Warning: Contains gore. Welcome to 40k
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The night skies of Nocturne burned red. They always burned, but tonight it was not the glow of volcanoes or the drifting colour of the suns. It was the screams of humans and the laughter of Dark Eldar as the webway portals opened and they spilt out.
Drukhari raiding forces rarely engaged the enemy head-on. Instead, they exploited their speed, agility, and the element of surprise to strike quickly and vanish, gradually wearing down their opponents. This doctrine meant the Drukhari never massed in one location, avoiding situations that could expose them to counterattack.
This also allowed them to attack the foe where he was weakest. During large battles, the Drukhari favoured a style of combat that might be considered a "wave attack." In large war fleets assaulting well-defended targets, the Drukhari organised themselves into successive waves of units with differing tactical capabilities, destroying the enemy in a series of separate but linked assaults.
Each wave targeted a specific type of enemy unit or pursued a specific tactical objective, weakening the foe's defences just in time to face the next Drukhari assault wave. After several such assault waves, the enemy's defences were stripped away until only the weakest units were left to be ripped apart in the final assault. As a result, the Drukhari referred to this combat doctrine as "The Flaying."
By attacking the most dangerous enemy units with the lightning-fast assault only the Drukhari could deliver, they created the opportunity for their other units to move into position and attack the survivors.
.
The attacks happened without warning. Raiders screamed from the portal like razor-edged birds of prey. Anti-grav engines hummed. Bladed prows cut through volcanic ash as the first wave arrived.
At their head stood an Archon, tall and impossibly unelegant, clad in spiked shadowfield armour. In his grasp was a long, serrated Huskblade, its edge humming with malice that spoke of the millions he had flayed and tortured. At his side were Kabalite Trueborn armed with splinter rifles, Shard Carbines and a heavy splinter cannon mounted on the Raider's rail.
Two Reaver jetbike squads shot ahead of the formation, low and impossibly fast for the humans, blade-vanes clipping rooftops and the slower humans as they passed. The Reavers were those Drukhari of Commorragh fascinated by bringing death to others at high speeds. They rode to war upon the most streamlined and pared-down of all Aeldari skycraft, the Aeldari Jetbike, the perfect fusion of motion and lethal power.
Splinter fire rained down. The idea of the first wave was to destroy and pin those enemy troops that posed the gravest threat. On a world like Nocturne, which had never retaliated, this wasn't really necessary, but seeing the large stature of Vulkan, they targeted him mostly.
Crystal shards punched through walls and human flesh alike, toxins paralysing those struck but leaving them alive... for later. The Trueborn targeted the largest defenders first, which stepped into view.
Vulkan stepped into their sights, tall and strong, with two hammers in his hands.
A splinter cannon roared, as if overjoyed that prey had appeared. Hundreds of shards hammered into the Primarch's exposed chest and shoulders, drawing blood. The toxins worked, for a heartbeat, before his Primarch physiology incinerated them. In his veins flowed the lava of Nocturne.
The Archon smiled cruelly.
"Interesting."
The three other Raider squads banked sharply. The Reavers swept low over the settlement, their grav-blades slicing two men in half without slowing, gaining the delicious screams and sprays of blood they desired.
Karesh ran forward, having witnessed two humans being split in two and their innards spraying everywhere, while a pool of blood settled on the ground. Interestingly, he didn't grow afraid or sick. All he got was angry, even more than he had ever experienced. As soon as he had stepped on the battlefield, he experienced a clarity that wasn't affected by his rage.
He could read the flow of battle and deduce the steps to victory, which he could take. But while he had always been stronger than anyone else on Nocturne, he wasn't as strong as an elite-trained Dark Eldar.
Nevertheless, his body suddenly moved slightly to the side, dodging most of a shardcarbine attack. He reacted instinctively, but the limits of his biology were what got him injured still. The shards stitched across his torso, punching holes through muscle. He staggered, but kept moving, ignoring the pain, seizing a fallen smith's hammer. Now he held two in hand.
