The Universe is a vast expanse of insanity, especially for the inhabitants of the 42nd Millennium.

War, death, turmoil and fear are standard in the lives of everyone in the Galaxy of War.

To the Eldar, it has become a disparate norm of living in these millions of years since the War in Heaven left its scars on the Galaxy. Stuck on their living Arks, the Craftworlds, the Eldar face almost daily extinction and are surrounded on all sides by enemies. One such Craftworld was Ilroh'ynn. A small warrior Craftworld, much smaller in size compared to other Eldar craftworlds.

It was generally an agrarian world that provided food to its sister-Craftowrlds, such as Biel-Tan. They relied more on their Aspect Warriors rather than vehicles. What was more numerous, however, was its defense fleet...

Its story was one of evasion of combat or standing ground until they could escape into a corridor in the Webway. Not in their last engagement... As a Human planet, known as Cadia, was cracked in half and the Eye of Terror belched out the stuff of the Warp, the ship was caught with all inhabitants and its defense fleet in a warp storm of unimaginable proportions...

Our story will follow their return to realspace, in a new War and with possible new alliances...

Unknown Star System. M42, Y000.

Aboard Craftworld Ilroh'ynn.

Wherein the Darkness of the Warp had overtaken them, Farseer Faenbryn's migraine seemed to have vanished just as fast as it arrived... Standing to her feet sluggishly, she barked out "Status! Give me a status on the Craftworld!" and took to leaning on her Singing Spear. Her eyes swept one of the many rooms of the Infinity Circuit, to see the Warlocks and Bonesingers manning their positions, still on their feet, though the former still staggered. Her form was clad in the white and silver robes and armor and colors familiar to the Craftworlders...

"All systems are nominal... Surprisingly enough." An elder Warlock reported, eyes on his console. "And no Daemonic incursions."

Faen sighed in relief. That much went well for them... "Status on the Support Fleet?"

"All vessels accounted for. Two suffered minor damage in a collision with each-other. Shadow-class Cruisers." The Warlock once again reported... Faen gave a once-over of the section of the Infinity Circuit they were in. The Soulstones of thousands of their dead pulsed an eerie blue through the veins on the floor of the semi-organic vessel, while above, the ceilings had the faint protrusions of thick tree roots...

"Thank Isha..." Faen muttered to herself, sighing in relief. She looked up, straightening her posture and asked "Sensor report... Where are we?"

"Unknown." A Warlock answered.

"Impossible... Scan again." She ordered. The Craftworld shuddered under their feet and made the Farseer stumble. She went to the Warlock's console, to look over the data streaming in, then stopped as visuals came through from the outer hull of the Craftworld... At least thirteen strange vessels were on approach to them. And they were not of Imperial, nor other designs known to them. They were also seemingly powering weapons...

Faen growled "They fired upon us once. Shields held?"

"Best as they could. Enemy is firing directed energy at us. They refuse to answer hails." The Warlock once again answered. "Fleet Admiral Benelim is requesting permission to engage with three Cruisers and his Battleship."

"They aren't answering hails. They fired first. The Admiral may engage at will. Meanwhile, I want every sensor we have figuring out where we are and preparing a course through the Webway out of..." She paused, noticing a planet under attack by hundreds of similar warships, resembling more organic, deep-sea creatures than the hulls of anyone known to them. And a small picket fleet was trying to hold them off, with no avail.

The Warlock turned to the Farseer, then said "Perhaps they confused us with reinforcements for their foes... May I suggest a tactical withdrawal through the webway after we deal with the enemy vessels?"

"... I highly doubt they could've confused us. Take a look at the ships they're sinking..." Faen tapped the display on the console and it zoomed in. The ships under attack, unlike the smooth, animal-like forms of those that fired at them, were symmetrical, metallic, jet-black and geometrically designed with several angles. Their weapons were projectile based and chemical-propelled rounds... The Farseer sighed, looking around, then ordered "Keep the Craftworld behind with 10 vessels to protect it. I want the rest of our fleet to engage and support the planetary defenses..."

