The Story has officially reached 100k words. Thank You for your support everyone. Enjoy.
Cassian moved through the city with purpose, but not confidence. Every step was measured and cautious. The silence here wasn't just absence of sound — it was oppressive. Like the city was waiting for something. Or someone. He glanced ahead. Faeveleth moved like a shadow, slipping through the ruins with uncanny grace. Her presence was reassuring, but also unsettling. She belonged in this place more than he did.
Time had lost meaning. Minutes stretched into hours. Or maybe it was the other way around. The sky hadn't changed since they'd arrived — a swirl of violet clouds casting everything in a twisted, sickly glow. Even the sound, when it came, was wrong. The distant hum of something immense and buried deep beneath them — it vibrated in his bones, like a warning.
The streets narrowed as they walked, the buildings becoming stranger, more alien. Once-familiar architecture now slouched and twisted in ways that defied reason. Cassian passed statues worn down to grotesque lumps by time or madness. A toppled column oozed a slick, black film that shimmered in the corner of his eye. He didn't stop to look closer.
Deeper into the city, reality began to fray. The streets bent in directions that felt impossible. A building on his right blinked out of existence when he turned his head. He breathed in sharply, grounding himself. No time to panic.
They emerged into a collapsed courtyard, wide and broken, littered with rusting metal and shattered statues. Cassian's boots crunched over old bones. He slowed as he spotted something beneath the dust — fragments of blue-painted ceramite.
"Imperial Guard," he muttered, brushing off the grit. The armor was cracked and warped, like it had been melted and frozen again.
Faeveleth crouched beside him, her gaze unreadable. "They died here."
"You've seen this before?"
She hesitated. Her voice was lower when she answered. "This city isn't just cursed. It's wounded. And it bleeds still."
Cassian's skin crawled. "So what killed them?"
She didn't answer.
And they kept moving.
Soon the ground beneath them became oily, the stone slick with something he didn't dare name. Every surface pulsed faintly, as if it shared one heartbeat — slow and deep, echoing through his boots.
Then he heard something.
A whisper.
He froze. "Did you hear that?"
Faeveleth didn't stop walking. "Hear what?"
Cassian strained to listen, but the whisper had vanished — or melted into the air.
They turned a corner and found a chasm. It split the street like a wound. Cassian leaned over the edge. The bottom was darkness. Not shadow — darkness, alive and pulsing. The edge throbbed faintly.
"Warp energy," Faeveleth said quietly.
"Fantastic."
They skirted the edge carefully. That's when Cassian saw them — shapes in the gloom, tall and wrong. At first it looked like one figure. Then he saw more. Dozens. Standing still. Watching.
His hand drifted toward his pistol. "What are they?."
Faeveleth's body tensed. "They won't move. Not yet."
"What do you mean, 'not yet'?"
She didn't reply.
The city closed in around them. Every step felt like walking deeper into a nightmare. The whispering came and went, It was maddening. Cassian felt his thoughts fray at the edges. The buildings leaned over him like giants with bad intentions.
Finally, Faeveleth stopped at the entrance of a crumbling ruin. "We rest here."
Cassian raised a brow. "Here? Really?"
She crouched against a cracked wall and closed her eyes. Like that was the end of the conversation. Cassian took the opposite side, his armour buzzing as he sat.
---
They rested in the shadows of a crumbling wall, the darkness pressing close. Cassian adjusted his stance, back against the cold stone, eyes scanning the ruins. Faeveleth sat across from him, legs folded beneath her, her expression unreadable. The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable.
Cassian shifted, the weight of his armor pressing down on him. He risked a glance at the Aeldari. She sat unnaturally still, her gaze distant. He hated the quiet. It made the whispers louder.
After a long moment, he spoke. "You are not like xenos I had in mind."
Faeveleth scoffed. "Yes, the propaganda your government forces into your mind. To make you more obedient."
Cassian met her gaze. "Maybe, but every exaggeration has a kernel of truth in it."
She smirked. "You monkeys are in quadrillions, spread across the galaxy. You multiply like rabbits. While the fertility of our people is like one birth in hundred years. So tell me Mon-Keigh why should we not preserve my people. If it takes a bit trickery then so be it."
Cassian looked at her calmly. "There will never be trust between us with you talking like that."
Faeveleth stared at him intensely. "I don't need your trust Mon-Keigh. I only need your obedience".
They sat in silence after that, the weight of the city pressing down on them. Cassian stared into the darkness, feeling more alone than ever. The whispers drifted through the ruins, quiet and persistent.
Somehow, they felt louder now.
---
The air shifted.
Cassian felt it — a prickling sensation at the nape of his neck, crawling down his spine like ice-cold fingers. The shadows lengthened unnaturally, swallowing what little light remained in the twisted streets. The wind, ever-present in the ruins, stilled. In the sudden hush, the silence pressed against his ears, deafening.
Somewhere in the distance, a faint keening sound drifted through the air — high and thin, barely audible.
Faeveleth's head snapped up, her body tensing like a coiled spring. "Hide," she whispered, sharp and urgent.
Cassian dropped into a crouch, slipping behind the crumbling remnants of a stone wall. Faeveleth vanished into the shadows across from him, her movements fluid and silent. He pressed his back against the cold stone, heart hammering in his chest. The silence thickened, heavy and oppressive.
