhaps your next of kin as well depending on how expensive they are."

The White Hero's bad taste in humour was getting irritating, not that Levantia could get irritated with him.

"And just when I was getting to like this guy," Bruno grumbled. For someone who just lost his arm and taken a severe cut to the chest, he seemed awfully fine, as in he stood and spoke and acted like an asshole, unlike ninety-nine percent humanity who would either die or be impaired for the rest of their life from that.

"My lord," Levantia urged. "Now is not the time. The Farseer is incapacitated and he is grievously injured. May I ask we could use the medical facility."

"I am tired," Yanarr complained. "You don't know how strenuous it was patching up this piece of Mon'keigh meat. I want some rest, alone. If you have any room like that, give it to me."

"Of course," said the White Hero as he produced two sets of keys, each looking like a round-shaped stone with the double fish painted on. He handed one to Levantia and the other to Yanarr. "They will lead you to your personal quarter. Rest well, for, through devotion, loyalty and display of strength, you have more than earned it."

"What about me?" Bruno demanded.

"YOU are coming with me to the infirmary," said the White Hero. "Your bleeding has stopped and the danger to your life passed for now, but your injuries are not to be taken lightly. Those need some proper fixing-up, and the sooner we do it, the fewer permanent adverse effects are you at risk of."

"Oh, come on," Bruno insisted.

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Pretty please."

"This is for your own good, and my honour."

"We'll split the profit fifty - fifty if you let me…"

"You pay me back first before getting indebted to someone else," Levantia admonished. He turned to the White Hero and indicated the unconscious Eldar on his shoulder, asking, "What about her? Can you do anything to help?"

"Not now," said the White Hero. "Her conditions are more salvageable and less time-binding. I promise I will work on her once I am done with him."

"Right," Levantia agreed. This was not the time for bias and Bruno did look like he required immediate attention, not matter how he denied it. There were so many other questions that Levantia wanted to ask, but now was not the time. Felia needed him as much as Bruno needed the White Hero. For now, the whole of his body, mind and spirit was with her.

With that, the group split.


Led by the key's emitted light to his assigned quarter, Levantia was surprised to see how spacious it was. It was three times as large as the room he had been staying on the Eternity of Torment and at least eight times as large as the one he had been forced to share with his Tempestus Scion comrades during his travel to Danark on a carrier ship whose captain had a certain disdain for the so-called "glory boys". There was also a remarkable amount of furniture which included a bed that would fit two people, a wardrobe, a working desk, a book rack with actual books on and some lamps. Many of these were of human origin, which should look out of place on an Eldar ship, but the way they were organised and presented was impeccable that they fit right it.

Quickly, Levantia placed down Felia on the bed.

"Car-los," came Felia's tiny voice.

"We are safe now," Levantia assured her. "How do you feel right now."

"Cannot…breath. These clothes…are choking me." That seemed to be given, seeing how tight they were. In fact, Levantia was pretty sure these were bondage suits renovated to something more elegant and less eye-catching without lessening its purpose.

"I will get you out," said Levantia as he moved on to removing her clothes. The gloves were easy to take off, but the rest looked like they had been attached to Felia in some incomprehensible manner. There were no buttons or zipper, and the alien fabric proved both durable and compressed. Out of option, Levantia pulled out a knife and said, "Try to hold still."

Wielding his weapon cautiously, Levantia cut off the fabric to allow Felia some breath. To ruin such elegant costume was deplorable, but he was certain this was the only way and Felia's very survival might depend on this.

"Darelyn," said Felia weakly, her stiff breathing exploded into rushed gasps after the fabric clinging to her throat was removed. "She is…she is…"

Levantia fought back the tears, only to realise his eyes and cheeks were red without him knowing. Darelyn was the first Dark Eldar he could trust, first alien even. She was the first of many and the inception of his concept of seeing xenos equally to humans. After all the development between them, all the time they spent together, now she was gone forever.

"She is dead," Levantia replied with as much consolidation as he could muster.

To his surprise, the Farseer looked clearly disturbed and saddened by the confirmation. To his knowledge, they had been fighting like cat and dog since the moment they met. For quite some time, Levantia had been worried about how to construct his triangle relationship without anyone biting each other in the ass, only to find it finished right before his eyes one day. What had made the change in their relationship to the point Felia had such reverence for the Dark Eldar must have taken place while he was being treated by Crox after his duel. Of course, the Archon just had to ruin it.