"The Enemy of our Enemy, Farseer...?" The Warlock spoke calmly, but Faen could feel the grin of her old friend behind the mask. She nodded.

"I'll take a squad of Avengers and one of Banshees with me to the ground. Maybe get some answers out of the people we're about to help as thanks." She answered. "Tell the Council to expect my return within the day. I'll announce any change of plans through communications." and with that, she stepped off... A short walk through the corridors of the Craftworld later and the thrumming of their weapons slamming against enemy vessels, the Farseer found herself within the Webway Matrix's room with her chosen escort. A dozen of the Aspect Warrior Path's best among her forces...

"What do we expect to find down there, Farseer?" Inquired the Banshee Exarch, her blade in its sheath...

"To put it bluntly, Mon'Keigh throwing rocks at possibly more advanced foes..." The Farseer noted, an itching feeling coming to her that the warships she saw were, perhaps... Somewhat known to her and her people. The Exarch snorted, then nodded. She had her hair caught at the top of her head in a tuft, sticking out of what would be her helmet, had she put it on. Her teal eyes glanced around the bay and her blood-red lips formed into a tiny, almost imperceptible grin. Her cheeks bore the lotus symbol of their Craftworld.

Without another word, the squadron felt the rush of the Webway-based teleporter sending them down to the surface of the planet. And as the first to step out of the light, the Farseer went bug-eyed, her mouth agape, at the sight. A city of glass and metal, burning. Rubble littering the streets. The corpses of... Humans... On the floor, flesh marked by the burn of Plasma...

And the most alien-looking monsters since the Tyranids sitting in front of them. A hunchback creature, clad in blue armor, with three-jointed legs and hooves instead of feet, stood before her, its four-fingered right hand clasping an even more alien design that emitted the quiet hum of an energy weapon. It cocked its lizard-like head toward them, slit pupils locking onto the Farseer... And the small, taut, stumpy-legged creatures wearing methane tanks that were near it turned too...

The alien's four jaws split. It roared, swiveling about and raising its Plasma weapon. The Farseer scowled, taking a battle-stance with her Singing Spear and saying "CEASE! Who are you!? Why are you attacking us!?"

It didn't even bother to answer, letting its Plasma weapon do the talking. The Farseer ducked under the first, fist-sized blue projectile of superheated gas and launched herself forward... The tip of her Singing Spear thrust into the Alien's chest, boiling through what felt like a layer of invisible armor, before punching through the sternum and cauterizing the wound. The creature fell afterward, limp...

And the smaller ones started skittering away, dropping the smaller plasma pistols and crying in fear. The hiss of Shuriken rounds cutting through the dense, smoke-filled air came to her. The heated projectiles slammed into the backs of the retreating creatures, making them collapse to the floor. One of the methane tanks detonated in a weak, green explosion, from one of the Shurikens...

The Farseer's ears perked up. She leaned to the right, holding onto her singing spear as a lance of lilac energy hit the ground behind her. Turning back, she cried out "SNIPER!" before raising her personal shield as another shot came in. The beam was redirected into the ground by the Psychic shield and the Farseer saw how pin-point accurate it was. She ran into cover behind some rubble herself, noticing a fallen Human Soldier, one wearing a strange battle uniform resembling that of their own Mon'Keigh Guardsmen. A neat, cauterized hole was drilled into his skull, right between his eyes.

... And he held a long-range projectile weapon in his hands. It was undamaged.

"Farseer! Are you well!?" Cried out the Exarch of the Avengers from across the street.

"I am well, Taevel! Exarch Caentys, are you still with us!?" The Farseer returned, looking back.

"I live yet, Farseer!" The Swordswoman chuckled "Little Mon'Keigh clipped my armor, though! The rounds can punch through our Wraithbone armor if focused enough!"

