"Who are you?"
An Aeldari warrior attempted to strike first, but Yuki casually snapped his arm and tossed him aside.
"Just a passing, ordinary man."
"Retreat with Alma, now!"
Alma immediately protested, her voice strained with pain. "No! I can still fight! Even if I cannot, we must not lead this creature back to the Craftworld!"
A flicker of feigned terror crossed Yuki's face, which quickly melted into a smirk. "Oh my, you're scaring me! I really don't want to be stuck drifting in the Webway for ten thousand years, so please, be kind enough to take me to your Craftworld for a little visit, won't you?"
"Never!"
The remaining Aeldari warriors lunged at Yuki. They possessed incredibly lithe bodies and combat techniques refined over millennia. Even in the heat of a desperate struggle, they retained the elegance and beauty of the Aeldari from before the Great Fall.
Yuki sighed in admiration. "Craftworlders really are different."
He caught the tip of an incoming spear and funneled psychic energy into it. The Tyranid-derived shadow-warp surged through the shaft and into the warrior's body, causing him to burst from within in an instant. Under the cover of blood and severed limbs, Yuki didn't bother with fancy techniques.
A heavy left hook, and a high-damage right.
After punching through another warrior, Yuki turned his gaze to the fallen Alma. Thanks to advanced Aeldari med-tech, the bleeding from her severed lower half had been cauterized, but this was only a temporary reprieve. Without proper treatment, her death was only a matter of time.
"Alright, take me back to the Craftworld."
Yuki hoisted Alma up, and several thin tendrils from his palm bored into her skull. "Let's see which path we should take."
...
Yuno was in a state of high excitement, purple vein-like patterns glowing on her arms. The combat prowess of these Aeldari was greater than she had imagined, but unfortunately, it was still far from enough to threaten her.
She tore open the Exarch's chest and plucked out his heart, which continued to throb rhythmically. The moment he died, his Spirit Stone captured his soul, only for the gem to fall into Yuno's hand.
A heart and a Spirit Stone—to her, the pairing was like fries and ketchup.
"It's hard to imagine the Aeldari had the creativity to make something everyone loves so much."
The Farseer's runic armor had been shattered, and his arms were twisted together like braided rope. Around him, the Wraithguards and even the massive Wraithlord had been reduced to scrap. Their Spirit Stones were all clutched in Yuno's hands.
Yuno pocketed the Exarch's stone and picked out another, more translucent one, holding it up to the sunlight to admire it. "Why is this one so pretty? Is it from that Wraithlord? It's so beautiful I almost don't want to eat it."
"What... what are you?" the Farseer gasped. "My psychic powers... why? It's so loud... so many souls screaming in my ears..."
Yuno picked a smaller stone and crunched it between her teeth.
"You noticed? That shows you have some real skill. An average psyker would have gone insane at this distance. Though the Aether Fleet isn't large yet, our mental presence is second to none."
The Shadow in the Warp grew denser, a sign that the hibernating Tyranid fleet was fully awakening. Massive capillary towers began to erupt from the ground, and Rippers swarmed from the soil, ready to harvest the very plants Yuno had grown.
Planetary mutations were occurring every second. It was only now that the Farseer realized what the prophecy truly meant.
"Tyranids?"
The Farseer never imagined a Craftworld would stumble upon a Hive Fleet here. He looked up, and the "massive floating rocks" in orbit began to shift and drift with purpose.
"Are you joking?"
"I'm not joking, Aeldari. Your arrival was a truly delightful surprise."
Yuno walked toward the Farseer and pulled the broken helm from his face. As she approached, her body began to sprout predatory organs—gaping maws and pulsating cellular masses.
"Come now. At least you won't have to worry about your soul falling to Slaanesh."
...
The Craftworld had already begun to move away from the planet's orbit. They realized they had made a catastrophic error. They had misjudged the scale of the disaster foretold in the prophecy. This was a catastrophe they had no way of stopping. They should have ignored this strange planet from the start, for the danger wasn't some specific substance on the world—it was the world itself.
Aeldari bonesingers worked feverishly on the Webway Gates. They needed to ensure these gates wouldn't become breach points, yet in their direst hour, these gates were also the Craftworld's final escape route.
"A gate is active!"
"Is it Alma and the others?"
Striking Scorpions leveled their weapons at the target gate. As the light flared, Alma's broken body was tossed out. Without hesitation, the Aeldari warriors present opened fire, shredding what remained of her physical form.
But the man who stepped out after her blocked all incoming fire with a psychic shield.
"You lot are a bit heartless, aren't you? She was one of your own. Even if she's dead, there's no need for that. Shouldn't you be checking her Spirit Stone?"
Yuki walked out, looking at the familiar units surrounding him. He chuckled. "Aren't Striking Scorpions supposed to be stealthy assassins? Why are you standing right in front of me?"
The only answer was a hail of gunfire. Yuki swatted it aside. Unless there was a Phoenix Lord, a Wraithknight, or an Eldar Titan nearby, nothing here could stop him.
"Now, please tell me where the propulsion systems are. I can't let you all run away."
Aeldari warriors poured in from all directions, attempting to box the intruder into a corner of the Craftworld. Every Warrior Shrine dispatched its forces. The Seer Council issued a new prophecy: if this man was not halted, the total destruction of the Craftworld and every soul upon it was a certainty.
Spiritseers, Vypers, War Walkers... one weapon after another was activated. Slumbering ancestors were awakened to fight for their home.
Yuki began to feel a slight strain, but he had already achieved his goal: getting close to the hibernating Lictors the Aeldari had brought back for study earlier.
In the research labs, the bonesingers and scholars only had time for a single scream before their souls returned to their Spirit Stones. The reinforcements arrived to find nothing but empty rooms. Dozens of Lictors had activated their optical camouflage and, under Yuki's command, were now striking at the Craftworld's vital nodes.
Beneath the Craftworld, the nameless "dead" planet began to move. The Tyranids attached to it were wide awake.
The Craftworld Aeldari had to pay the price for waking the beast.