Well, there's time enough for love. But right now, there's vengeance to be had first.

I flick the Atmospheric Incendiary torpedo into the Webway, and monitor it as the C'tan pilots it to its final destination. Much easier to do than last time, because I have grown a bit more and I have this Enslaver staff to lean on.

Time in the Webway doesn't pass normally, or perhaps at all. It is a very strange environment as kilometer wide tunnels twist and circle around for no reason. Well, perhaps they bend around gravity wells like stars and blackholes, which makes some sense.

Or perhaps it's simply an aesthetic choice from the Aeldari Gods who built it.

Hordes of alien creatures battle inside, Eldar and Drukhari among them, but hundreds of different species too. The Webway seems to be a final refuge for many species thought extinct, and for many others interested in trade or warfare and plunder.

Zarhulash coasts above an entire Maiden World, and keeps going. Dark suns illuminate the paths inside the tunnels, half-way outside reality completely.

I think I heard of such a Dark Sun making appearances in the Calixis Sector, driving people mad for weeks then vanishing again. Humans call it the Tyrant_Star and believe it brings some kind of prophecy.

Well, I'm almost certain I know someone who collects rare items.

If the Dark Eldar can play with this kind of forces...or perhaps is that Harlequin God, called Cegorach. He would be the type to torment people for no reason, just to have a laugh.

Then the torpedo emerges above Port Carmine, where there are thousands of Eldar ships gathered for some big raid. I even see a few spiky capital vessels like the Falling Moon Class Battleship which gets hit directly.

Their defensive shadowfield isn't of use against a physical torpedo, and the surprise is total.

The explosion ruptures something important inside the battleship, because while a burning atmosphere is rather lethal for any lifeform, including durable ones like Tyranids and Dark Eldar, that antimatter fuel is even worse.

Zarhulash's mind stays to observe the genocide, for a few seconds, before snapping back into the coffin of living-rock chains that bind his flesh to Sotha.

"And that was Port Carmine! I counted 2 billion deaths for this strike, Pef Lancefire. Even a couple of their Archons. They appeared to prepare for a punishment raid, you were quite fortunate to intercept that large fleet at anchor." the C'tan explains proudly.

"What do you mean, Mighty Zarhulash? The Drukhari had gathered right now to be exterminated by my punishment raid? Don't be preposterous!" I decline in a dismissive voice.

The C'tan blinks in confusion, then looks away in defeat.

That's right, you evil godling! You met my luck perk now, how do you like that!

My legs wobble a little from the effort, so no more Exterminatus for some time. Maybe tomorrow.

I send my escorts away back on the Serenity, and return to my Rogue Trader persona.

"Lord Trazyn? Any luck with my item?" I ask in a pleasant voice.

"It was much easier than it seemed, stranger in my head. Luckily, the Crimson King was suffering from an immense headache, almost like someone had tried to snap the control binder over this C'tan shard with brute force. The Crimson King even passed the control scarab to an underling, so he could rest. I only had to ask for the shard-box back, and the idiot lich gave it to me!" the Overlord proclaimed in self-praise.

Well, a silly Rogue Trader had something to do with that too, I suspect. Who else tried the brute force approach and failed miserably?

Trazyn the Infinite holds the third tesseract in his hand, beside a strange chip or circuit, definitely of Mechanicus origin.

"Now, the story of that Psi-titan is sad indeed. Even worse, only someone with access to deep time investigation could recover it, and that with great care. Want to learn more? I would need to be well and not detonate under subversion." I ask teasingly.

The Necron Lord suspects a trap, so he hesitates. I know he trapped that C'tan somehow, because it is his nature. Or perhaps a mind-virus inside the memory device. Maybe both?

"How did you know?" Trazyn asks after a minute of silence.

