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Senior commanders and high-ranking officials of the expeditionary force assembled within the strategic sanctum of the Emperor's Grand Design.
The vast chamber humd with the weight of impending judgnt.
Auxiliary army generals bearing the scars of countless campaigns, fleet commanders whose vessels had conquered star systems, Knight-Nobles of the Imperial Houses, veteran Princeps of the God-Machines, and diplomatic envoys from newly compliant worlds all took their designated positions around the central command dais according to strict Imperial hierarchy.
Seated at the fore were the Emperor and several supre commanders of the expeditionary force, their presence radiating absolute authority.
The Primarchs occupied positions in the secondary tier, their gene-enhanced fras still learning the nuances of command.
They remained students of warfare, not yet deed qualified to operate with complete independence.
Once all personnel had assembled according to protocol, the Emperor commanded that the received transmission be displayed for assembly review.
The harmonic resonance of projection machinery filled the chamber as slender beams of coherent light pierced the recycled atmosphere.
The luminous streams intertwined with sacred precision, outlining a sphere of pure radiance that expanded within the chamber's heart.
Cascading torrents of data-code and nurical sequences flowed like a digital tide across the sphere's surface.
The holographic construct unfurled with chanical reverence, transforming into a massive display screen suspended within the sanctified air.
The screen flickered with interference patterns, the transmitted image dim and corrupted by astropathic degradation.
Occasionally, hurried breathing and desperate footfalls echoed through the audio feed, as though soone had activated a recording device while fleeing in terror.
In the distance, the piercing shriek of las-weapons discharge cut through corrupted acoustics, intermingled with various human voices raised in desperation and defiance.
"Advance quickly, maintain formation."
"First squad holds position, intercept the enemy advance."
"Please, do not abandon here."
"For the Emperor! For the Imperium of Man!"
"Humanity shall endure!"
"They approach, we have nowhere left to retreat."
The sound of footsteps gradually diminished as those recorded either remained behind to delay the enemy's advance, purchasing precious ti with their lives, or scattered in tactical dispersal.
Eventually, only the person maintaining the recording remained alive.
The survivor fled into a communications chamber equipped with astropathic relay systems, imdiately sealing the reinforced blast doors behind them.
The resonant grinding of chanical gear-trains echoed through the transmission as the massive barrier descended and locked into position with Imperial finality.
The recorder located a control console and positioned the device upon its blessed surface with trembling hands.
A male face bearing standard chanicus augtics appeared before the recording apparatus.
The man displayed obvious signs of extre distress, his body trembling from terror and physical exertion combined.
He straightened his posture and arranged his appearance with military discipline despite his circumstances.
Facing the recording device directly, he perford the sacred Aquila salute with practiced precision.
"Loyalty unto the Emperor. Loyalty unto humanity eternal."
"This transmission docunts a massacre and war unleashed upon Imperial citizens."
"The enemy claims origin from the cursed realm of Commorragh, declaring us their chosen prey for this hunt."
"Imperial soldiers resisted with honor and courage, yet proved inadequate against their xenos capabilities.
They suffered horrific slaughter, their blessed remains subjected to desecrations that defy the Emperor's rcy."
"Their thods exemplify cruelty beyond mortal comprehension, twisted murderers drunk upon suffering itself."
At that mont, the distinctive sound of rending adamantine echoed through the chamber as the enemies beyond attempted to force entry through the sealed portal.
The man turned toward the blast doors, his voice filled with mounting terror despite his attempts at Imperial discipline.
"They have located my position. They approach with malicious intent."
He withdrew a standard-issue laspistol and checked its power cell with chanical precision born of military training.
"I may represent the final surviving soul aboard the Star of Hope. Our battle group has collapsed entirely, transford into prey for xenos predators."
"Intelligence indicates several vessels escaped into the outer system, perhaps survivors yet endure among the void."
"Whichever Imperial fleet receives this transmission, I beseech you by the Emperor's grace, co to rescue those survivors, or bring righteous judgnt unto the madness of these Xeno's."
BOOM!
A thunderous detonation erupted through the transmission. The reinforced blast doors were forcibly breached by alien technology.
Several towering, unnaturally slender Eldar warriors entered the chamber with predatory grace.
They wore form-fitting black armor crafted from unknown materials, crimson cloaks flowing behind them like spilled blood, wielding wickedly curved blades that seed to hunger for mortal flesh.
Even through the degraded recording dium, the assembled Imperial commanders could perceive the bloodlust and sadistic cruelty radiating from these xenos abominations.
"Die, xeno filth!" The man suppressed his terror and discharged his weapon at the Dark Eldar intruders.
Yet their inhuman speed defied comprehension. Streams of crimson laser energy, brilliant as rubies, cut through the stale air but found no targets; each shot evaded with supernatural agility.
Eerie laughter echoed through the confined space as the Dark Eldar warriors mocked the humans' futile resistance with genuine amusent.
SWISH!
The cold whisper of alien steel sang through the dim chamber.