A ripple of wrongness swept through the streets, and the sky darkened unnaturally. Warpfire flickered above, dancing in oily tendrils across the heavens. The shadows twisted and writhed, no longer content to remain still. The very air grew thick, cloying, pressing against his skin, his mind. Cassian gritted his teeth, trying to steady his breathing.
"Planetary Warpstorms," Faeveleth whispered from the darkness. "Stay still. Do not speak."
The weight of the air grew heavier, more suffocating. It pressed down on him, squeezing his lungs, making every breath feel like a struggle. Then came the whispers.
Soft at first, like the rustling of dry leaves, they slithered into his thoughts. His pulse quickened. The words were faint, almost indistinguishable, but they gnawed at the edges of his mind.
Power…
Freedom…
Knowledge…
Cassian squeezed his eyes shut. No. Not again.
The whispers grew louder, each word like a needle driven into his skull. He gasped, pressing a hand to his head, but the voices didn't stop. They slid deeper, wrapping around his thoughts like smoke, probing, searching, promising.
I can make you stronger…
I can give you what you seek…
Just open yourself to me…
No.
Then he felt a presence.
It slithered across his mind, cold and oily, like a serpent coiling around his thoughts. It pushed against his defenses, testing, looking for cracks. Cassian gritted his teeth, trying to shove it away, but it pressed harder, writhing against his mind. His breathing quickened.
"Fool," Faeveleth hissed, barely audible. "You're attracting it. Your mind is wide open."
"I'm trying!" Cassian rasped, sweat trickling down his temple. "It's… it's too strong."
"Because you're weak." Her voice was sharp, cutting through the fog in his mind. "Listen to me. It's drawn to power. To you. If you don't quiet your mind, it will find us."
Cassian bit back a curse, eyes darting through the shadows. He could feel it now — the thing. It drifted through the ruins, drawn by the psychic tremors rippling through the air. His chest heaved, panic clawing at his throat. "What do I do?"
Her eyes glimmered faintly in the dark. "The technique I taught you. Reinforce the walls of your mind. Do it now, or I will kill you. I do not need a liability."
Cassian squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus. The memory came slowly — her lessons, brief but sharp, drilling into his mind like a blade. The mind was a fortress. Walls of thought. Towers of will. Doors that must remain shut.
He imagined those walls now. Stone and iron, heavy and unyielding. The whispers battered against them like waves against rock. Cassian pushed back, forcing them away. The darkness pressed closer, heavy and suffocating, but he held firm.
"Good," Faeveleth whispered. "Stronger."
The presence pushed harder, writhing against his mind, desperate to slip through the cracks. His head throbbed, pain lancing behind his eyes, but Cassian shoved back with everything he had. The walls stood.
And then, it was gone.
The air shifted. The pressure lifted. The whispers faded, leaving only silence.
Cassian slumped against the wall, gasping for breath. His head pounded, his limbs trembling with exhaustion. Faeveleth watched him from the shadows, her expression unreadable.
"Barely adequate," she said, her tone as cold as ever.
Cassian let out a deep breath. "Thanks."
Her gaze flicked toward the darkness beyond the ruins. "The daemon is gone. For now." She looked back at him, eyes narrowing. "Next time, if you fail, I'll kill you myself before it can take you."
Cassian met her gaze, chest still heaving. "Noted."
They sat in silence after that, the storm raging above, the shadows pressing close.
And Cassian stared into the darkness, lost in his thoughts.
—
Cassian leaned his head back against the cold wall, eyelids fluttering shut for a heartbeat. The strain of holding back the daemon's presence had left a lingering ache behind his eyes. He didn't speak. Didn't move. Just breathed — shallow and uneven. The air still reeked of metal and rot, but now there was something else beneath it. Burnt ozone. The scent of warp residue.
Across from him, Faeveleth sat like a statue. Only her eyes moved, scanning the area beyond their ruin. She hadn't drawn a weapon. She didn't need to.
"How often does that happen here?" he asked after a while, voice hoarse.
"Often enough that I sleep with one eye open," she said, without looking at him. "But not always so… focused."
"You think it wanted me?"
"I don't think," she said flatly. "I know."
He swallowed dryly. "That's… comforting."
"You have no idea what kind of mark you carry," she continued, quieter now.
He looked at her, frowning. "So what now? We just sit here and wait for another daemon to show up and flirt with my brain?"
Faeveleth actually laughed. A short, bitter thing. "You wish that's all they'd do."
Cassian shifted, uneasy. The humor had vanished as quickly as it came, leaving behind only the cold.
She stood then, slow and graceful. Brushed dust from her robes. Her hand hovered near her belt, "We keep moving. This place doesn't tolerate stillness for long."
Cassian stood with a groan. "Because it attracts attention?"
"No," she said, already slipping toward the doorway. "Because the city begins to change when you linger. And not in ways you'll survive."
That sent a shiver down his spine. He gave one last glance to the ruin — cracked walls, a fire-scorched ceiling, some half-melted bones strewn across the floor. And a faint smear of blood where his head had struck the stone.
Not a safe haven. Just a pause between nightmares.
He followed after.
—
He just stared into the abyss. You? You can just click the power stone button and pretend you helped.
For more advanced chapters
patreon.com/Kratos5627