Shadow of the Changeling

Chapter 17: Reflections of Chaos

The corridor beyond the shattered gate seemed to stretch into infinity, the walls twisting and writhing as though alive. Kel'Acthar, Elara, and their allies pressed forward, their steps heavy with the oppressive weight of the Warp’s presence. The sickly glow illuminating the walls pulsed in time with a distant, rhythmic thrum, like the heartbeat of something vast and unnatural.

“We’re close,” Elara said, her voice tense. Her psychic senses were aflame, the Warp pressing against her mind with suffocating intensity.

Kel'Acthar sniffed the air, his expression dark. “That smell… blood and fire. It’s like the Warp is spilling into reality.”

The gaunt man glanced nervously at the walls, his voice unsteady. “If the Warp’s leaking through, it means we’re nearing something… powerful.”

Elara stopped, her brow furrowing as her psychic senses picked up something new. “Wait. There’s something ahead—no, someone. Two presences. They feel… familiar, but wrong.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances before moving forward, their weapons drawn. The corridor opened into a massive, circular chamber. The floor was made of jagged stone, and the walls were covered in twisted mirrors, each reflecting distorted images of the group. But it was the figures at the center of the room that stopped them cold.

Standing before them were two figures, their forms bathed in the unnatural glow of the Warp. One was a hulking beast, its body covered in jagged brass armor that glistened as if freshly forged in fire. Its form was vaguely bull-like, its head adorned with massive, curved horns that flared outward like a brazen bull’s. Its snout exhaled plumes of smoke, and molten blood seemed to drip from its hands, pooling at its feet. Despite the grotesque changes, its face still bore a twisted resemblance to Kel’Acthar’s, its glowing red eyes burning with rage.

The other figure was sleek and graceful, draped in silken robes that shimmered like liquid light. Its eyes glowed with a hypnotic, alluring intensity, and its movements were serpentine, exuding an aura of cruel elegance. It bore Elara’s face, but its expression was cold and disdainful, its lips curling into a predatory smile.

“What… the hell is this?” Kel'Acthar growled, his fists clenching.

Elara’s breath caught, her voice barely above a whisper. “They’re us. Or… what we could be.”

The monstrous, bull-like version of Kel'Acthar stepped forward, its voice a deep, guttural growl. “I am what you deny, beastman. I am your rage, your bloodlust, your true self. You fight against your nature, but it is me that keeps you alive.”

The Slaaneshi version of Elara glided forward, its voice smooth and venomous. “And I am the power you suppress, psyker. The ambition, the strength, the freedom you could have if you only embraced the truth. The Warp is not your enemy—it is your salvation.”

Kel'Acthar snarled, stepping forward. “You’re nothing but lies, twisted by the Warp. I’ve fought monsters like you before.”

The Khornate version of him laughed, its deep voice like the grinding of metal. “You call me a monster? Then what does that make you, beastman? You’ve slaughtered without mercy, taken lives with your bare hands. You are me.”

Elara raised her hands, psychic energy flaring around her. “I’ve heard enough. You’re not me. You’re just another trick of the Changeling.”

The Slaaneshi reflection tilted its head, its smile widening. “Oh, but we are no trick. We are the truths you hide from yourselves. And now, we will see which of us is stronger.”

Without warning, the reflections lunged. The Khornate Kel'Acthar charged forward with a bellowing roar, its massive fists slamming into the ground where the real Kel'Acthar had been standing moments before. Kel'Acthar dodged, countering with a powerful strike to its side, but the bull-beast barely flinched.

“You can’t fight me, beastman,” it snarled, steam rising from its nostrils. “I am your strength!”

Meanwhile, the Slaaneshi Elara moved with inhuman grace, its energy shimmering around it as it closed in. Elara unleashed a blast of psychic energy, but the reflection absorbed it with a smirk, its own hands glowing with a sickly light.

“You fight against the inevitable,” it purred, its voice a poisonous whisper. “Why deny the power that could be yours?”

Elara gritted her teeth, pushing back with another surge of psychic energy. “Because it’s not power—it’s corruption.”

Kel'Acthar roared, his fists slamming into his reflection with unrelenting force. Each blow sent shockwaves through the chamber, but the bull-beast kept coming, its laughter echoing in his ears.

“You’re holding back,” it taunted, molten blood dripping from its fists. “You could be so much more. Embrace the rage, the bloodlust. Let go of your humanity—it’s only holding you back!”

But Kel'Acthar growled through gritted teeth. “I’m not like you. I’ve fought for more than just survival—I’ve fought for others. For a cause. That’s what makes me strong.”

With a final, earth-shaking blow, he struck his reflection square in the chest, shattering its molten form into a burst of crimson light. He stood over the dissipating remains, his breath heavy but his resolve unbroken.

Elara, meanwhile, faced her own struggle. The Slaaneshi reflection moved faster than she could track, its energy clashing against hers in a dazzling display of psychic power. Its voice wormed its way into her mind, planting seeds of doubt.

“You could have it all,” it whispered. “Power, freedom, control. You could be more than a tool for the Inquisition—you could rule.”

But Elara pushed back, her voice filled with determination. “And lose myself in the process? Never.”

With a final surge of psychic energy, she unleashed a blast that struck her reflection, its form dissolving into shimmering light. The chamber stilled, the oppressive weight lifting slightly as the reflections faded.

Kel'Acthar and Elara regrouped, their breaths heavy, their bodies battered but unbroken. The rest of the group hurried to their side, their expressions a mix of awe and relief.

“What the hell was that?” the younger man asked, his voice trembling.

Kel'Acthar wiped the blood from his brow, his gaze fixed on the corridor ahead. “The Changeling’s last line of defense. And now it’s gone.”

Elara nodded, her voice steady despite her exhaustion. “But we’re not done yet. The reliquary is close. And so is he.”

With renewed determination, they pressed on, the path ahead dark but their resolve unshaken.