"Haha, quite right." The Emperor chuckled, seemingly relishing the sight of Lucius's frustration. Though the Master of Mankind could perceive the skaven harassment spanning the breadth of the Imperium, he knew his domain would not fall to the ratmen.
"You won't intervene? If you aren't intervening, how did the Custodes know to destroy the warp gates?" Lucius asked, eyeing the golden youth who continued to chuckle.
"Ahem, there is no need to dwell on that. Regardless, out of sentiment for your human essence, I shall grant you three years," the Emperor said after a feigned cough. "In three years' time, I shall still the tides of this Warp storm."
"Among your past identities on Holy Terra, surely one of them must have been Cardinal Richelieu," Lucius remarked.
The Emperor shook his head. "Actually, I once acted as his 'rare commodity to be hoarded.'"
Lucius understood that despite the catastrophic losses, the Imperium owed a strange debt to these skaven. Occupying the same ecological niche as Genestealer Cults, Chaos cultists, heretics, and other xenos, the skaven uprisings had hounded these rivals into utter disarray, inadvertently helping the Imperium stabilize its subsequent position.
This was doubly true in the Imperium Nihilus, where other xenos and the forces of Chaos were being driven to the brink of madness by the skaven's chaotic interference.
Even the traitors suffered. Abaddon's logistics relied entirely on plundering the Imperium; having only just split the galaxy in two, the Despoiler had no time to reap the fruits of his victory before the skaven ran amok, causing significant turmoil for the Black Legion.
…
"These cursed xenos… in the name of the Gods, slaughter them all!" Haarken Worldclaimer roared. Following his ignominious defeat at Vigilus, he had remained within the Nachmund Gauntlet to continue the campaign against the Imperium.
However, it wasn't long before the Warp storm marking the Great Horned Rat's apotheosis swept through, making Warp travel perilous even for the Black Legion. Aside from those under the direct protection of the Four Powers, they fared little better than the Imperium.
On the planet where Haarken's forces were refitting, countless skaven erupted from beneath the Hive cities, throwing the already disorganized Chaos logistics into a shambles.
Haarken's Helspear transfixed innumerable vermin, yet the skaven seemed inexhaustible. He eventually turned to his specialty: utilizing desecration and terror to shatter the enemy's resolve.
Haarken ordered Chaos icons and vox-amplifiers placed throughout the Hive, broadcasting profane cacophonies from the Warp. The non-human shriekings and hellish vibrations of the Dark Gods were enough to frighten mortals to death; without the protection of a true god, demise was certain.
"No-no... NO!"
The Skaven, being a naturally craven race, reacted predictably to these hellish sounds. Slave Rats and Clanrats were seized by ultimate terror, their musk-glands secreting the foul stench of fear. This musk further triggered a chain reaction, causing the skaven legions to begin disintegrating.
"You are finished, xenos! Hahahaha!"
Haarken's Chaos Space Marines hunted the fleeing rats with sadistic glee, seizing their Warpstone. They discovered that these green xenos crystals were, in fact, solidified Chaos energy of immense purity.
A common Heretic Astartes could consume a single shard to not only bolster his dark blessings but achieve a state of transcendent euphoria. Even Psykers could use the shards as batteries to unleash psychic might far beyond their natural limits.
The Emperor's Children were particularly enamored with the substance. Within the III Legion, Skaven Warpstone was already being hailed as the finest narcotic in the galaxy, surpassing all other addictive stimulants. Unfortunately, no Apothecary had yet succeeded in replicating it.
Chaos Raptors and Heldrakes swooped down upon the routing vermin. The billions-strong skaven swarm teetered on the edge of total collapse, scurrying back toward their tunnels.
Suddenly, several Grey Seers appeared amidst the brownish-grey flood of fleeing rats, mounted upon a Screaming Bell pulled by a team of Rat Ogres. The bell-altar was a rickety construction of salvaged timber, scrap metal, and refuse, yet atop this ramshackle carriage sat a massive bell forged entirely of solid Warpstone.
"That's mine—!"
"MINE!!"
At the sight of such a massive Warpstone artifact, the Chaos Raptors bickered in mid-air like vultures over a carcass, their jump packs flaring as they dove straight for the Great Bell of Doom.
"You... you are no match-equal for the Great Horned Rat, yes-yes!"
The lead Grey Seer, a white-furred skaven clad in tattered, filthy sorcerous robes with two pairs of horns sprouting from his head, snarled at the descending Raptors. As the mouthpieces and priests of the Great Horned Rat, the Grey Seer and Eshin clans were the only two not strictly bound by the jurisdictions of the City of Blight or Skavenblight. Whitesick had initially intended to refuse the Grey Seers' presence, but his defiance vanished the moment they summoned an avatar of the Great Horned Rat, sending him scurrying to his knees in supplication.
"Squeak—Skaven-Scorch!!" The Grey Seer raised his triangular staff, unleashing a bolt of greenish-red lightning and flame. Upon impact, the ceramite plate of the Raptors shattered like brittle wafers, incinerating the traitors instantly.
Watching the blackened ash drift down, the Grey Seer let out a triumphant sneer before kicking his apprentices. "Quick-fast, ring… RING THE BELL!"
"Oh, yes-yes, my despicable master!" the apprentice nodded obsequiously, lashing the Rat Ogre with a whip.
The beast grasped the seemingly frayed rope and hauled on the Warpstone bell. The baleful green bell began to swing, its Warpstone clapper striking the rim with a deafening CLANG-CLANG. Through some arcane resonance, the sound began to ripple outward with unnatural force.
Upon hearing the chimes, the morale of the Skaven was miraculously restored. Facing the Chaos warriors and the still-screaming vox-casters, the skaven turned back with bloodshot eyes and bared fangs.
"Squeak!!" Slave Rats snatched up discarded Warp-pistols and blades, charging back into the fray with the suicidal fervor of the most fanatical martyrs.
"What?!"
Caught off guard, the Chaos Space Marines barely had time to swing their chainswords before being submerged under the verminous tide.
The momentum shifted in an instant. By the time the thirteenth toll echoed, the terror-broadcasts from Haarken's vox-arrays were utterly drowned out. The thirteen tolls reverberated through the very atmosphere of the world. Under the tolling of the bell, every skaven fought with a total disregard for life, reclaiming the Hives from the forces of Chaos.
It was an elemental truth. Even in the world-that-was, Skaven undead controlled by Necromancers would instinctively turn upon their masters to fight for the Horned Rat at the sound of the Great Bell.
"Hahahaha!" A force of ten thousand Clan Rictus Stormvermin stood in awe, escorting the Grey Seer toward Haarken's remaining positions in the Spire.
Seeing the tides turn, Haarken Worldclaimer was consumed by a futile rage. The Warp storms prevented Abaddon from sending reinforcements, and his garrison was hopelessly outnumbered by the rat-swarm.
In a state of deep humiliation, Haarken boarded his craft and fled the planet, a world that had once been a vital lynchpin for the Nachmund Gauntlet. It was now, officially, a world of Clan Rictus.
——————
If you want to read ahead of everyone, go to my pat-reon: pat-re-on.c-om/magnor (remove the hyphen to access normally)