"Wait! We can talk properly!"
From within the Blackstone Cage, the Harlequin's voice finally changed its tune.
Zeke couldn't be bothered with this belated request for negotiation, especially after she had just tried to have an "intimate exchange" with him using her weapon.
By stepping into the Nether Portal, he had entered the deathly silence of the Nether.
For the Aeldari Harlequin, this silence was profound.
Leaning against the obsidian wall, she tentatively extended her psychic senses, which she had been suppressing.
The Harlequin hadn't used her psychic powers during the previous battle. Using psychic powers in the material world was tantamount to suicide; it would attract the covetous gaze of the Prince of Pleasure.
But here, it was different.
Nothing!
There was absolutely nothing!
In this space, even Slaanesh's tentacles couldn't reach.
"How is this possible?" the Harlequin murmured to herself.
As an Aeldari, and especially as a Harlequin, she knew better than anyone about the inescapable curse of her race.
For ten thousand years, all of the Aeldari's efforts at concealment were largely to gain a moment's respite from the hunt of that Chaos God.
This dimension, which looked like a burning hellscape, had achieved something even the most powerful Aeldari Craftworlds found difficult to accomplish.
What did this mean?
It meant that if the Aeldari could enter and survive in such a dimension, they might truly be able to escape Slaanesh.
At the very least, they could find a safe sanctuary.
"We can talk! We really can talk! Anything is up for negotiation!"
She was afraid—not of death or imprisonment, but that this singular hope would be completely snuffed out because of her initial foolish probing.
Amidst these extreme emotional fluctuations, she suddenly remembered the Shadowseer's warning before her departure.
Only now did she fully understand what the Seer had meant.
"Damn Shadowseer! It's all your fault for always speaking in riddles and acting mysterious. Would it kill you to speak plainly?"
The Harlequin began to curse, unaware that she herself, and the entire Harlequin troupe, acted the exact same way.
Wait... with so many people in the troupe, why did the Shadowseer send her, the most reckless one?
Was this also within your calculations, Seer?
The Harlequin quieted down. Perhaps waiting was the only thing she could do now.
She didn't know that the time flow in this dimension was vastly different from the material world. This wait was destined to be a long one.
–
Stepping out of the Nether Portal, Zeke returned to Refinery Number Two, which had just undergone a trial by lava.
Zeke temporarily retracted the lava source above the refinery.
As the source disappeared, the lava gradually receded, revealing the scorched, blackened earth.
Apart from the core factory building constructed with special alloys, most other facilities had melted into unrecognizable piles of slag.
It was a gruesome sight.
But Zeke didn't care. All he wanted was the ore inside; everything else was of little use to him.
The storage warehouse of Refinery Number Two was still filled with piles of ore, stacked like mountains.
Years of mining accumulation on this planet had ultimately benefited Zeke.
Mining like this is way faster than digging like an idiot with a pickaxe.
After taking inventory, Zeke's backpack was flush with Lapis Lazuli, Coal, Iron, Gold, and Diamonds. He was no longer short on these basic resources.
Zeke didn't see any Redstone. The "red stone" present in the warehouse was literally just red-colored rock.
These dark red marble slabs were building materials, not the Redstone capable of transmitting signals in Minecraft.
The Warhammer world is huge. I'll find it eventually, Zeke thought.
Now that he had achieved "ore freedom," Zeke finished his inventory check with satisfaction.
He decided to have a discussion with the mechanical Skitarii squad sent by Magos Klein—perhaps give this planet a little "Create Mod" mechanical shock.
Having secured Refinery Number Two, he jumped through the Nether Portal again to Refinery Number One.
Stepping out of the portal at Refinery Number One, Zeke saw Dante squatting alone not far from the entrance.
Dante was an ordinary miner at this refinery, not a technician or specialist—just a regular guy.
He had no common topics with the Cadian soldiers, let alone the Space Wolf Astartes or the Skitarii.
The latter two groups didn't even give him the time of day, tolerating him only because of Zeke.
So, Dante's position in this refinery was very awkward. He often sat alone, dazed and distanced from the groups.
Zeke paused in his stride toward the factory area. After a moment's thought, he turned and walked toward Dante.
"What's wrong, Dante?"
Hearing the voice, Dante jerked his head up like a startled animal.
Seeing it was Zeke, he instinctively straightened his back, just as he used to do for his superiors at the refinery.
"Report. Um... I met my coworker."
Dante's voice was dry, his eyes dodging contact. Zeke waved his hand, signaling him to relax.
Just as Zeke had predicted, a Despoiler Warband had indeed attempted to raid Refinery Number One through the underground man-made tunnels.
The result, naturally, was disastrous for them. They were nearly routed by Zeke's traps.
Combined with Bloodhowl's leadership, they were wiped out without much effort.
Among them, Dante had encountered his coworker. But by then, the man was no longer human; he had chosen corruption.
"Bastard. And to think I kept wanting to save him."
Corrupted? Zeke looked at the Milk in his backpack.
Isn't this a perfect, ready-made subject to test my earlier hypothesis?
"Did Bloodhowl wipe out all the attackers?" Zeke asked probingly.
Dante looked up, shook his head, then nodded. "Most are dead, but my coworker seems to be alive."
Still alive? That was unexpected. Given Bloodhowl's personality, he usually just chopped them down and was done with it.
Zeke went down to the underground tunnels. The battle had ended not long ago, and the tunnels were a mess.
Bloodhowl's forces had mostly sustained only light injuries. Thanks to Zeke's traps, they had achieved an overwhelming victory.
On the field, Zeke saw the coworker Dante had mentioned. His appearance was nauseating.
Large patches of pustules covered his body, and several wounds were rolled outward with slowly wriggling granulation tissue. One side of his cheek had even sprouted a small cluster of fleshy growths.
His eyes were cloudy and yellowed, bereft of much sanity.
A Cadian soldier was aiming a lasgun at his forehead, finger on the trigger.
From the whispers of nearby soldiers, Zeke learned why the coworker had only just been captured.
Faced with Bloodhowl's overwhelming assault, he had decisively sold out his teammates.
He had dived headfirst into the man-made tunnels, trying to flee. The Cadian soldiers had a hard time catching him.
Everyone knew that Dante had been searching for his coworker these past few days.
So, the soldiers didn't kill him immediately. They brought him to Dante for a final look, to give him closure before the execution.
Now, they were preparing to carry out the sentence.
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