"I sensed it," Felia proclaimed. "I felt the echo of her death approach, the screaming of her soul as it departs from the body. Oh, by the gods, have I gone mad?" Her voice became increasingly panicky. "Has the ordeal corrupted my mind in some way I cannot discern? Because I can still feel her presence inside this very room."

Levantia produced the spirit stone from his pocket. "Her spirit has not left this plane. She shall worry about She-Who-Thirsts no longer."

Felia looked elated at first, but her mood dropped when she looked closer and read the inscription on it. "This…is an atrocity."

Levantia's heart sank. "W-why?"

"This spirit stone belongs to another Eldar," explained Felia. "They came from Craftworld Alaitoc, but for whatever reason chose to abandon their sanctuary. The connection to them from this spirit stone is shattered, but fragments of it remain. They probably died without their spirit ever rejoining their ancestors within the Infinity Circuit."

Levantia pondered. With how the White Hero turned out to be, there was little doubt he killed the spirit stone's previous owner and took it from him afterwards as a spoil. No matter how he felt for the Craftworld Eldar in general and not just Felia, he found nothing to feel disturbed or unsettled about this. Levantia had absolute faith in the White Hero's fairness and self-control; whoever got killed probably deserved it, a low-life corsair who unwittingly left his home to annoy other species, only to find their well-deserved death.

Reckoning what the White Hero said earlier about the three options he could choose regarding the fate of Darelyn, Levantia realised the spirit of whoever previously owned this spirit stone must have already been claimed by the White Hero's master. Speaking of whom, Levantia had a good idea regarding the actual identity of this deity out of the inquisitorial documents his clearance level allowed him access to. The only thing left to make sure was to confront this with the White Hero himself.

But now was not the time.

"I am sorry," Felia apologised. "The words slipped my mouth. I should not have brought that irrelevant subject up. I was so used to speaking what I have in mind that I am insensitive in situations like this."

"That is fine," Levantia consoled her. "I am not offended by it. By the end of it, you were closer to her than what we started with. You bonded with her while I was not around, is that right?"

Felia explained how Darelyn had been taking care of her during Levantia's leave and how she ultimately kicked some sense into the Farseer albeit with some rather unconventional method (at least for anyone besides the Dark Eldar). Hearing it made Levantia even more depressed. Darelyn, like Levantia, was willing to make the threesome work, and she pulled her own weight into making Felia part of it. She did it not only for Levantia but herself and Felia so that the three of them could finally be together. But in the end, she was the one who got left behind.

"This is all my fault," the Farseer began tearing up. "My vision failed me. What is the power to see the future good for if one was so powerless to change its outcome?"

"What do you mean your vision?" Levantia asked. Then, he realised there was still one mystery he had yet to solve: why Felia agreed to help the Archon expose the intruder, but in the end failed. Looking at the way the White Hero disregarded her, it was unlikely he had done anything before to ruin her divination. "Are you saying that…?"

"I knew about the coming of the so-called hero, but I chose to withhold such information from the Archon," Felia confirmed. "I did it because otherwise you would have stayed loyal to the Archon. And then he would dispatch you to fight off the intruder. I thought your loyalty would be your downfall. How wrong was I."

The Farseer disclosed to Levantia how Darelyn told her the truth about her purpose on the Eternity of Torment. Prior to his connection to the intruder being made known, both women were worried that he was too close to the Archon and that might lead to his death at the hand of the White Hero. And so, Felia decided to take the fall to make sure Levantia would not follow the Archon to the grave.

Levantia was shocked to know the truth. Had she revealed about the White Hero, the end result for him would have been the same, for no matter how faithful he was to the Archon, there was no way he could bring himself to fight against his very idol who had, in fact, come to save him. That and the fact Darelyn was working for the White Hero would ensure his change of heart. If that had been the case, Felia would not have suffered so much, but there was no telling whether Darelyn could have been saved. Sure, the Farseer would be more able to save her from the Klaivex, but there were a plethora of things that might happen.

Besides, if the Archon had never betrayed him, Levantia would have been much more depressed by his death, even if it was the White Hero's doing.

The possibilities were…unfathomable. Which was why if that bit was the only thing the past that could have been changed, Levantia was not inclined towards it.

If only they had told him about the White Hero in the first place, though. That would have changed everything.

"It is not your fault," said Levantia.

"I am a Farseer," Felia hissed. "If I cannot put my gift to good use, then what am I? You did so much for me. I only wanted to pay you back, but in the process, I overlooked so many other important aspects of the real situation. I let myself be humiliated and tormented because I believed I was saving you, not knowing the truth all along."

