Chapter 1 - Beginning of the End

Five figures sat in a darkened room, around a table covered haphazardly in tiles, many blank, some covered in runes. All five were examining the table before them, before leaning back and exchanging looks. "So, that is it then. Farseer Calinthos failed, and his host is falling back to the Webway gates."

"We knew the possibility for failure was high, but this is…"

The speaker paused, and shook their head. The third figure spoke. "Enough. Let us see what must be done to mitigate this disaster before it consumes us."

All five gestured in unison, the rune covered tiles rising into the air, mixing and swirling about in a swarm of random movement. After a moment, again as one, the five gestured and the tiles dropped. Many fell from the table, more landed rune side down, but the ones that landed rune side up would show them their path. After a moment, though, the second speaker leaned back. "No, I refuse to accept this."

The fourth figure glanced at the second, and spoke in a voice as calm as a dead world. "The craftworld is lost. That is clear. All paths lead to that."

The third figure leaned forward and pointed to the runes those two were focused on. All the rune paths lead to the three runes for craftworld, destruction and significant damage. They could try throwing the runes again, but all of them knew they would only get the same result, regardless of how often they tried. However, before anyone descended into despair, the fifth figure, the only male in the room, spoke. "There appear to be two different eventual outcomes."

He gestured, effortlessly lifting the surrounding pieces straight up so they could more clearly view the section in question. There were actually two major paths in, one on the destruction side, one on the significant damage side. Once he had pointed out the slight difference, he returned the pieces. "And significant or critical damage to the craftworld is far preferable to its total destruction. Let us see what paths we have available to us still."

All five turned to the path of damage, rather than destruction, and quickly realized that most of the paths that branched and intertwined with it led from damage, rather than toward. After nearly two hours, they all moved from the table in unison. The first speaker stood up. "I will gather the other seers and warlocks. This must be discussed."

The other four nodded, before turning back to the table as the fourth spoke her piece. "So, we must use… that abomination again."

She was referring to an attempt at avoiding a possible future where the craftworld was destroyed, involving an abandoned Webway Gate that had a path much deeper into the Webway than any other. All that was known was that the gate in question had no other connections, and whatever was on the other end, it couldn't be reached by other gates, and that no one who had ever entered it had returned. They had tried, millennia ago, to avert the craftworld's destruction by sending a host through it, based on a partial reading that had survived a Farseer's death throes during a scrying.

It hadn't worked, and the future in question had never happened, and more than five hundred thousand eldar souls had been lost for nothing. Including an entire Aspect Shrine and both their titan walkers. The Craftworld had never recovered from losing so many of their most talented warriors; never mind the unique equipment and their only Suin Daellae, or Wailing Doom wraith-sword, whose loss had prevented them from ever resummoning their avatar.

The other three nodded before the third speaker added her point. "Yes, but I find the section of runes leading to that more interesting. We finally have a use for the fool. Though the idea of giving him some of our best equipment is abhorrent, I suppose we can spare a few things."

The second speaker gave a delicate snort. "If he is even still alive. How goes his mission?"

The second speaker was talking to the only male, who concentrated, and then mentally winced. "Failing at being subtle."

It was a cool, calm morning on some forgotten forge world, no different from the previous one or the next. Until a cloaked figured dashed out of one of the hangars, running as fast as it could for the wall of the compound. Even as the figure burst from the building, alarms throughout the compound began to sound. The figure gave a soft hiss of displeasure as it kept sprinting, its voice betraying its gender as male despite the distortions from his helmet. "By Khaine's fist, I know disabled those alarms... Wait, what was on patrol nearby…?"

A glance behind him showed a fourteen meter tall figure stomping around the corner of the hangar he had just vacated. Its sinister shape was mostly obscured by the morning smog that lingered around the factories, but the fleeing figure could easily make out the reverse jointed legs, and the canine shaped head. He could also easily see the two weapons it carried, both slowly swinging about to target him. One was a barbaric looking, dual barreled cannon whose ends were starting to glow; the other was a double set of five barrel cannons that were slowly spinning up to firing speed. The figure gave a small nod. "Ah, right, titan."

Luckily for the fleeing figure, he had placed some… 'liberated' demolition charges in several places around the compound, 'borrowed' from a different manufactory across the planet. And even better, the titan was nearly standing on top of the parked hovertruck that was holding several of the bombs that had yet to be distributed amongst the hangars. The figure yanked a device from his cloak, frantically slapped in a code while still sprinting, and then pushed the now glowing red button on the top of the device.

Despite being nearly a quarter of a kilometer from the demolition charge, the blast still had enough power to pick him up and fling him head over heels. As he tumbled, the large cloak flapped free, revealing dark grey curved plates attached to a black mesh undersuit, and a pointed helmet with glowing red optics. The eldar form twisted as it flew, and managed to land upright, but couldn't stick the landing and had to drop to a hand to help stabilize himself as he slid to a stop.

As he stopped, he glanced up and grinned inside his helmet, before yanking his cloak back around him. The titan was destroyed, the left half simply gone. Better, the main target, an even larger titan standing in scaffolding in the hangar he had left, had been completely blown apart by a different demolition charge, and the interior of that hangar was merrily incinerating what little remained.

Even better, the two hangars used for other titans to be repaired or constructed were also burning, one of them outright collapsed. Even as he watched, the hangar that was by the destroyed patrolling titan slowly lost its battle against gravity, and collapsed. With a smirk, he turned and resumed his dash for the wall of the compound, where his jetbike waited. He just had to get to the top of the wall, and then over to where he had parked it. And he had to do it before the main power plant of the compound overloaded and turned the area into radioactive ash and a crater.

The four Farseers finished their scrying of the focus in their runes, and exchanged a look. The fourth one spoke first. "THAT is the one we must trust to forge our path? I am… hesitant."

The third resumed scrying on her own, and watched him climb the wall of the compound while evading fire from the facilities infantry, a small group of red shirted infantry that made extensive use of cybernetics. "He is… undeniably effective, but definitely not someone that would do well with a host."

The second was also watching on her own, as he jumped onto his jetbike and flew off, and snarled something uncomplimentary as the titan factory exploded in nuclear fury behind him. "He might be effective, but… why is he putting dark glasses over his helmet optics? Never mind, better question, are we sure he is sane? With everything else that must happen, the last thing we need is him to fall while we rely on him."

The fourth Farseer spoke again, the fifth simply observing the runes and listening. "The runes have shown us the path. All we can do is walk it as best we can, and doubts do not help."

The male Farseer finally spoke. "I just ordered him to return for a long mission. Also congratulations for a successful mission, though it might not have been how we would prefer it."

The second Farseer turned back to the fifth. "Congratulations for what? He was told to be subtle. And a nuclear explosion is anything but. Especially in the middle of a titan factory."

The male Farseer turned simply nodded in agreement at her points. "Correct, but they have no idea who did it. The explosives he used came from the other side of the same planet. They have no reason to suspect an eldar, any more than they can suspect a tau, a fallen mon-keigh, or one of our fallen brethren."

That comment earned a reluctant nod from the second Farseer, but before any other points could be called up, the first Farseer returned. "The rest of the seers and the warlocks are not satisfied by my news, and wish to be present when we recast the runes."

The four Farseers that had remained simply nodded. "Acceptable. For the Craftworld."

Edit Notes (30 September 2017) - Minor wording tweaks, fixed W40k lore issue.

(24 November 2017) - another lore fix.