The Hunt for Ahriman campaign concludes tonight! Does that slippery little Exile have one more trick up his sleeve?
Free!
Ahriman fell into a spiralling hell of colour and noise as he fell through the warp rift. For several seconds, neither time nor space had meaning. Everything was mutable - distance, physics, his own identity, the eventual destiny of the galaxy, everything.
But he had been here before. Giving into this malleability would make everything that came before meaningless. A few hastily spoken wards stabilised him as he needed himself, and allowed a moment of reflection.
Merely by having a will to express, he was already shaping the warpstuff around him. Whatever its true form, it was focussing itself into locations, physical places that his mind could understand. Fragments of a broken empire, hanging in space. Much like the reality he knew lay beyond, and also like that, his for the taking. No, that temptation wasn't worth giving in to. He had too much staked in reality. Hurriedly, he moved on.
As he moved, he searched. And before long, he found what he was looking for - a way out. A hanging oval, spinning around a point disconcertingly off-centre, with a hazy vista of broken rock and asphalt barely visible. Whatever benighted planet it was on, it would be safer than here.
Moving towards it, he could hear the hoots and shrieks that justified his haste. He was not alone. Perhaps some of the denizens of the warp would serve him, for a time. But not all would be aligned with his goals, nor his expressed allegiance.
Time to escape.