"No," Levantia cut in. "Many things should have been done, but they were not. That is how destiny works. You can never know what to expect, and every time you look back, you can see nothing but regrets." It felt so weird for a human to be preaching an Eldar about destiny, but Levantia was certain with every word that came out. "I did not want her to die. I thought I could protect her with my strength. In the end, nothing worked the way I wanted. But that is the true nature of this universe, that we are all a small part of it and that our fates are at the whim of its motion. This is not some fairy tale where everybody lives happily forever. This is the reality."

A moment of silence between the two of them passed before Felia continued, "What are you going to do from now?"

Levantia sighed. "Move forward I guess. The Emperor and the Archon are not my objects of admiration out of my free will, but through indoctrination and threats of punishment. Such faiths are flimsy, and as soon as the enforcement ceases, things go back to the way it was. The White Hero is different, however."

"How do you know? You saw what he did, turning against all those Druchii he once called allies. He allowed his loyal informant to perish right before your eyes. How could someone like that be trustworthy?"

Levantia shrugged. "Intuition. I have been saved by him not once but twice. We all own our lives to him. Without him, we would never have escaped from that hell hole."

"And Darelyn?" Felia pressed. "She trusted him. Look at what happened to her."

"It could not be helped," said Levantia. Though saddened by the deaths of so many of his loved ones, he still considered it irrational to put the blame on anyone for their involvement alone. The Archon and his lackeys were at fault because they carried out the deeds. Levantia was at fault because of his false promise. Felia was at fault because of…complicated reasons. But not the White Hero, nor Bruno and Yanarr. "No force in this universe is almighty. Not the Emperor of Man and not the Gods of Chaos. The White Hero gave his best, and I appreciate him for what his efforts were put into. I know for sure he will never betray me nor harm me nor take advantage of me in any way. That is someone I will follow till the very end. I hope you can understand that."

"And I hope you will not regret," said Felia, accepting the fact her lover was about to adopt a whole new religion neither of them had many clues about other than Levantia's beliefs.

"I will not," Levantia assured. He wiped away his tears and turned back to more pressing matters. "But for now, what I am going to do is to ensure maximum respiratory capability from you."

Levantia went back to releasing Felia from her mobile prison. Cutting away the suit proved more challenging than Levantia expected. His initial impression that it had firmly embedded in her skin was a clear underestimation; the fact was that it had replaced her skin altogether. There was no denying it now: this was the product of evil, made with malice and the embodiment of all things despicable. Only one species in the entire galaxy was capable of creating it, and Levantia was glad he had renounced all his association with them.

"Arghhhh. Urgh!" If the work was not already tedious enough, Felia's sensual moans only helped to lessened Levantia's sanity further, much like how she reacted when he tried to pry the fragment from her foot. Why the one who was a Farseer, out of all the possible Eldar occupations/paths, always gave him such trouble all the time was a question Levantia was not sure he could ever find the answer. If this had become a habit of her, then it was time Levantia took some drastic measures, and the Dark Eldar more then gave him the inspiration to.

The blade Levantia possessed was surprisingly effective for its jagged-looking edge. Like any weapon manufactured by the Dark Eldar, this was capable of inflicting injuries so surgically precise the enemy would not realise they had them until it was all too late. While lacking the skill and sadistic tendency to achieve its full potential, Levantia did his job like a tailor, or anti-tailor in this case. With every article removed, Felia's whines grew huskier and more severe, her exposed skin as red as a cooked lobster. Her toes and fingers were swollen. Felia was right. Being a Farseer did not suit her, fan service did. Eventually, all pieces of those hideous garments came out.

Except one.

This thing stood out apart from the others. Never before had Levantia felt so distubed by an object, as if his life force was being sucked away just by looking at it, and that was saying a lot given all the foul Chaos and Necron artefacts he had encountered. It so reeked with malevolence that even the purest Imperial Saint would have to turn away in disgust.

The panties.

Levantia stopped for a moment to consider his options as to what to do with this. He felt like someone who was chewing a jawbreaker, only to find there was a rock inside. The panties were to be the greatest obstacle yet, having firmly gotten a hold on the Farseer's crotch and looking like it had become constituent to her. Yet, the damage was evident with the panties squeezing into Felia's womanhood in a manner similar to an Ork squeezing a hugely oversized Squig into his standard oversized mouth.

"How…bad it is?" Felia asked sheepishly.