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"My abilities are different, but they lead to the same future, Lord Trazyn. We either work together...or we both die. And if we die...well. That would be rather bad. You should disable the traps, and prepare a minor gift for me. Perhaps that chronoblade and the Custodes. Afterwards, I will give you an interesting problem to solve, if you are able. It might lead to another C'tan." I offer as an equitable trade.

"Tell me of this problem first, while I work to remake the labyrinth and the console." my murderous friend accepts in a pitiful tone.

"Imagine someone had ten thousand Astartes in a labyrinth, but he's not a Necron Lord so no mind scarabs. He does have Enslaver bones, which should allow mind-controlling even an Astartes, if carefully crafted empathic overrides are inserted into their brains. Or perhaps an Ork Boss, leading a big Waagh of billions. Even Tyranid bioships..." I propose in a cheerful voice.

I do have all that, and more.

"You have been busy, stranger. Well, finding test subjects will not be difficult at all. But different Astartes Chapters have different physiology, just like Tyranid swarms differ from Hive to Hive. I know, because even my advanced scarabs need adjustment."Trazyn explains in a thoughtful voice.

"Also, there are some artifacts called Halo_Devices. Very hard to find, and completely forbidden in the Imperium. Forge World Stragos experimented with them, and found they grant eternal life and restoration of the body. Perhaps an intact device can be found on Sinophia Magna, and then reverse engineered, for Necrons and humans too. However, exposure over a few hours is...unhealthy." I add to reduce his obvious enthusiasm.

"Most intriguing. I'd assume the origin is the Halo Stars that you researched a few years ago?" the Necron asks in a knowing voice.

Well, it seems he has eidetic memory, which I also have due to my implants.

"I am a well of knowledge, aren't I? So...my Crimson God?" I demand pleasantly.

The Pharos doesn't reach on the other side of the galaxy, but why expose my weakness?

With a pained sigh, Trazyn the Infinite places the crystal and the memory node on his green coffin which serves as a work desk.

A tiny swirl of space from the Pharos and the artifacts appear in my blackstone lined glove. Unlimited power, achieved!

A quick glance at the Necron Tomb of Drazak finds it deeply embroiled in a desperate battle. Tyranid organisms have already landed on the surface and began devouring anything moving. Must have been hungry, the poor creatures.

In the system, there are a dozen Necron Battleships and a hundred smaller vessels firing continuously at an unending stream of bioships and smaller flyers.

They are still holding, but this last tendril from Hive Fleet Kraken is absorbing other smaller fleets like a river receives tributaries.

Soon enough, it will be over. I strain myself and flick a Nova mine among the Necron escorts to hasten their demise.

Perhaps two dozen of the Necron frigates are caught in the blast area, and the Tyranids exploit the weakness grabbing the crippled ships and eating them with gigantic mandibles.

I am too tired to send more right now, plus I only have one Nova mine left. But there's no rush, I have all the time in the world.

Checking on Trazyn again, I find him holding the Dawn Blade in front of him, in a curious stance. Almost like he tried to divine a purpose for this weapon.

Then he lets it go, and the chronophagic blade disappears in mid-air, and lands in my right hand.

Another relic obtained! Sooner or later I will fight someone in melee, and extra years will be useful. Plus there are always traitors and cultists or even Orks. I have a billion Orks in my left glove, and a life-draining sword in my right.

The future is dark, but I will probably see it now.

I point at the imprisoned C'tan. "This Crimson God, was he a friend of yours?"

"Never! We battled for eons, beyond the stars. We shouldn't have come to this horrible place." he says in a sad voice.

I know buddy. This is a grim dark future, and there is only war.

"Keep silent about me. If the Inquisitor asks, say it must be some kind of automatic defense, interacting with the Tyranid Silence. Chronal turbulence or something." I add as I step on the teleporter.

The Sounding Board folds back in the good tesseract, and so does my bone staff. I'll need to ask the Forge Master to craft me another slot for the next crystal. Soon, I will have an Infinity Gauntlet holding my tesseracts, like in those comics.

I can only hope it will be enough.