"Stay in cover then, Sister! See anything that could help us take the creature down, Farseer!?" Taevel yelled in inquiry, peeking out and firing a wave of Shurikens in the general direction of the creature while his Avengers stood guard. The Farseer once again eyed the weapon of the dead Human, giving it a quick once-over. She had no idea how these weapons worked and was unsure if he wanted to wield it...

"I've found a dead human where I've taken cover! He seems to have some sort of long-range projectile weapon!" She responded promptly, grabbing the weapon by the barrel and showing it to the Avengers. The Exarch shrugged, then nodded... She wanted to send it over to him, but before she could, she grabbed a rock off the ground, one of a decent size, and hurled it... The response shot came immediately as the little piece of debris was melted by a direct beam of energy.

"That's our best bet at taking it out! Farseer, how good a shot are you?" Taevel inquired, letting loose another stream of Shurikens.

"Decent at best!" She said. "This is a human weapon, Taevel! I'm not even certain how it works!"

"Their designs are similar to ours! Trigger is to fire!" Taevel snarked.

"Oh, ha ha! I didn't know you could kid in times such as these, Exarch!" She returned, gritting her teeth. She shouldered the rifle, before settling it on the broken wall she was behind and looking down the holographic, camera-like scope of the weapon. She scanned the broken buildings at the end of the boulevard they were on... A beam of energy slammed into the wall behind her, forcing her to take cover. She growled, then said "I need someone to spot it for me!"

"I'll keep my eyes on it!" Caen responded, peeking out of cover.

The Farseer turned and aimed again. A shot burnt the tip of her hair. She ducked.

"Building on the right, third window from the right, fifth floor!" Caen reported... And the Farseer aimed. She saw it in the line of the scope. A bird-like, hunchback thing, with spikes instead of a mane of hair, big, bulging eyes and a long, beak-like snout. It had a metal plate with targeting assistance systems on its right eye... She snapped off a shot as the reticule of her rifle turned red, but found it poorly calibrated, as the shot went wide to the right, punching through the wall on the creature's side and spooking it...

It started dashing to another window and before Faen got a good bead on it, it shot again, hitting the wall on her left. She tried to keep the rifle trained onto the bastard. Shooting again, the round went wide to the right once more. And, as the avian enemy repositioned, Faen noticed she was down to two rounds...

"Khaine damn it..." Taevel growled "The weapon is poorly sighted, Farseer!"

"I can do this, Taevel..." She muttered. "Hopefully. If not, all of you move through the alleys!"

She eyed the target again, trying to properly zero in the sniper on it. The human weapon was heavy, unwieldy and bore a lot of recoil from the projectile's fuel. But it had the punch to go through the walls of those buildings. Her finger twitched around the trigger as she locked onto the monster once more and... Fired... The round went wide again, but it still hit closer by a few inches to the target...

The response shot came immediately... The energy shot slammed into the comically-large camera-scope, cracking the glass. It cut the side of the Farseer's face... She hid behind cover and Taevel cried out "Farseer!" before looking to his squad and yelling "Faenbryn's been hit! Cover me!"

"Stay there!" The farseer ordered, standing back up and feeling her wound... It burned and itched, but no blood seeped out. She barked out "I've got only one more shot! Afterward, we scramble!"

The woman stood up, shouldering the rifle. She knew it went wide, high and to the right, so instead of aiming right at the creature... She aimed at a bit of cover in front of it and prayed... Breathing in, then out, then in again, then out again. The Farseer tried to steady her speeding heart... If she missed here, they had to risk approaching the Sniper and whatever allies it may have had around the rubble. And that could mean deaths...

So, as her heartbeat slowed, the Farseer looked down the broken scope. The spiderweb crack in the glass still allowed her a line of sight, though poor, on the enemy Sniper. Taking another deep breath, she waited for that precious moment between heartbeats and... Squeezed. Her eyes went wide as she heard her gunshot echo... And she saw it went wide again... But the creature's head was split wide open...