"Dreadful," replied Levantia frankly. Between the entire universe getting swallowed by Chaos and spending twenty years surrounded by tentacle hentai, there were definitely worst things out there that could come true in his lifetime (Levantia prayed it was not the latter). But still, this was something he found himself unprepared to face.

There was no backing off now. He would do it. Just as the White Hero granted him his freedom, so too would he grant Felia's hers.

And so he worked on it. Using the knife, using his teeth, using what vile knowledge he could get out of the grimoire Crox had entrusted him with. After many trial and error attempts, eliciting a crescendo of lewd responses from Felia, he finally did it. He had defeated the Dark Eldar creation. Next, he would face the tentacle hentai.

But that was for another day. Right now, looking at the fully naked form of the Farseer, Levantia found his heart beating at an incredible rate as though it was going to burst out of his chest and take the next train to la-la land. Felia caught his gaze and blushed. Her face, which was the only part of her body escaping vandalism from the suit, turned the same colour as the rest of her body. If Khorne were in this room, he might have mistaken her for his bride.

"Well, I guess that is all," said Levantia nervously. The Eldar was in such a state of shock and embarrassment that she could not utter a single intelligible word. Levantia almost lost his control at that point. He wanted to make her suffer and sneer upon her pain, to make her kneel down and beg like a proud and arrogant creature she was.

It was only with tremendous effort that Levantia was able to prevent the Dark Eldar part of his brain from doing anything every other part would register as regrettable later. Yet, with all the beauty and generosity laid bare before him, inaction was a crime in itself.

Levantia hoped she was ready for this, for his method had changed greatly since they had a moment together like this. Darelyn taught him a lot, and Crox gave him a few good advice on how to make a sexual relationship work…totally in his favour. In honour of their deeds in life, Levantia would follow it.

As he mentally prepared himself for what would happen next, Levantia could hazily hear a faint voice whispering inside his head. It could be Felia using her psychic power to tell him that she was not ready for this, that she would rather he did it at another time when he had fully recovered. It could be his former person, full of faith and indoctrination, denouncing him for what kind of monster he had become. It could be the Big E himself scolding his heretical intent which went not only against the Imperial Creed, but the human race (and perhaps the Eldar race) as a whole.

It mattered not. Levantia knew better to follow an unidentified voice when this was what his very heart urged him to.

And so he began.

The cute pair of feet were the first target. It only took Levantia a minute to tear down Felia's defence and turn her into a laughing mess. Her melodic distressed voice was music to his ears.

The pointy ears were next, caressed by Levantia's fingers and tongue. At this point, Felia looked like a piece of sausage that had forsaken its will to live.

Levantia kissed her passionately and forcefully. The Farseer could not refuse even if she wanted to.

Not allow his prey any respite, Levantia explored the entity of her body with the thoughtfulness of an artist. Every part of her was touched and played with, except for the cradle of ultimate damnation which he saved for last. Helpless against the assault, Felia could only moan and whimper.

Levantia went back to the feet, and another stream of guffawing ensued. The Tempestus Scions' role in battle was to attack the enemy where they were weakest and gain the most out of it. Even if that mean hitting a place that had already been ravaged.

And finally, with his prey thoroughly worn down, Levantia moved down to the region between her legs and delivered the killing blow.


Levantia had never had such good sleep in his life. Perhaps it was because, for the first time, he was asleep in a proper bed, not the ground nor the standard Imperial Guard sleeping position nor one of those Dark Eldar weird things that bounced back twice as hard every time its occupants applied sudden pressure. Perhaps it was because Felia was next to him, as nude as the day she was born and also sleeping soundly. Or perhaps his overall mood was simply elated at his freedom and the fact the hero from his childhood had personally come to save him.

The losses incurred were deplorable but he was determined to move forward. A seasoned soldier, he was accustomed to the death the ones he cared so deeply for. Looking back would not help, and there were so many ways he could be of use to a greater cause thanks to his new physique and the skills he acquired from his stay with the Dark Eldar. The injuries he sustained during the previous battle were minor flesh wounds, and it also appeared that his regenerative rate had increased since Crox had made the modification.

Getting out of bed without waking up the sleeping beauty, Levantia went to take a bath. It felt wonderful, the hot water cascading his body and washing away all the filth he accumulated over the course of his imprisonment.

After cleaning himself, Levantia walked to the wardrobe to get dressed. While he did not dislike the Kaballite Armour which provided superior dexterity at the cost of defence to its wearing, having it on outside combat was still uncomfortable at best and an impediment to his everyday life at worst. Besides, that armour was getting worn down from the numerous battles it had been through without proper maintenance in between anyway.

