30th Millennium
The Webway, Near the Black Library
Countless theories, assumptions, and outright nonsense had circulated about the Black Library, both among my new kin and among the people of my previous reality.
The truth, however, was far simpler.
The Black Library was an enormous, utterly colossal world-ship.
Compared to it, Craftworlds such as Ulthwé seemed insignificant. This was a gargantuan crystal vessel the size of an entire planet, capable of housing unimaginable numbers of Aeldari. The Harlequins alone used it as a kind of headquarters, while its endless halls safeguarded an equally unimaginable wealth of Aeldari knowledge, preserved since the days of the War in Heaven.
It was hardly surprising that one of the Ruinous Powers desperately sought to sink its claws into this place.
The Black Library resembled a floating iceberg of scorched crystal drifting through one of the greatest arteries of the Webway. Even by Aeldari standards, the colossal vessel defied belief.
Yet more unsettling than its size was the sensation radiating from it.
It was something beyond words, something that resisted every attempt at description.
A presence intertwined with psychic power at its deepest, most fundamental level.
Something...ancient.
A chill crept down my spine.
"Watch the play, young fool."
The impossibly cheerful chorus of every Harlequin present shattered my fascination with the bone-chilling crystal vessel.
For the first time, all three branches of the Laughing God's followers revealed themselves without illusion: the Harlequins, the Death Jesters, and the Shadowseers, the latter serving as powerful psyker-mystics. They stood before me in all the glory of their colorful, extravagant, and utterly inappropriate circus-like attire.
Costumes that seemed to mock the grim darkness of the entire galaxy.
Cegorach had clearly drawn inspiration from Ancient Terra when shaping the appearance and traditions of his followers. Otherwise, I simply couldn't explain why everything looked so strangely familiar to someone born in the twenty-first century.
Blinking slowly, I rolled my shoulders and focused my attention on the troupe.
Then the performance began.
I felt less like a traveler and more like the audience of an elite theater.
Members of the troupe seamlessly assumed the roles of the Old Ones, the Aeldari, their gods, and even Cegorach himself. The role of the Laughing God belonged to the apparent leader of the troupe, while the others shifted effortlessly between characters. There were clearly too few performers to portray every figure individually, yet they changed roles with such impossible grace that I couldn't even be certain it was happening. I merely suspected it.
The masks fascinated me.
They were so expressive they might as well have been living faces, perfectly mirroring every emotion of the characters they portrayed. Their expressions were exaggerated, almost grotesque, much like the masks of ancient human theater.
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Shadows materialized from nowhere as they danced, while impossible patterns of light transformed the stage around them. My eyes refused to look away.
At the same time, they performed acrobatics so impossibly fluid that my head began to spin. More than once, I had to tear myself free from the hypnotic rhythm of their movements. None of it was improvised. Every gesture, every step, every leap had been practiced to absolute perfection.
With every passing second, the spectacle transformed into a structured yet beautiful chaos of colors and shapes, a place where the impossible became possible through the sheer mastery of Cegorach's personal performers.
Their voices carried every imaginable emotion and tone. I could not distinguish them from reality.
Each voice was so natural, so compelling, and so perfectly suited to the character it portrayed that I nearly gaped in astonishment.
The entire production was magnificent.
I did not fully understand everything I witnessed, though it was obvious that the performers poured their very souls into the act.
Perhaps literally.
This was not psychic power in the conventional sense.
It was...
An aspect of divinity.
Like Khaine's wrath, Isha's healing, or Vaul's craftsmanship or the twisted aspects embodied by the Dark Gods. As the performance continued, however, a clear picture gradually emerged.
The Old Ones had created this world-ship, they had created the manuscripts and repositories of knowledge that lined the endless shelves of the Black Library. It did not contain everything known by the creators of the Aeldari, but it preserved enough.
Far more than enough.
The Old Ones had left a legacy to their most intelligent creations. The Laughing God had swiftly claimed that legacy, reorganizing it according to his desires and shamelessly deceiving his fellow gods by concealing this monumental secret.
As it turned out, that deception had been justified.
The knowledge stored here would never fall into the hands of Slaanesh or Chaos.
That alone made any lie worthwhile.
The truth was that the Black Library was, stripped of all grandiosity and mysticism, simply a backup archive.
A contingency plan.
The Old Ones had built it during the darkest period of the War in Heaven, when the conflict against the C'tan and the Necrontyr had reached its peak and the latter had already undergone biotransference, becoming the race of living metal known as the Necrons.
So that was the reality behind the Black Library, not particularly mysterious and not particularly mystical. Unless, of course, Cegorach was messing with me and lying through his teeth.
Which was entirely possible.
"So begins the path toward complete paranoia," I muttered with a snort, deciding not to search for hidden meanings just yet. "After all, I genuinely managed to interest you with this joke. Until the punchline arrives, you won't sacrifice me... right?"
The Harlequins' shifting faces responded with amused smiles as the performance finally ended.
"You understood a lot and were unsurprised by parts of it. As though you already knew these things." The Harlequin who stepped forward spoke in an oddly vague tone.
He was probably the leader, judging by his more elaborate costume and the confidence radiating from his ever-smirking mask.
Such was Aeldari psychotechnology. Even masks could resemble living faces so closely that they transformed their wearers into something almost demonic.
"That's right," I admitted. Deceiving a being hundreds, perhaps thousands of times older than me seemed foolish. "Otherwise, the Great Fool wouldn't have taken an interest in me and sent you, would he?"
"Remarkable youthful audacity," he replied, his grin widening. "And such unwavering confidence that our patron will protect you."
With a handful of graceful, dance-like steps, he crossed the distance between us. Apparently, they could speak normally after all.
Good to know.
Fortunately, my new body's genetics were excellent, and we stood at the same height. The only challenge was suppressing every instinct screaming that I should be much farther away from this fellow Aeldari.
He was far too dangerous.
"As long as I'm a fool, I'll remain under the protection of the greatest entertainer in this galaxy," I replied with a smile and a casual shrug, showing no fear whatsoever.
After all, no one gets killed over a joke. A joke was one of the few things capable of brightening this grim universe and it amused my new patron.
"To think, a little fool has conceived such a great joke! What a delight! What a splendid seasoning for otherwise dull days!"
The troupe leader abruptly shifted into a theatrical rhythm.
"That is why I believe you shall become a worthy addition to our god's troupe, young fool. But first, allow me to send you into the Realm of Chaos. You have yet to undergo rebirth, and until then, you remain a potential threat to our sanctuary."
"No problem at all, Harlequin."
I spread my hands. Before I could do anything else, his finger touched my forehead.
And then...
I fell asleep.
The last thing I heard was the most joyous, unhinged laughter I had ever known, both in my human life and within the inherited memories of my Aeldari body.
Thus Cegorach welcome his newest follower.