A Reaver zig-zagged toward him, its blade extended to decapitate him. Karesh ducked at the last possible instant, his instinct screaming a fraction before the strike landed. Once again, he followed his instincts and brought his hammer up in a wild arc and smashed into the bike's side.
The shock of the Dark Eldar flying the jetbike made him turn the controls, and it flipped, skidding across volcanic rock. The rider cartwheeled free and landed on the ground. Karesh was on him instantly.
"RAAAHH!" he shouted as he telegraphed his attack.
The Reaver drew a splinter pistol and fired into Karesh's abdomen. Karesh's instincts told him to dodge, but his mind, which had been enhanced for reasons he hadn't understood, told him the best possible outcome was to ignore the pain and close the distance. Purple crystal tore through him, ripping out flesh and organs, and inflicting the maximum amount of pain. Karesh ignored it and drove the hammer down anyway.
"AHHkkahakakaka—"
The hammer collided with the Drukhari's helmet and rattled him. But he was by no means dead. He brought up his arm, blocked Karesh's second hammer and delivered a series of attacks, using a hidden blade, that severed Karesh's tendons and made him fall to the ground.
"Ahhhhh, how delicious~ Hehehehehehe... oh how—"
Behind him, Vulkan appeared suddenly. His twin hammers struck a Raider mid-speech, and unlike Karesh's attack before, this one turned the body of the Dark Eldar to bloody soup.
"Karesh! Are you alright, brother?" Vulkan asked.
He reached down, but was surprised when Karesh pushed himself up without his help. He saw the expression on Karesh and narrowed his eyes. There he saw the burning rage, like a big fire. He saw Karesh's will to fight and kill those invaders and nodded.
.
They fell from the sky, Scourges. A Scourge was a genetically altered Drukhari mercenary who had wings grafted onto their body and who now served essentially as jump infantry in Drukhari raid forces. These winged silhouettes with barbed feathered pinions descended in disciplined formation. Each carried a Shardcarbine, an advanced variant of the standard Drukhari Splinter Rifle with a much higher rate of fire and a heat lance, weapons designed disintegrate a foe in a blast of atomic fire.
One lance struck a stone tower behind Vulkan; the structure evaporated in a column of superheated air. Another beam hit Karesh square in the chest, which shot him backwards.
For a fraction of a second, there was nothing but white. The blast punched through him. His ribcage vaporised, and his heart exploded. The shouts of Vulkan were drowned by the loud explosions and roaring of Dark Eldar jetbikes. Vulkan chose to attack instead, stopping this as soon as possible.
The mangled body that still remained of Karesh fell backwards, smoke rising from a hole clean through his torso. The Scourge flew away, already seeking new prey and getting interested in the large figure of Vulkan.
From the settlement's shadows, Mandrakes appeared like living shadows. Their eyes were glowing like embers. They moved between flames without problems, seeking enemy infantry who were taking cover from the Scourges, but all they found was the body of Karesh. Sickle-swords slashed throats of those few who had fled for cover.
Karesh lay still, looking dead. A Mandrake crouched over him, tilting its head.
His fingers twitched, his flesh bubbled, and bone regrew. Karesh's organs knitted themselves together with obscene speed. With a surge of energy, Karesh's eyes snapped open. He grabbed the Mandrake's wrist as it brought its blade down, and smashed his hammer into its head.
The foul humanoid creature who was once one of the Drukhari of Commorragh hissed in surprise. But before Karesh could attack once more, a blast of freezing flame enveloped him. These flames wreathed their victims in spectral fires that burn through flesh and soul alike.
"AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!" Karesh screamed in pain, unlike he had ever experienced.
And yet, amid all this, he refused to let go of the arm of the first Mandrake. He tore its arm free at the shoulder, causing black ichor to spray on him and drench the fire. The flames receded, and Karesh rose through the pain, driving the white bone, visible from a broken limb like a spear through the Mandrake's skull.