The insignia on the wardrobe looked like it belonged to some military organisation, though Levantia was not sure what that was or even if they were part of the Astra Militarum or not. Inside it were numerous sets of blue and white uniform, each neatly place and complete with boots, trouser, shirt, vest coat and hat. A drawer below contained military-class underwear for males. They did not look like standard Imperial Guard stuff, but Levantia could not complain. Putting on a set with the designation of Lieutenant, Levantia felt like it had been a lifetime since he last fought in the name of the Emperor, even though it had been only a few months.

Hungry, Levantia looked around the room for anything to eat. He found nothing except a menu with a variety of meal orders written in Low Gothic on one side and what he presumed to be Eldar Lexicon on the others. Some of the names were familiar enough, but others were purely rhetoric and Emperor knew what they actually contain, let alone taste like.

"Wallace's Triumph," Levantia muttered sarcastically. "It would be nice to have one of those."

The next thing that happened, a dish appeared right before him, consisting of what looked like a severed Ork arm coated in brown sauce and some vegetables. Closer inspection showed it was, indeed, an Ork arm. Levantia reckoned Felia said about the Craftworld having a mind of its own and providing its citizens' needs automatically. Given the White Hero's heritage, despite whether he was really an Eldar or not remained a mystery as much as where the Emperor was, the ship he was on was probably a mini-version of an Eldar Craftworld.

Having his genuine meal, albeit unexpected food, for the first time since years, Levantia wondered what of the rest of the ship. The Wing of Fenix was not simply a whole new environment; it undoubtedly contained many elements Levantia had never seen before. As a result, just like the Eternity of Torment, there were many things he wanted to observe, discover and make his own deductions and half-guesses out of pure pleasure. But alas, he was loathed to leave Felia on her own, even when she was sleeping.

And so, Levantia grabbed a book from the shelf and started to read. All the books were military, which was fine because Levantia had always wanted to further his pursuit of knowledge ever since his study was cut short due to graduation to field combat.

After a few minutes, Levantia could hear some knocks on the door. Opening it revealed none other than the White Hero, now without his armour and donning a long robe that Levantia assumed was the civilian costume for the Eldar. Unlike the one Felia used to have, a present from her late father until it was completely ruined, this one looked rather plain with not many motifs and only two colours black and white.

"Good afternoon," said the White Hero. "I hope your stay has been a pleasant one."

"It is," said Levantia. "My gratitude for all of your provisions. We are in your debt."

"No need," said the White Hero. "May I come in for a little chat? Typically I would invite you somewhere else, but my schedule is closed, and you seem reluctant to leave this room when she is here. There must be many questions you want to be answered."

"There are," Levantia confirmed. He gestured the White Hero to come in. "Please."

The White Hero explained it all without fail, how he was first contacted and came to save Darelyn who was a princess of a noble family on the run after her father was assassinated by rivals. The lord had sheltered Darelyn her entire life so that she could be the daughter that would take care of him, literally, in his old age. After being rescued and appalled by her discovery of the true nature of her race, Darelyn wished to become a citizen of the White Hero's Craftworld, but that would be impossible due to its strict immigration policy. For a Dark Eldar to be admitted, they must spend years performing dangerous, if not suicidal, tasks to earn their place, much like the Imperial Guard penal battalion. Her only chance was White Hero's special recommendation, but in order to get that, she had no choice but to become his spy on the Kabal of Shadow Talon. In the end, Darelyn accepted this deal knowing she would not set foot on Commorragh ever again and that the White Hero would train her to become stronger.

In one word, the White Hero used Darelyn like an asset. No different to how all of Levantia's commanders had been using him so far.

"I am terribly sorry for your lost," said the White Hero. "Darelyn was vital to the success of the operation and I, too, am regretful that she did not make it. All of your friends too. I made the promise that they would all live through it, but in the end, I failed. I have no intention to hide or diminish my fault in this. If I had been more careful when assessing the situation, or less engrossed in my personal quarry, more lives should have been saved."

"It is not your fault," said Levantia firmly. In his mind, it was already established who were to blame for what happened, and neither Felia nor the White Hero belonged to the list, no matter how much they admitted. "You gave your best. We all gave our best. It was not enough to win the battle against fate itself. It is pointless to feel guilty over it."

"That is an interesting perspective," the White Hero remarked. "Very progressive. You really are one of a kind, are you not, Carlos Levantia?"