Voices came to her as she focused...

"Target down!"

"Got the little fucker! Nice shot, Hitchcock!"

"Watch it! I got another platoon of Aliens! They don't look Covenant!"

She cocked her head back and heard Taevel call out "Good aim, Farseer! Khaine blessed it!"

"That was not my bullet, Taevel..." She muttered, standing up and watching as, from behind the rubble, a squad of soldiers in similar battle attire to the dead man beside her appeared. They had projectile weapons trained on the group of Eldar present... Well, three of them did. The others were wounded, barely standing or hauling their dead. The fourth man, one of the wounded, but that could still haul a weapon, pushed down the rifle of one of the soldiers.

"Fucking easy on the trigger, Hotshot!" He ordered, then turned to the Eldar, an eye covered by a bandage and a strange, rear-loaded rifle in hand. He jumped down from the mound of rubble they were on and approached the Eldar. Taevel and his men raised their Shuriken Rifles and Caen appeared too, her sword drawn. Her sisters were in much the same position, except with Shuriken Pistols aimed and primed as well.

The Rifleman raised his hand, keeping the other near to his Side-arm and said "Easy does it there, folks..." calmly, before noticing the Helmetless farseer and muttering "Oh, my God, Space Elves..." before clearing his throat and calling out "Wait, wait, wait! We don't mean ya any harm! We just heard shooting and thought we found our lost Sniper!" before his gaze shifted to the left of the Eldar, or his right, and he saw the collapsed, dead man... Pursing his lips, he said "You found him like that, I hope?"

The Farseer stepped up beside Taevel and pushed his Shuriken rifle down, before saying in clear-cut English "We did... The alien sniper took him out."

"..." The man in the lead had to take a moment to register an Alien speaking English, before nodding "Alright... Alright... Covies gave you a warm greeting, then?"

"Who are these 'Covies' you keep mentioning, Human?" The Farseer inquired... The guy tilted his head toward the others... And Faen nodded, ordering to her soldiers "Weapons down! We've no reason to shoot each-other yet!" and approaching the man in the lead. He was about as tall as her, with an eye colored brown and black hair underneath his combat helmet.

Sighing in relief, the man lowered his hand and spoke "Phew. Thanks."

"Where are we?" She asked promptly.

"... Straight to the point, then..." He hummed, then nodded "You're on Miridem. Human Colony World currently under attack. And the Covenant? They're a bunch of interstellar assholes looking to cleanse humanity from the face of the Galaxy."

"Sounds familiar." Caen quipped, approaching the side of the Farseer and speaking "Farseer, the Aliens we've killed. They all wield Plasma weaponry. Focused enough to melt through our armors in a few shots."

"And they have Energy Shielding." Taevel added. "I've found an emitter in the armor of the one with the split mandibles."

The Human Infantryman looked past them, to see the corpses of a dozen Grunts and a dead Elite, his chest cut open. He whistled, then said "Damn... Took out a whole Platoon of Grunts. And their Elite." before looking to the Farseer and introducing himself "I'm Sergeant Michael Reaver, UNSC Marines. Though my pals just call me Mike." with a smile as he extended his hand.

The Farseer looked at his hand, then said "I'm Farseer Faenbryn, of the Craftworld Ilroh'ynn. Our people have engaged this 'Covenant'. What did you do to provoke their incursion with such hostility?"

"Us? Lady, what the fuck are you on about?" Another Marine, a wounded one, barked angrily.

"Private Golovkin, calm down." Sergeant Reaver ordered. He looked to the Farseer and said with as straight a face as he could've put on "19 years ago, the Covenant appeared over one of our colonies, Harvest, and mercilessly murdered everyone on it by orbital bombardment. Without warning, without answer as to why and without desire to engage in any kind of diplomatic discourse. They've declared some kinda crusade against us because they apparently consider us an affront to their gods. We've been trying to stave off absolute slaughter since then... So if we 'provoked' them" He made air quotations sarcastically "As you think we did, Farseer, the assholes haven't been very cooperative in teaching us why."

