In response, she shot me an equally patronizing look.
As if to say, What do you know about food, Knowing Jester?
Shaking my head, I decided to put an ancient saying into practice.
When I eat, I am deaf and mute.
Thanks to that principle, and my companion's usual silence, we made short work of everything we had ordered. Once we finished, we left the restaurant without lingering, eager to continue what had undeniably become our date.
One of the planet's great cities was vast enough to house millions of people, and despite our pace, exploring it still consumed long, leisurely hours.
Naturally, the moment dusk began settling over the city, we ran into trouble.
This was Warhammer, after all.
Trouble was practically the foundation upon which the entire galaxy had been built.
"We have company." I spoke quietly, unconsciously resting a hand on the fusion pistol concealed beneath my clothing.
My companion looked in the same direction.
There, among the lengthening shadows, another shadow waited.
Without wasting a second, we turned and headed the opposite way.
The ambush was so obvious it might as well have come with a written invitation.
As we moved, we dropped our disguises.
The moment the last human disappeared into the maze of streets belonging to a city that fell just short of being a true hive, though still colossal enough to rival old Moscow, our camouflage dissolved.
Where two humans clad in local clothing had stood only moments before, two Aeldari now walked in exactly the same garments.
Without hesitation, I tossed the concealed psychic sword hidden beneath my robes to Killing Mockery. Unlike me, she had no practical way to hide such a weapon on her smaller frame. Even beneath a disguise, it would have been impossible to conceal.
Our would-be ambushers wasted no time.
Almost immediately, our keen hearing picked up the rapid pounding of approaching footsteps.
Running.
Without overthinking it, I considered the universe I lived in and concluded there was a ninety percent chance the newcomer was hostile.
Another Harlequin would have approached very differently.
The instant a shadow rounded the corner, I fired several shots from my fusion pistol.
Red beams tore through the darkness, bathing the alleyway in flashes of scarlet light.
"Aeldari... As expected. Tch..."
A woman's voice answered, accompanied by an irritated click of her tongue.
A massive yellow energy blade flared to life, intercepting every shot without suffering so much as a scratch.
Remarkably, that wasn't what stunned me.
For the first time in all the years since my reincarnation...
For the first time since arriving in this universe...
I heard familiar words.
In the thirtieth millennium.
An age in which every language I had once known should have vanished into history.
My companion, however, remained thoroughly unimpressed by linguistic miracles.
She attacked immediately.
Her psychic blade flashed toward the wielder of the enormous energy sword, allowing me my first clear look at our opponent.
A strikingly beautiful blonde with long flowing hair and a rather... striking outfit.
Before my eyes, she calmly deflected every thrust and slash from Killing Mockery using a second weapon, a slimmer and significantly faster blade. The clash of psychic weapons filled the alley with ringing impacts and tangible vibrations.
It wasn't that I enjoyed shooting beautiful women.
But this was Warhammer.
Survival imposed certain obligations.
So I unleashed another volley while simultaneously executing standard evasive maneuvers.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Specifically, the ones designed for combat while operating with a damaged grav-belt.
The enormous sword proved to be an exceptionally effective shield, protecting its owner from every shot.
At the same time, it intercepted several particularly dangerous strikes from my companion.
Soon enough, Killing Mockery and I exchanged a glance.
The message was obvious.
Without our full equipment, we weren't accomplishing anything here.
So we resorted to the technique every servant of the Laughing God had mastered to perfection.
Yes.
That technique.
The One Hundred and First Method.
We pinned our opponent down with another barrage of fusion fire while Killing Mockery forced her into an awkward defensive position through a relentless flurry of attacks.
Then...
We ran.
Thanks to the phenomenal agility of the Aeldari, we vanished almost instantly.
At that moment we probably resembled insane parkour enthusiasts from some ancient action movie, vaulting over obstacles, leaping from piles of debris, and occasionally using them to propel ourselves even faster.
"Stop right there, you damn little elves!"
The irritated female roar rang out once more.
To our surprise, however, it came not from behind us...
But directly ahead.
A human woman stepped through a circular yellow portal, appearing squarely in our path.
I barely avoided the sweeping strike of her massive sword, bending backward at an angle no ordinary human body should ever have been capable of achieving.
Meanwhile, Killing Mockery intercepted the attack from the woman's other hand, their psychic blades colliding in another vibrating chorus of steel and energy.
"Who are you?" I demanded in High Gothic.
Learning the language had been mandatory for every Harlequin.
Cegorach clearly knew about the Emperor and understood that the species ruled by such a being would inevitably become a major player upon the galactic stage.
"Finally."
She snorted loudly, switching to High Gothic without hesitation.
"You've stopped shooting and swinging weapons long enough to think."