That was exactly what everyone had been telling him the whole time, him being the special one that could not be categorised into any existing class. And Levantia was proud of that. "What about you?" he asked. "Are you not just like that? I get it you are not Eldar, at least not completely Eldar. So what are you?"

"A hybrid," the White Hero replied tersely.

Levantia was not taken back by the revelation. While he looked almost entirely like an Eldar, the White Hero possessed many characteristics pertaining to humans, both genetic and personal. "Is that possible?"

The White Hero shrugged. "I do not know. My birth was exceptional. My mother was an Eldar and my father a general of the Mordian Iron Guards. She delivered me to any Eldar mother delivering her baby, and then by brother as well. Ever since, no duplications of this attempt at cross-breeding were successful, but I believe it is mainly due to the unclean goals they were carried out with. Mother and father came together out of pure love, nothing more. It is their love that caused a miracle to happen."

"Indeed," said Levantia. Hearing so made him more convinced that his relationship with Felia would not come to a dead end and that a biological offspring may not be too far-fetched, regardless the apparent fact it would be more Eldar than human. He remembered what the Wrack said about a baby between him and Darelyn, so either he knew cross-breeding was entirely possible or the Dark Eldar could make it happen. With the genuine love he shared with Felia and this body created by the Eldar, Levantia was certain he would have a successor, assuming he did not die in combat before that. "But I doubt everyone in the Imperium will receive this news in the same manner. Not all factions within it will take this without bigotry blinding their judgement and zealotry guiding their actions. If one instance can happen, there is bound to be more, and some will do everything to prevent or induce it."

"The same can be said for the Eldar," said the White Hero. "Some say I am a blessing to both races while others denounce me as a half-breed abomination, a stain to the Eldar gene-pool. I care not what they say. I had a happy childhood and as long I am doing my part in the Restoration, my questionable birth circumstance is secondary. The Restoration has always been all I am dedicated to."

"Restoration?" asked Levantia. "You mean the Eldar Empire?"

The White Hero shook his head. "In a way, the Eldar will find their salvation in this, but the Restoration is much more than that. I am talking about peace and order in the galaxy. The final defeat of the Chaos Gods and the Necrontyr. The containment of the Orks and Tyranids. Ever race living in harmony and thriving, instead of opposing, in the presence of one another. The Master has returned and his plan in motion. While I might not live to see this outcome, I will gladly give everything for it."

During his training as a Tempestus Scion, Levantia was exposed to many horrifying truths about what lied beyond the veil, the madness and abasement that dwelled in their and how they perverted the weak and unsuspecting minds. His clearance level allowed him knowledge to the names of the Dark Gods of Chaos: Khorne, Tzeentch, Nurgle and Slaanesh. But there was one more. The records were sketchy at best, but the fact at least one Space Marine Chapter had succumbed to this influence could not be ignored so easily. A Chaos God whose existence was to bring the end to all other Ruinous Powers.

"The Master you serve," said Levantia. "Are you talking about Malal?"

"Malal the Renegade God is but one of the many guises He had adopted over the years," said the White Hero, chuckling. "As his faithful followers, we refer to him as Craddol the Master of Order, Brightest Star, Twin-dragon and First Primordial Truth. Before there were Nurgle and Khorne, before the names of Tzeentch and Slaanesh were uttered by a living being, before the Eldar pantheons were born and before Gork and Mork started their first Craddol was holding the galaxy in his palm as per the Old Ones' willing. Then came the Star Gods and their wretched servants, the Necrontyr. The War of Haven saw an end to His reign and many races that worshipped him. Craddol went into hiding, only to return when the galaxy needs him again, such as right now."

"I am not sure about adopting a new religion yet," Levantia said. "No offence to your Master, though. However, I will need some time to get used to the fact there is a power in existence more divine than the Emperor himself, one that could finally put a permanent end to Chaos where the Emperor had failed."

"Do not say that," the White Hero admonished. "Praise the Emperor to your heart's content, for his holiness is every bit as real as the Imperial Creed preaches you."

"The Emperor disappeared from the Golden Throne centuries ago when Holy Terra was sacked by Abaddon," said Levantia. It was unbecoming of him to blaspheme the Emperor, but the truth was still that, and it was not like there was any priest or commissar around to castigate him for saying so. "How do you know he is still around?"

"Trust me," said the White Hero cordially. He grabbed at Levantia's shoulder, which almost made him finch. Even now, Levantia could not accept the fact one of the most powerful creatures in the galaxy was greeting him like a friend. "I have seen it myself. I was doubtful at first, but now my eyes are open. Craddol and the Emperor are, in a way, friends. You can swear your allegiance to one without renouncing the other."