"Aliens on a crusade against what they consider blasphemy to their gods..." Caen snorted "And against Humans of all things, Farseer. Universal poetic justice, I would call it."

"Caen." The Farseer warned, looking back to her friend.

"Hey, listen here, Samurai Gal." The Sergeant growled "We ain't done fuck-all to the Covies is what I'm trying to say. I don't know what twisted world you come from where we did the same shit to whomever, but right here? It's fucking survival. And you're stuck with us in it..." before he gripped his rifle and warned "Unless you're planning to join the Covenant in the little extermination party..."

The Farseer felt the air grow heavy and could hear the thoughts of each individual soldier... And each touched their weapons...

"That's enough." Faen warned, trying to be the voice of reason "We're not here to trigger a second front for you, Human. We were here to get some answers to our questions... It is clear we no longer are within our own realm of space or time, simply going by your armaments and..." She took a moment, closing her eyes and trying to feel the Warp... She felt echoes... But as she attempted to tap into the local area of the Warp for the writing nightmares that it usually presented, the Farseer found naught but calmness. A Realm of Souls devoid of corruption... And her eyes went wide...

"... The Warp. It is calm." She voiced.

"What?!" Caen bellowed, looking to her "Farseer, you cannot be-"

"I am... The Warp here is a calm sea, not the tidal wave of corruption we left in our own realm. I... I don't know where we are. But it is definitely not our Galaxy. Not our Milky Way. Perhaps not our Universe!" She stated... What had the Warp done to them? What had happened to the Webway. "And... How did we get sent here? There are no Webway gates, not as far as I can feel."

"SARGE! WE'VE GOT INCOMING COVIES!" A Marine warned, breaking the Eldar's trail of thought...

The Farseer and her retinue turned about, to notice five more squadrons of the squat aliens and the hunchbacks, followed by a hovering armored vehicle... A boulder of plasma screamed through the air. And half of the Marine platoon vanished into the blue blaze upon the weapon striking ground. Those who could've taken cover did as superheated fragments of concrete flew through the air.

Plasma rained down upon the positions of the Marines and Eldar. Rounds heated Wraithbone as they struck, but the Eldar found their cover. The Farseer, Sergeant and Banshees took cover together, behind a collapsed apartment block and the Marine racked the bolt of his rifle. He stood up and emptied his magazine, screaming bloody murder at them, before the Farseer grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the wall. She barked at him "CALM YOURSELF, HUMAN! Do you desire death!?"

"The fuckers just killed TEN of my men!" He bellowed, trying to free himself from the Eldar's grip. She looked him in the eyes...

"And you'll join them if you don't calm down!" She stated. "Taevel! Do you have Melta Grenades!?"

"Only three on my personage, Farseer! The rest have naught but one each!" The Aspect Warrior answered, firing from his Shuriken rifle, alongside a Marine's own Sniper. Another boulder of Plasma struck a building just in front of the Farseer and her squads, shattering glass and boiling away concrete and steel. Hot shards rained down upon them, but the Farseer's shield kept them away from her face...

"My Psychic powers still work, as far as I can tell! Cover me!" She bellowed.

Taevel nodded, then called out "AVENGERS! KHAINE WILL GUIDE OUR SHOTS! BLAST THESE MON'KEIGH APART! FIRE!"

A dozen Avengers stood up, their Shuriken Rifles and other varying Shuriken-based weapons screaming in unison as they unleashed a wave of projectiles into the alien lines. Shields shimmered and vanished under the whittling attack. Three of the alien Elites collapsed, filled full of eviscerating fury, whilst their tiny compatriots/slaves died much more easily.

"Psychic powers?!" The Marine Sergeant called "Lady, you must be some kinda insane!"