"KAAaakkkk..." the creature gasped.
Above them, another heat lance fired. The beam scorched past his head, and instead of bisecting him, it cut off half of his right shoulder. But still, Karesh felt something inside him was sharpening.
.
The second portal tore wider.
More Raiders screamed as they arrived, and with them, the third wave of the Flaying. This time, they brought the Wych Cult with them. The Wych Cults or Hekatarii of Commorragh were second in prestige in Drukhari society, only to the kabals that sponsor them. The Drukhari thrived upon expert displays of bloodletting, and in the pursuit of murder, the Wyches were talented Eldar indeed.
The Wyches leapt from the Ravager, a heavy support variant of the Drukhari Raider chassis, in arcs of impossible acrobatics. Hekatarii blades flashed through the air, and Agonisers crackled as they drew blood. Several succubi landed before Vulkan, wielding long glaives.
Hellions swooped overhead on skyboards, tossing plasma grenades on the ground. The Ravager gunship hovered at the rear, its triple disintegrator cannons whining as they charged.
The Ravager fired. Beams of crackling energy tore through stone and flesh alike, detonating in controlled bursts. A shot struck Karesh, the blast flayed skin from his left arm entirely, but he ignored it and charged at the nearest Wych anyway.
The Wych vaulted toward him, twin Hekatarii knives slicing in a flurry meant to sever tendons. She was way faster than Karesh and cut his thigh open, cutting his cheek to the teeth, and pierced his side. All to see him scream in agony and pain. All to satiate their desires, their needs of excess and decadence. All to survive.
But something had changed again for Karesh. He could see it. Not with his eyes alone. But he felt the pattern in her movement, the rhythm of her breath, the micro-shift of her balance before each strike, he saw the way to victory, the way to kill her, and he learned her fighting style... with but a single glance.
He caught her wrist, pulled her down and impaled her with his still regrowing radius bone. Or he attempted to do so. She twisted, impossibly flexible, and drove her Hekatarii knife into his chest. But that was to be expected, after all, he needed a weapon.
Another Wych slashed him with an Agoniser, wrapping around him and the sharp edges torturing him. Neural agony exploded through him, as every nerve was light. But still, he didn't release her wrist. He didn't pull away and instead headbutted her.
Bone cracked, since she didn't have a helmet on. And while she was stronger than he, by far, he ignored his own well-being and used all his power, smashing his brains out in the process. Brainmatter splashed on her, getting her angry, instead of turned on, which it normally should have. But it did get the other Wyches to an emotional peak, though.
The first Wych slashed Karesh's throat.
Blood splashed on her, but the damned mon'keigh just wouldn't stay dead. He attacked her again, biting into her neck as hard as he could.
"AAHHHHH!!" she shrieked in pain as he ripped out a chunk of flesh.
A dozen dark matter particle projection shots riddled Karesh with holes, throwing him back. And even more shots came from the Kabalite Warriors' Splinter Rifles. Amidst the raid, the second Wych, who looked like she had just reached a peak in sexual stimulation watching the exchange, approached the first Wych and cut off her left arm with her blade.
Without caring about the raid as a whole, she started torturing the Wych and drank in her suffering and pain, as she slowly killed her and had her bleed out. Seeing what Karesh had done and his unbothered fighting style, which seemed to seek death, had sent her into an emotional frenzy.
It was for this reason that she didn't bother to check on Karesh. And who could blame her? Surely he was dead, right? But no. The fucker was still alive and stood up again, making sure not to alert the drunken Wych. He suddenly jumped forward and slashed a Glimmersteel Blade through the air, which had fallen on the ground.
"AAAHHHHHHH!!"
Karesh wasn't sure whether this was a moan or a scream in pain. But then again, this was more or less the same with the Dark Eldar. He tore her arm free and used the agoniser, which was still wrapped around his chest, to wrap around her neck and yank her close.