Even while speaking, she effortlessly parried every strike from Killing Mockery, much to my companion's growing irritation.
Recognizing that diplomacy had finally begun, and that I had naturally assumed responsibility for it, the Harlequin lowered her offensive and settled into a guarded stance.
"But you still haven't answered my question."
I kept the woman squarely in my sights while studying every subtle movement she made.
Definitely a psyker.
Yet there was something else about her...
"Knowing a few things about your Harlequin customs," she said, "you may call me Daemon Slayer. I've butchered enough of those things to earn the title."
With casual ease, she rested the gigantic weapon across one shoulder.
"But your race somehow decided to create even more of them."
She sighed.
"Originally, I intended to pay one of your Craftworlds a visit and beat the answers out of someone. Since we've met here instead, tell me one thing." She fixed me with an irritated stare. "What in the Warp did you idiots do to create another Chaos God?"
"Oh, that?"
I chuckled, meeting the permanently annoyed gaze of her blue eyes.
"Nothing much. We spent ten thousand years having sex and drowning ourselves in narcotics out of sheer boredom."
I shrugged.
"Then... bang. The embodiment of Pleasure appeared naturally."
I spread my hands.
"These things happen."
"They happen?" She stared. "They happen?!"
For a moment, she looked genuinely dumbfounded.
Then she frowned.
Almost immediately afterward, her expression smoothed itself out again.
An impressively quick emotional recovery.
"Right." She sighed. "Harlequins. Black humor falls under your jurisdiction."
"At least it wasn't intentional." She shook her head. "Otherwise I'd have had to start a xenocide."
"I rather doubt our kin planned on being devoured by the newborn She Who Thirsts."
I shrugged.
"Speaking of introductions, I'm Knowing Jester." I gestured toward myself before indicating my companion. "This is Killing Mockery."
Then another thought occurred to me.
"...Do you actually possess the means to carry out a xenocide?"
The question earned me a distinctly strange look from my companion.
Judging by her expression, she seemed to be thinking, Do you honestly believe she's going to answer that?
"Myself?"
The woman replied immediately, completely shattering Killing Mockery's expectations.
"I just happen to know about five star systems where fully operational Mechnivores are still sleeping."
She shrugged as casually as if discussing tomorrow's weather.
"And... I know how to lure them somewhere else. That's all."
Now it was my turn to stare.
I was fairly certain my expression looked exactly like hers had thirty seconds earlier.
"Right..."
Rubbing my temples with my free hand, I looked at her carefully.
"Just to clarify. We're talking about those Mechnivores? The giant mechanical worms capable of eating entire continents...and planets?"
"The very same."
The blonde shrugged again.
"Humanity built plenty of them during the Federation. Most eventually destroyed one another, but a few examples remain."
She smiled faintly.
"And they aren't the only relics left over from my race's golden age."
"If I remember correctly, there are still quite a few interesting toys lying around..."
"Riiight..."
I exchanged a glance with Killing Mockery, who had lowered her blade as well.
"May I assume you're... one of the Perpetuals?"
"Someone who witnessed the Human Federation firsthand?"
"Tch." The woman clicked her tongue irritably. "Looks like you dug up that information too."
She folded her arms.
"Which idiot ended up falling into the hands of your... colleagues?"
"No idea."
I answered with a mysterious smile.
"But the Black Library possesses many forms of knowledge. Great knowledge and small."
Judging by the way the blue-eyed blonde rolled her eyes, it was exactly the sort of cryptic answer she had expected.
Oddly enough...
Meeting someone's expectations felt surprisingly satisfying.
Particularly when they belonged to a beautiful woman.
"I could try extracting information from you," she mused, scuffing the toe of her boot against the ground, "but making an enemy of an entire Aeldari god for no reason doesn't sound particularly appealing."
She snorted.
"As they used to say back home...You want it, but it hurts. Besides..."
She sighed.
"In the end, we share the same enemy now. The Immaterium."
"Fine."
She waved a hand dismissively.
"Live, little elves. And tell your god that if he ever needs help dealing with daemons...we can work together."
"Adiós."
She sheathed the smaller sword at her waist, offered a casual two-finger salute, and disappeared into a portal that opened beneath her feet.
"So much for a date..."
I sighed, desperately trying to remember whether anyone like her existed anywhere in Warhammer canon.
Nothing came to mind.
Not even the faintest hint.
Still, that meant very little.
Warhammer probably held the record for the largest number of named characters who had somehow become historically significant.
Remembering all of them was physically impossible.
Regardless...
We needed to report this encounter to Cegorach.
Let divine management deal with the headache.
We were just the employees.
Exchanging one last glance with Killing Mockery, we nodded in mutual agreement.
Then, restoring our disguises, we made our way back toward the Webway portal at an unhurried pace.