"Quiet." She hushed him, closing her eyes... "... Let the mists of Space and Time clear from my mind..."

The Marine watched as energy weaved into the gauntlets of her armor, into the scarlet gems... He muttered "No fucking way..." with eyes wide... He stood up and called out "GIVE OUR RESIDENT PSYCHIC SOME COVER, BOYS! FIRE AT WILL!" before raking the Covie lines with rifle fire, with the return being Plasma and Needler Shards flying past his head...

Another oversized plasma round landed, this one too close for comfort.

"FARSEER!" The Sergeant called out, reloading his rifle. "ANY TIME!"

"Do not rush me..." She hummed as she felt the pure, unbridled power of the Realm of Souls course through her veins. It felt much, much stronger than the energy that she would usually tap into from the Warp

Another round from the enemy hovertank's artillery piece blasted the ground next to them, raining melted concrete and shards of still-hot glass. A Marine's soul entered the Realm as the Farseer heard one of them die, having taken a Plasma round to the chest. An Avenger followed him, collapsing as a whittling barrage of Plasma focused solely on him, to the point his Wraithbone armor melted and began to meld with him...

And another... This one mere inches away. She felt the heat of the Plasma prickle at her skin... Her ears twitched and she muttered "Isha, guide my hand..." before her eyes, now alight with Psychic energy, opened. Standing to her feet, she cried to the Covenant "FEEL THE WRATH OF THE ELDAR!" before her hand shot forward... And several bolts of lightning left her fingertips, cutting right through the armored alloy of the Hover Tank. One bolt punched clean through, reaching into what stood for the engine, tearing it apart at a molecular level...

The vehicle exploded into shards of alloy that rained into the Covenant's back, bursting shields, disabling or outright killing the enemy units. The Farseer felt her power expend, falling to one knee and holding onto her singing spear... She called out "Caen! GO!" and heard it... Blades drawn from scabbards hissed as they powered and the psychic enhancers on the front of their helmets' masks let loose a deafening, blood-curdling scream as they charged forward. Marines covered their ears as they heard the screams and the Sergeant, though now nursing a migraine, watched as the Howling Banshees charged at the stunned and very disoriented Covenant forces...

What ensued next was a slaughter, as the powered blades of the Eldar's Aspect Warriors danced, rending the flesh of the Covenant's Elites before they could recover from the daze. The Grunts, small creatures, died with the blades stuck down their throats or cut in half by the brutally efficient Eldar warriors... And what remained afterward was a line of corpses on the broken road...

The Farseer panted, slowly staggering to her feet and leaning against the wall, before muttering "That took more out of me than I expected..."

"Hey." The Marine Sergeant stepped up in front of her, grinning "You alright there? Quite the lightshow you put up. Hell, I'm pretty sure that was some kinda magic you shot out there..."

He seemed in disbelief, just from the eyes... That or shock.

"I am well..." She panted "Just in need of rest."

"Well, you just saved our collective Bacon..." The Sergeant nodded "Thanks..."

The Farseer nodded, then started hearing a few more, faint thoughts of innocent souls. She looked back and the voices became clearer... The voices of mothers, fathers and their children... She pursed her lips, then said "You never mentioned there were families you were protecting." leaning herself against the wall further. Mike nodded, then slung his rifle onto his back.

"Ya never asked." He smirked. "I'll round up what's left of my team..."

Faen nodded... She watched her Banshee Exarch return, different-colored blood staining her blades. She nodded to the Farseer, before stepping in-line with the Avengers and her team. There was a lot to answer, but for now, she'd have to rest before any further movement was done. She sighed, then looked up above. Past the blue sky and atmosphere, she could faintly make out their Pulse Lances and weapons slamming against the enemy fleet's own shields... And those few ships that the Humans had left. The tide turning must've been an amazing sight for the Humans aboard the Human ships...

... And a nightmare for the Covenant. An endearing thought for Farseer Faen, nonetheless...