"I guess that is good for me, then," said Levantia, relieved that he could continue worshipping the Emperor like before. Even better, if the White Hero confirmed the Emperor's divinity, then it was a given fact. It meant his faith was no longer blind and had more of a purpose now. Feeling more invigorate, Levantia asked eagerly, "So what's next? Where are we going?"

"To Craddol Coalition," White Hero replied. "Your story is something many would like to hear."

"And when am I back to the fight?" It could not be helped. With all his training and experience, physical strength and personal skills, his life would be empty and void of motivation without combat. Now that no more harm could be inflicted on Felia, he did not need to worry about protecting her.

He still wanted to serve a greater cause.

He still wanted to aid those in need while delivering punishment to the wicked.

And moreover, he still wanted to make the White Hero proud like he did as a child. Now was his chance to fulfil his life resolution.

The White Hero smiled. "Soon enough."


Bonus story: game time.

Four days after their arrival and things were looking rather well. In fact, Levantia could not have hope for a better ending to his journey. Bruno had fully recovered (somehow) despite his lack of one arm. He and the White Hero also got on like a house on fire, much to Levantia's surprise. The two of them chatted for hours on ends about their past records. Apparently, before becoming the Dark Eldar Archon Slavara, the White Hero had served in a myriad of Astra Militarum regiments, including the Catachan and Mordian Iron Guards. His service history, according to him, was impressive. And where many fought in the Astra Militarum because they had no other choice, the White Hero merely considered it a way to train himself as well as get to know the forces of the Imperium better.

Felia had also made a recovery, though she was quite reserved being around others. Levantia could not blame her after all she had been through. The limiter attached to her brain had been safely removed by the White Hero, allowing her the full extent of her psychic capability, much to her relief. She had also donned new clothes and looked as gorgeous as ever, at least outside her naughty time with Levantia.

And Yanarr. Well, nothing happened to him. Which was a boon because he was a Dark Eldar, and while Levantia did not want to mistrust him, there were a plethora of things that could have gone wrong when they have a Dark Elar roaming around unchecked.

Gathering everyone in the common room, the White Hero invited them to play the Emperor's game. Since it was simple and there was nothing else to do as a group, Levantia and Bruno quickly agreed. It was the same game they used to play with other overseers back in their cell. After explaining the rule to Felia and Yanarr, both of them consented as well.

The Emperor's game was simple with each person drawing from a set of straws, each with a number on it except one which was marked "the Emperor". Whoever got to be the Emperor got to make one order for the others, using only the numbers to address their subject. Everyone else kept their number a secret until after the order had been declared so that the designated Emperor would have no idea who would be affected.

The first draw took place and...

"It seems your fate is at my hand," announced the White Hero, which could not be closer to the truth given their actual situation. "Now, I want number four to fetch that teapot over their and pour for each one of us."

"What kind of lame order is that?" Yanarr complained over how innocent it was.

"Tea is not lame," argued the White Hero.

"I think it is quite pleasant," Felia chimed in. "My throat is quite dry. Please."

"On it," Bruno said. He did as was told and proceeded to spill half the pot's content in the process, his larger fingers simply incapable of handling the delicate pot properly. "They should have made larger pots."

"They should have asked the Orks to make their pots," Yanarr sneered. Bruno gave him a glare that said, "I will remember this".

"I will take that into consideration when I next resupply," said the White Hero as he casually sipped his tea.

The next round, Levantia got to be the Emperor. He was torn. On one hand, he wanted to make fun of someone else and on the other, he did not want Felia to be the one to be made fun out of. So he went for something simple.

"Number three kiss number two in the cheek," he said.

"I guess that means me," said Felia, and Levantia was immediately glad he did not go for eating a Catachan chilly as originally intended. Had that been his order to number three, he might as well finish what Archon Feharuln Snaketongue had started.

"Number two here," said Bruno. The lucky bastard, Levantia thought.

Felia laid down the kiss on Bruno's cheek and the big man did not seem to care much. No wonder why he could not find a woman for himself.

"Where is the charming prince?" asked Yanarr. "The kiss has been made, then what is this big fat ugly Mon'Keigh still doing here? Why has the curse not yet been broken?"

"Only the true love kiss has the ability to do so," said the White Hero, nodding at Levantia who blushed, reckoning the fact kissing Felia had snapped her out of mind-control, twice. Felia also blushed at this comment.

Bruno shot the Dark Eldar another glare, this time saying, "You will get what you deserve".