The shock in her eyes lasted until a Hellion drove a hellglaive through her back and through Karesh's abdomen. He had used this to kill her, without caring about his own safety.
Karesh's right half fell to the ground. The Hellion laughed until Karesh grabbed the blade's shaft and pulled himself further onto it, leaving a wave of blood on the ground. He healed as he held on, and the Hellion flew through the air. Finally, after endless struggle, he seized the Hellion's ankle and yanked him from the skyboard, now fully healed.
They crashed together, but Karesh rose first. There was no more skin visible on him. Knives and holes riddled his form, and his face was full of blood and gore. All that looked at the Hellion was the very small area of white in his eyes filled with pure hate.
Karesh drove the glaive through the Hellion's skull.
.
The ground trembled as the final wave arrived. Two full squads of Kabalite Warriors advanced on foot, their splinter rifles firing in seemingly randomised volleys. Two Wych squads followed, and at their centre ran a Beastmaster dragging a pack of Khymerae. Khymerae are Warp-beasts born from the stuff of a Daemon World. They coalesce into vivid nightmares, terrifying long-fanged, many-eyed, sinewy cat-like beasts.
The Archon returned, the ship's shadowfield shimmering to create a fog-like field around the spacecraft, hiding its location and movements. He had a Huskblade raised.
"Enough sport," he declared.
The Kabalites pinned Vulkan in suppressive fire while Wyches darted for weak points. The Ravager turned its cannons on Karesh, who just couldn't catch a break. But as it turned out, he didn't care either way. He ran directly at it, dodging fire left and right, following his instincts and seeing the path to victory clearly.
A disintegrator blast struck him mid-stride, causing his torso to detonate. He collapsed in a ruin of limbs, with a large hole in the middle. His head hit the ground, creating a small 'pyramid' like structure, with his behind on top.
The Beastmaster laughed and loosed the Warp Beasts, giving them more line to attack. They fell upon Karesh's remains, tearing at flesh.
The first beast head was suddenly grabbed, as Karesh's hand erupted upward, stabbing it through its skull. But this was a warp beast, and wouldn't die just like that. Naturally, he was prepared for this. To get close to these two beasts, he had allowed himself to be hit by the disintegrator weapon, and now, he moved.
He forcefully shoved several plasma grenades into the beast's mouth and pulled the plug.
*Boooom*
...
Karesh's body reassembled beneath pieces of flesh and volcanic ground in a grotesque surge of regeneration. As he healed, he felt yet another spike in strength and energy wash through him.
He rose drenched in his own blood and gore, combined with all the other filth he had met today. Something fundamental had changed.
There was no hesitation, no fear whatsoever. Something primal had fully awakened inside him. The warrior had awoken.
He moved like a predator, now. Using the martial arts and movements he had seen the Wyches, Hellions and other Dark Eldar use today. All after seeing it once. He shot forward, far faster than he was before this battle and reached the Khymerae.
He was bitten and clawed at, but didn't care. He brought up a Glimmersteel Blade, stabbing into the beast. He stabbed over and over again, until he could reach into the wound and, using his full strength, tore the Warp Beast in half.
Kabalite Warriors had noticed him and were targeting him. Thankfully, Vulkan had most of the forces' attention. Several shots pierced him, revealing bones and organs, but he didn't care.
Karesh seized a fallen splinter rifle and fired point-blank into a Kabalite's face before snapping the weapon across another's jaw. He had turned into a savage beast. His body functioned on instinct now, and the longer he wasn't evaporated entirely, he would grow stronger.
A Wych leapt forward, Karesh dodged her, grabbed her leg mid-air and used her own momentum to dash her against the Ravager's hull. He fired the Splinter Rifle and shot her for good measure. He felt the need to double-tap.
He climbed the gunship as it lifted off, ignoring splinter rounds shredding his body. He tore open a maintenance seam and plunged inside.
.
