[Being a study of the
horrendous war between the Old Ones and the Necrontyr]
Tileath leaned back in his seat, looking
around at the other Farseers assembled. "I see no way around our
problem, brother Seers."
"No way we can destroy this abomination?" Yrtesh asked, his eyes
showing great concern.
"No," answered Milan. "There is no way to destroy it.
Meditate on the future. Look at all strands of fate. See where the
destruction of this world leads."
The Farseers, in unison, closed their eyes, focusing on the myriad strands
of fate that wove together and moved apart in seemingly random patterns.
They found the connection of fate lines stemming from the destruction of
the Culexus Temple, and each ran along separate lines of fate from that
point. Each Farseer found himself back with the other Farseers, at a
collection of fate lines that played out the horrible death of Alaitoc,
stemming from the release of massive amounts of null warp.
Yrtesh opened his eyes and looked around as the others came out of their
trance. "So we must carry around this evil until we can find a way to
dispose of it? Keep it from the mon-keigh and the Sleeping Ones?"
Tileath rubbed at his eyes. "Yes."
Kh'man looked up, his wizened face hardly visible through the white hair
that cascaded down around it. "Sleeping no more, friends. They are
awake once more. Do not forget that."
Milan looked down at the floor. "It is ironic that the mon-keigh
would embrace their own doom so easily. Train them, even, to take their
lives in the future. How utterly mindless and barbaric."
"Don't patronize them too much, Milan," Yrtesh said. "They
have not had nearly as much guidance as our own enlightened race. The Old
Ones had precious little time to shape them and their thoughts."
Tileath stood up then, leaning on his staff for support. He felt very
weary. "I can see no way around our fate. We will fight the mon-keigh
and the shining ones for possession of this evil, yet we cannot destroy
it. We must protect it with our lives, make sure it does not fall into the
hands of those who would use it again."
The other Farseers made comments of agreement as, one by one, they stood
and left the chamber. Finally Tileath was left with Kh'man.
"This is not our only concern, Tileath," Kh'man said.
"I know, my old friend. The dark gods are waking up from their
slumber, called into action by their people. The mon-keigh are split in
their worship of their own gods, the warp gods, and the dark gods. There
is a coming conflict we can do nothing to stop. We must hope the
preparation we were given by the Old Ones was enough. If it is not, then I
fear the entire galaxy shall be lost."
Without another word, the two left the room, following the path of the