"You are currently in the Warp, there is no doubt about that."
Rameses looked back at the Farseer.
"And right now, you are property I have captured. I will determine how you are treated based on your level of cooperation."
"."
Indeed, he was truly in the Warp, stripped of his physical body.
However, his Soul had not been consumed. In fact, the overwhelming sense of dread was completely isolated from this place.
The Farseer carefully assessed his condition, even foolishly attempting to use psychic divination to foresee his own state.
Intact.
Completely unscathed.
This was an astonishing conclusion. Had the Farseer not been reasonably confident in his Path, he would have suspected that the Lord of Change was playing a trick on him.
He even felt that if he could just take a trip to Commorragh and have a Hrud craft a body for him, he could be directly resurrected.
Steeling his resolve, the Farseer decided to initiate a minor divination targeting Rameses.
Nothing could be seen.
Every entity within the Galaxy had its threads of fate anchored in the Warp. Even the Ancient Enemies in Tombs were no exception; various Craftworlds frequently used prophecy to locate those Tomb Worlds, dispatching assassins to put those Dynasty Lords to eternal rest.
The Farseer's gaze toward Rameses was now tinged with awe. His previous arrogance toward younger races vanished into thin air.
This being was simply inhuman.
"The Lord of Change?"
The Farseer asked, having already concluded that this person was not a Daemon.
Putting aside whether it was arrogance or confidence, the Farseer believed that, aside from the Daemons of Slaanesh, not even Carlos could stand before him without showing a single flaw.
Even though Arthur had beaten him as easily as slaughtering a chicken, the Farseer had genuinely been caught off guard, completely unable to utilize his full array of skills.
'The Lord of Change is still outside heavily attacking the Enclave. If a Greater Daemon of Tzeentch comes knocking to wipe this place out, you guys will get to see one.'
Rameses silently muttered to himself. He could not be bothered to explain his true identity, deciding to let the other party guess.
"Who I am is not important. What matters is that I need you to serve me."
He declared, "Since I find you somewhat interesting, I can give you a choice. You can refuse, but believe me, the outcome will certainly be the one you least wish to accept."
"Only me?"
The Farseer looked around. The Souls of his comrades remained frozen in place.
He felt that these comrades were indeed real, but he still needed subsequent verification.
"Them as well."
Rameses stated with great generosity.
The population of the Aeldari race was truly quite small. Such a massive fleet, including ground combat personnel, only numbered around ten thousand. Sheltering all of them was not a problem.
"Dark Eldar are a no-go, and a few unlucky bastards are out too."
If they actually got chopped down head-on by his other three companions, they could only be considered unlucky. The abilities of the four of them did not interfere with one another, and Rameses naturally could not quietly snatch people from right under his partners' noses.
Among the Craftworld Eldar, there were at least some decent individuals; even The Emperor was willing to befriend certain beings among them.
But the Dark Eldar were a different story entirely. The only difference between them and the Daemons of Slaanesh was that they technically were not Daemons of Slaanesh. Those things spent their entire lives constantly feeding power to Slaanesh; it would be best if they all died out completely.
"What do you need?"
The Farseer immediately inquired.
"I must say, I prefer the way you look when bravely standing unyielding against Slaanesh."
Rameses chuckled, unable to resist making a teasing remark.
The Farseer did not reply. If a being who was at least a Lesser God was willing to grant them Divine Protection, it would be an honor for their entire race.
Even if this entity had demands, he first needed to see what those demands were.
Seeing this, Rameses simply stopped talking and ceased his teasing.
This sudden shift from arrogance to deference was indeed laughable, but for a qualified Politician capable of leading an entire race, such behavior was exactly what was required.
Dying without falling into the hands of Slaanesh was the best possible outcome. Even with that level of resolve, fear remained a natural response, and he dared not think about anything beyond that.
"I need you, and your people, to share everything belonging to the Aeldari with me."
"Where should we begin?"
A smart man. If he had dared to argue, given Rameses's temper, he would have directly tossed the Farseer to the Daemons of Slaanesh first to be entertained.
If he dared to talk back to his master now, how could he be expected to do any work?
"Start with the Path of the Seer, as well as your Aeldari technological applications."
Rameses swiped at the interface he had asked Romulus to program for him, and a list of metrics was projected right in front of the Farseer.
"The rest of the Aeldari members will do the same. First, share your respective Paths. Then, the technologies each of you have mastered, followed by your culture and history. All the Aeldari who enter this domain will be handed over to you for communication and management. I will issue tasks regularly, and once the quotas are met, you are free to do as you please."
"I understand."
The Farseer nodded in acknowledgment. While marveling at this entity's leniency, he also began to suspiciously guess: 'Does this being not understand psychic power?'
However, recalling the way he had killed his comrades, the Farseer slowly shook his head.
He seemed incredibly knowledgeable about the ways Daemons utilized psychic energy, which proved that the other party had to be an authentic creature of the Warp.
Could it be that he was trying to learn how to apply psychic powers within the material universe?
Why would he learn that?
The Farseer felt deeply bewildered. The Aeldari's psychic application technologies were indeed extraordinary, revered as miracles by countless races in the material universe, but a Warp entity had absolutely no need to care about such things.
With a string of questions intertwining in his mind, the Farseer vaguely guessed something.
But truthfully, he desperately did not want to acknowledge the answer—an answer that made him incredibly jealous just thinking about it.
"Let's leave it at that for now."
Rameses turned his head back.
"Your comrades have arrived. They will clash with the weapons of the barbarians in your eyes, and then march toward destruction."
"...Understood."
The Farseer did not say much more. He had not yet grasped the temperament of this divine being, so he could only reply with words of submission.
"The contract still holds. I grant Divine Protection to your Souls, and you serve me in return. It's that simple."
Seeing this, Rameses said no more. With a flash of his form, his consciousness returned once more to the material universe.
The material universe was still waiting for him to stir up some trouble.
By the time Rameses and Arthur had cleared out an Aeldari vessel, The Dawnlight had already returned to the vicinity of the Mandeville Point.
The fleets of the three factions had also become entirely entangled through their back-and-forth maneuvers.
A few light-seconds away, from within a Webway gate hidden on an asteroid, an Aeldari fleet arranged in combat formation was sailing out.
As the star at the center of the system projected its shining streams of particles, the solar sails refracted the light, bathing these slender, elegant warships in a brilliant sea of radiance.
At the exact same moment, the veil of the Mandeville Point was torn into a Rift by immense energy, and a massive main fleet sailed forth under the leadership of two Gloriana-class battleships.
The Claw of Law quickly intercepted the Aeldari reinforcements with a small detachment. Though seemingly meager, this fleet was a combat group consisting of one Gloriana-class vessel and six battleships, acting as an Insurmountable barrier lying directly across the path of the Aeldari ships.
Meanwhile, the Eternal Crusader led the main force straight toward the Iron Warriors' fleet, their fanatical roars echoing across the Cosmos through Astropathic Communication.
That voice pierced the void's veil, pierced the steel that granted Divine Protection to the traitors, and resonated in the ears of all living beings.
"Iron decays, stone endures!"