What followed was a gruesome and disgustingly messy fight, followed by screams. Karesh threw himself on the first Kabalite Warrior he saw, slashing with his knife and piercing him with the tip of the Splinter Rifle. A Wych had sneaked up on him, and despite his dodging, she cut deep into his stomach.
"Well, well, did you lose something? Hahahaha."
Karesh didn't answer her. He couldn't. Not with blood flooding his throat and his lungs trying to collapse around the holes the splinters had carved through them. He was on one knee, half-blinded by gore, one hand pressed to his belly out of instinct, only to find there was no need to "hold it in" anymore.
His intestines lay in a steaming coil across the deck plating.
The Wych leaned closer, delighted, her head tilted like a connoisseur inspecting a rare vintage. Her Hekatarii blade twirled between her fingers, and she used it to move around the intestines like spaghetti.
"Ahhhh, look at you…" she hummed. "How good you look. I will take you back to Commorragh, and we will have a veeery good time the—"
Karesh lunged forward. He snatched a length of his own stomach and whipped it around her throat in one motion, like a steel cable. It slapped wetly against her skin. His fist closed, twisting and pulling as hard as he could.
The Wych stumbled back, her boots slipping on the pool of blood. He fell on top of her, as she clawed at the improvised rope, trying to hook a finger under the biological cord. Her laughter turned into a strangled hiss as Karesh pulled harder.
The Wych's eyes bulged, pupils dilating in ecstatic terror. The Drukhari loved pain, but usually when it belonged to someone else. That didn't mean that the situation brought her to a peak through sheer ridiculousness.
She slashed down with her Hekatarii blade, trying to sever the cord, but Karesh leaned into it. The knife carved through his forearm, splitting it to the bone. His fingers should have let go, but they didn't.
His will clamped down like a vice. The only goal was to kill this thing before him. He yanked her forward so violently that her head left the ground. Her spine arched, her tongue visible as she gagged.
Karesh smashed his forehead into her face.
Once.
Twice.
On the third impact, her cheekbone collapsed with a wet crunch, her teeth shattering like broken porcelain across the deck. Blood filled her lungs, and she spasmed.
Karesh twisted the entrails one last time and pulled as hard as he could, ignoring the hundreds of stabbings she gave him. Her neck snapped. The cartilage crushed inward, her trachea folded, and blood bubbled from her mouth as her body went limp.
Karesh groaned as he pushed himself off the ground and used the blaster to shoot the controls. The Ravager shuddered and started losing altitude.
A Kabalite stumbled from behind a bulkhead, his helm cracked, and the Splinter Rifle raised. Another followed, hefting a blaster and aiming it at Karesh as they saw him.
He looked terrible, half-dead, disembowelled mon'keigh kneeling in his own filth. They shot anyway.
The Splinter Rifle fired first, a burst stitched through Karesh's ribs. Shards punched into his regenerating flesh. The toxin dissolved his nerves. The blaster followed. But Karesh moved before the trigger was fully pressed.
He lurched sideways, letting the darklight bolt tear a fist-sized chunk from the hull where his skull had been. Karesh fell into the Wych's corpse.
His hand closed around the agoniser, which lay on the ground. He knew how to wield it properly, thanks to his new state of clarity and seeming warrior genius.
The agoniser snapped out and wrapped the Kabalite's rifle arm. The Drukhari jerked back in surprise, then screamed as the weapon's neural spikes poured agony into his every nerve.
Karesh hauled him in as the Dark Eldar's colleague continued to fire. He rose at the same time, with his intestines dragging across the deck grotesquely. He drove the agoniser's handle up under the Kabalite's chin and lifted.
The helm popped loose, revealing a slight gap. Karesh acted like the wild beast he had turned into and bit into the exposed throat.
He tore, causing blood to spray across his face. The Kabalite collapsed, gurgling and clawing at Karesh's face. The blaster-armed warrior took a step forward, closing the distance.
Karesh ripped the Splinter Rifle from the dead Drukhari's hands and fired point-blank, both of them exchanging fire, but only one of them died.
