Felix Jaeger was running for his life.
An entire formation of Skaven elites—black-furred, clad in black armor, as tall and broad as men—Stormvermin—were in pursuit.
He cursed himself for ever tailing that cloaked ratman he had seen emerging onto the surface.
By doing so, he had become the first witness to the Skaven's full assault on Nuln.
And that first witness had been unable to warn anyone.
Because the moment a single Skaven dared to stride openly out of the sewers, it meant that at least a dozen more had already surfaced elsewhere in the city.
Their numbers were growing exponentially.
Behind him, Felix heard the chittering war cries of the Skaven—and the screams of those less fortunate, who had failed to escape in time.
He risked a glance over his shoulder.
The ratmen were slaughtering indiscriminately.
No soldiers stood to oppose them.
Not one.
The city's troops were all stationed in the palace district, guarding the Countess and her noble guests.
Before the Skaven launched their grand assault, strange occurrences had plagued the city—disturbances in the sewers, and a Black Plague sweeping through the streets.
The nobles had paid no heed to the suffering of commoners.
Even now, a lavish masquerade ball was underway in the palace.
Felix darted into a dead-end alley, vaulted over a low obstruction, and squeezed into a narrow passage.
He had nearly shaken his pursuers.
Unlike the Stormvermin, he did not wear heavy armor. And the Skaven had been slowed by the unarmed citizens they butchered along the way.
He knew he would not have escaped so easily without those unfortunate souls.
He had a plan.
He had to warn his companion—Gotrek Gurnisson—and the other mercenaries.
All he prayed for was not to lose himself in the labyrinthine alleys… or stumble into another Skaven warband.
—
Green witch-fire spread unnaturally across the city.
It had become a vision of hell.
The Skaven were butchering everything in their path.
"How did you get here?" Mia asked.
"I don't know. I blinked," Veldon replied.
They were moving swiftly through the burning city.
The Guidance of Grace was vague—like a compass needle pointing in a direction. It did not show her the path. She had to find it herself.
Perhaps she hadn't realized it, but at this critical moment—when only she could lead them—she was remarkably calm.
"Where's Kalé?"
"We were waiting for him when we were pulled here. I don't think he came with us."
Veldon kept close, twin swords in hand.
They had not yet encountered Skaven.
But it was only a matter of time.
Mia had switched weapons.
Instead of her spear, she now wielded the Golden Sword.
It was a rational choice.
A sword had longer lateral reach, and its sweeping strikes were more efficient when fighting numerous enemies at close quarters.
Against swarms rather than formations, a blade was better than a spear.
Somewhere several streets away, a wave of shrill battle cries surged like a tide.
"We need to move faster."
Mia did not know whether death in this world would allow her to resurrect in the Lands Between.
Better not to test it.
Veldon's face was hidden beneath his helmet's shadow.
This city stirred memories.
At the dawn of the Shattering War, Leyndell had looked much the same.
That had been thousands of years ago.
In his long existence, Veldon remembered mostly war.
Everything else came only as fleeting echoes.
They were not the only ones running.
The moment they left the alley, they encountered fleeing humans.
Their proportions alone reminded Veldon—
This was not the Lands Between.
Citizens sprinted desperately through the streets.
Hiding indoors was futile. With no soldiers fighting back, Skaven could invade homes at will.
The sickly green fire spread even faster than the ratmen themselves.
Mia noticed something.
The direction the crowd fled—
It aligned with the direction of Grace.
"Help! Someone—please help!"
A woman lay pinned beneath an overturned stall at the roadside.
Half her body was trapped beneath the wreckage.
"Please! Help me!"
No one stopped.
Mia and Veldon moved along the edge of the buildings, trying not to draw attention.
But they heard her.
Mia understood her language.
"Veldon," she called softly.
He halted.
"Help her."
If they left her, the next Skaven wave would kill her.
Veldon nodded and strode forward.
When the woman saw a towering, fully armored man approach, hope filled her eyes—
Until she saw his face.
She let out a short, startled gasp.
"Don't be afraid! He just looks older than he is!" Mia hurried to reassure her.
Truthfully, Veldon's undead face did seem less gaunt than when she first met him.
"Looks old" was passable.
Veldon sheathed his blades, gripped the fallen stall, and lifted it aside effortlessly.
The woman was freed.
"Praise Sigmar! Thank you, noble knight of Bretonnia!"
Her gaze lingered on Veldon's armor—the surcoat bearing a great tree and lion, the plate greaves and gauntlets.
She mistook him for a knight of another realm.
Mia seized the opportunity.
"We are from Bretonnia," she said smoothly, cutting off any chance Veldon had to correct her. "Where are you heading?"
"The palace district!" the woman cried. "It's the only place in Nuln where soldiers remain!"
From behind them, Skaven war cries echoed closer.
Fear twisted her features.
"Good knight, please—"
But she was already running.
Mia and Veldon followed.
Now Mia knew more.
This was Nuln—the Empire's second greatest city, the Crown of a Thousand Jewels.
And it was under Skaven assault.
She didn't dare assume whether this was the failed invasion of 2499… or the apocalyptic war of 2525.
If it was the latter—
This world would end.
Mia wanted to help.
She truly did.
But this was not her world.
Her place was the Lands Between.
If this was the earlier invasion, perhaps there was hope.
If it was the End Times—
She would not throw her life away.
She had no idea whether she would return if she died here.
"Veldon, cover your face."
If they were moving with the crowd, they couldn't avoid notice.
His towering frame and full armor drew eyes like a beacon.
"…Understood."
His voice carried a trace of bitterness.
Not toward her.
Toward himself.
Or whatever had made him this way.
He tore a piece of cloth from the broken stall and wrapped it around his face, leaving only his golden eyes visible beneath the helm.
"Let's go."
With that, Mia plunged into the fleeing masses.
But in that instant—
As bodies collided around her—
She noticed something strange.
Someone—
Was running the opposite way.