Third round went to Yanarr. Levantia expected some crazy stuff to happen with this one, and he was not to be disappointed when the Dark Eldar gave his order, "Number four, put woman's underwear on your head, stand on your hands and bark like a dog."

"Fine then," said Bruno as he once again displayed stoicism against the odds. As he complied, Yanarr took out a pict capt and took in the whole thing.

"It looks like I have gathered enough data for my research on basic Mon'Keigh behaviour," said Yanarr. "If I could smuggle this back to Commorragh, I would make fortune."

"We split the profit fifty-fifty," said Bruno.

"Eighty-twenty," Yanarr countered. "Petting animals have no right to negotiate."

Bruno did his best to contain his anger, shooting at Yanarr a baleful glare that could only mean one thing:"FUCK YOU!".

Fourth round and, as if fate had it, it belonged to Bruno who was eager to have his revenge. The problem was, he did not know Yanarr's number, so there was only one way for his retaliation to be assured.

"Number one to four, give me eighty."

"Are you insane?" cried Levantia. A cluster punishment was something he had done nothing to deserve.

"With one arm."

"Are you fucking insane?!" Yanarr exclaimed.

"And one volume of the Codex Astartes on your back."

"Roboute Guilliman would not approve that," remarked the White Hero.

"I think I will pass on this," said Felia, withdrawing.

"Any of you ladies want to pass as well?" Bruno taunted.

Nobody said a thing. Yanarr was the first to collapse from the task, having done only sixty-two push-ups. Levantia made it to the end but was thoroughly worn, unable to even stand up, his right arm sore like a pipe under pressure three times its capacity. The White Hero not only was the first to finish but also looked like he could do another eighty without any issue.

"If I had my drug with me, this would have been a piece of cake," Yanarr whined.

"Drugs are the products of evil," the White Hero warned. "I will not have them on board."

"I think..we should call this off," panted Levantia.

"If you cannot take it anymore, then I see no reason why we should go on," the White Hero agreed.

"You should not have tried so hard," said Felia as she reached down to him. A smile ran across her face. Somehow, Levantia was not encouraged by that. "But now that you are weakened, I might finally gain an advantage on the bed. Today, the roles of Khaine and Isha will change hands, and the oppressor will know true horror as his prey becomes his downfall."

Levantia gulped in fear, his body still paralysed. Tonight, for the first time since his freedom from Archon Feharuln, he would know the meaning of helplessness.


Author's notes: Well guys, after more than two years of writing, this has finally come to an end. I am proud to say this is the first human x Eldar romance that sees its conclusion after the much-loved Suffer Not the Xenos to Live was on permanent hiatus. It was a great pleasure for me to write this and all you readers make it much more fun.

The material in this chapter is M rated, so be warned. However, having only one chapter like that is not going to make a difference to the whole of the story, so I am leaving it at T. Warhammer 40k's general theme is already dark and violent anyway, so people coming here should be well-prepared. I understand this story is not a grimdark as some people might expect, but a lot of the grimdark official materials feel stupid and without reasons. This is literature first and Warhammer 40k second. Literature standards must come BEFORE grimdark elements.

With the upcoming release of Dawn of War 3, I don't know what to say about it. I play Dota 2, but I am not fond of Relic borrowing so many elements from this. 3 factions are too few for the Warhammer 40k universe, and the fact both Eldar and Space Marines are featured make me even less excited. Graphic looks really good, but the Eldar and Space Marine infantry models are ugly as hell. Their movements are also retarded. The story is absurd in the extreme. Space Marines preventing Eldar from self-harming and not the other way around? And why is Gabriel trying to stop Macha even though he was the one who released the Maledictum which resulted in the destruction of most of his Chapter?

What I like about the game so far is that the game allows you to choose a loadout with 3 commanders and 3 powerups, something similar to Company of Heroes 2 (though you can ultimately choose one commander in the match). The Orks is the only faction that looks really cool. Their designs and animation are quite badass. The voices for the Space Marines are also better than Dawn of War 2 where it sounds all the same. Now, Space Marines do sound differently.

All in all, I really hope Dawn of War 3 would be good. Because otherwise, they would not release DLC and there would be no Chaos or Tau race in the future. So there's that.

Moving on from this, I will try to finish half-written stories out of honour, as well as cracking up some one-shots. However, I am intending on writing Danganronpa SYOC story since I recently got interested in that genre. I will still try to read and review Warhammer 40k stories, though.

One again, thank you for coming with me until the end. May the Emperor be with you.