Karesh seized the blaster anyway and turned as the maintenance hatch behind him burst open. The Dark Eldar that was flying was eventually killed by Karesh, and the Ravager fell from the sky in flames, exploding partially as it crashed.
.
On the ground, Vulkan shattered the Archon's shadowfield with a monstrously powerful hammer blow, once again surprising the experienced Drukhari with a new experience. He had never seen or heard of such a warrior. Such strength and power were beyond regular Eldar, probably beyond all Eldar.
The Huskblade slashed Vulkan's side, drawing blood that steamed in the air. Vulkan, unbothered about the small wound, answered by punching forward and crushing the Archon's ribcage inward.
"AHKK..kkkKHH..." he gurgled.
Vulkan exchanged several attacks with the dying Archon, proving just how desperate he was not to die. The fear of dying was far higher among the Eldar than with any other race. And for good reason.
Vulkan held up the Archon with his large hand and squashed his head with a squeeze.
...
The remaining Drukhari faltered. Despite what it seemed like, they were a very tactical group of fighters. Survival was at the front of their mind. So it came as no surprise when the second Beastmaster tried to flee. What did come as a surprise, though, was the broken and beaten form of Karesh that crawled out of the burning wreckage and intercepted him.
The Khymera bit into Karesh's stomach. Karesh grabbed the piece of the Ravager and smashed it into the beast's head, and then crushed the Beastmaster's neck.
Seeing the Archon fall, the few remaining Dark Eldar retreated. But not all of them.
A shadow detached from the retreating Drukhari line, one figure moving against the flow, toward Vulkan, who was the man responsible for making him fail his job.
An Incubus.
He strode like an executioner walking to his block. His armour, an Incubus warsuit, was black as obsidian and faceted like a beetle's carapace, heavy plates layered over a bodysuit that did not hinder his movement at all.
He carried a klaive.
It was a great blade, a powered weapon crafted with such balance that it looked almost weightless in his hands. The edge shimmered as he held it ready to kill and inflict great pain.
Then he moved without warning. A single step, and he became a blur. The klaive slashed toward Vulkan's throat, drawing on centuries of training and experience. But this was a Primarch he was fighting. Vulkan met the Klaive and the Incubus' speed with his hammer.
The Incubus slid back a half-step, absorbing the force with dexterity and use of the force that should not have been possible, but very much was. Then he attacked again.
Vulkan blocked, deflected, and attacked as well. The Incubus wasn't as fast or as strong as the Archon was, but he paid more attention to the Primarch after having seen him kill the Archon. Being 100% focused had its advantages as it turned out.
However, the truth was that Vulkan wasn't focused on the fight at all. His attention was on his brother. Seeing Karesh, who appeared to have been through hell and back, made him worry and fight absentmindedly. And still, he kept up and pressed the Incubus.
Karesh watched the exchange and felt patterns: timing, rhythm, and intention. The fighting style was learned at a single glance, and he read the flow of battle, the steps to victory, the weakness within perfection.
He stepped forward.
Vulkan's head turned a fraction. "Karesh—"
"I know," he replied.
The Incubus noticed him. The Klaive angled toward Karesh with barely any change in motion, as though the Incubus could simply remove him like an insect that bothered him.
Karesh's body responded. His feet shifted, his shoulders lowered, his hands came up. He had nothing in them, but that wasn't necessary. The blade sheared through his left side, cutting deep, deep enough that it almost split him in half.
But Karesh had not stepped in for no reason. He was not a masochist, unlike the Dark Eldar and had a plan. His hands clamped down on the Incubus, catching his forearm and not allowing him to pull back.
"NOW!" Karesh shouted, blood spraying from his mouth.
Vulkan moved with new speed. His giant figure disappeared, and only the shockwave could be felt.
The hammer came down in a perfect arc, not aimed at the klaive, not at the armour plate, but at the Incubus's head. The hammer struck the Incubus's head so hard that the hammer head broke together with the Incubus's head and helmet.