The man's weapon hand was severed in a single, precise cut, arterial spray painting the bulkheads as both dismbered limb and laspistol clattered to the deck plating.
Agony forced a wail of anguish from his throat before the Dark Eldar seized him with deliberate care.
The final segnt of the transmission beca increasingly corrupted and intermittent, flickering between individual fras of horror.
The loyal servant of the Emperor suffered vicious tornt as his flesh was thodically flayed from living bone.
His skinless, blood-slicked form was bound with barbed chains of alien manufacture and suspended inverted like a grotesque trophy.
The Dark Eldar regarded him as a plaything, tornting him with the most malicious thods conceivable to their twisted minds.
The recording began to accelerate as temporal compression activated, yet the man's screams echoed throughout the extended ordeal without respite.
Several hours later, according to the chronoter readings, the man's voice finally ceased, his tornted soul released unto the Emperor's rcy through death's embrace.
The transmission ended abruptly, the screen fading to absolute darkness.
Such cruel atrocities caused visible shock and righteous anger among all personnel present at the strategic assembly.
Curze displayed a complex and unfathomable expression as he processed the scenes of systematic torture.
Witnessing such bloody and thodical cruelty provided him deeper understanding of fear's applications as both weapon and tool.
The screen was deactivated with ceremonial solemnity.
"This constitutes the final intelligence we received from Battle Group Thirty-One."
The Information Supervisor approached the projection dais, a heavily augnted figure whose fra bore extensive tallic prosthetics.
His bulky physique supported several servo-skulls that floated in synchronized patterns behind him, their eye-lenses glowing with data-streams.
The projection screen illuminated once more, transforming into a comprehensive galactic strategic display showing surrounding star systems.
"The transmission originated from the Antimone System, classified as a standard single-star configuration."
"During humanity's Golden Age, it served as a major interstellar trade nexus with prosperous comrcial activities spanning multiple sectors."
"After the Age of Strife descended upon our galaxy, the Antimone System was contested by nurous factions and transford into a wasteland of competing interests."
"However, according to intelligence previously provided by Battle Group Thirty-One, substantial human populations continue struggling for survival within the devastated system."
"Battle Group Thirty-One was likely attacked by Dark Eldar raiding forces while attempting to reclaim the Antimone System for Imperial compliance."
"Survivors may remain trapped within the system, unable to transmit distress signals through conventional astropathic ans. No additional ergency communications have been received thus far."
The Information Supervisor provided detailed intelligence briefings regarding the Antimone System's strategic significance to all assembly mbers.
After ensuring complete comprehension among the gathered commanders, the Emperor stepped forward with divine purpose.
He required no amplification devices to project His voice to the most distant corners of the vast chamber, ensuring every soul present heard His words with crystal clarity.
When He spoke, absolute silence reigned throughout the assembly.
"Such cris against humanity cannot be tolerated under any circumstances. Regardless of enemy identity or their perceived power, any who view humanity as prey, as targets for casual slaughter, must face inevitable retribution."
"The Expeditionary Fleet shall abandon its current operational paraters and proceed imdiately to the Antimone System to rescue survivors and purge the Dark Eldar presence entirely."
"Terra shall also draft new legislation to classify the Dark Eldar as one of humanity's primary enemies, requiring complete annihilation."
"In this galaxy, no xenos race that threatens human existence shall be permitted to continue. If such entities persist, they shall be reduced to ash within the fires of righteous war."
"Return to your units and prepare for imdiate combat deploynt." The Emperor raised His fist in declaration of war.
"We shall make them pay in blood for their cris."
The assembled crowd displayed fervent devotion and barely restrained bloodlust.
When the Emperor raised His fist and proclaid vengeance, they responded by raising their arms in unison, demanding that the enemy pay the ultimate price in blood and suffering.
The Primarchs displayed excitent and anticipation befitting their warrior nature. The fighting spirit burning within their eyes transford into literal flas of purpose.
Lion El'Jonson and Horus t each other's gaze, both displaying competitive determination.
They prepared to outperform their brother in the coming battle, proving their worthiness as First Son through deed and valor.
The Raven, perched upon the Emperor's broad shoulder, also raised its voice in excited proclamation.
"Kill! Kill! Kill! Slice! Dice! Destroy! Let us invade Commorragh itself, butcher those Dark Eldar with appropriate implents, and exile them to frozen worlds for agricultural labor!"
"Golden One, we must deploy Curze as the vanguard of this assault."
"We must demonstrate to those Dark Eldar the true aning of fear."
"Night Haunter, you must make those Kabalite Warriors weep like gretchin whose extremities have been crushed."
The Emperor: "..."
Constantin Valdor: "..."
What manner of war cry was that? Why did it feel sowhat... inappropriate for the gravity of the situation?
Curze appeared equally speechless at the Raven's enthusiastic proclamation.
This creature truly understood the concept of appropriate retaliation, an eye for an eye, terror for terror.
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