As Lilandrell made her way through the winding Corridor of the Wraiths, the Craftworld was in the middle of its daylight cycle.

The crystal dome suspended in the vacuum refracts the light of the stars, splashing seven colors of the rainbow between the thousand-meter-high soul stone spires.

The laughter of the Eldar children floated down from the sky gardens. They stepped barefoot over streams of liquid starlight, and the ripples created by their toes startled flocks of light-winged butterflies.

The prophet stopped at the edge of the observatory, which overlooked the entire center of civilization.

Two million Eldar live in stacked cities in the sky, with psychic-powered airships shuttling between arches studded with star core fragments.

In the distance, three hundred prophecy spires were operating in sync, and emerald psychic energy pulsated in transparent pipes like blood vessels, connecting the consciousness of the entire Ark World into a brilliant neural network.

"My Lord Prophet, the cell is ready."

The attendant in a stardust robe bowed and saluted, the psychic lantern in his hand illuminating the ancient murals on the wall - depicting the epic scene of the Eldar prophet predicting the crisis and saving the Ark.

Lilandrell stroked the image of an ancestor wearing a triple crown on the mural, and ripples immediately appeared on the wall of bones, revealing a hidden secret room.

In the center of the cell was suspended a crystal cage woven with rainbow light. Padmé was trapped in the air by eight psychic chains, each of which was connected to a prism device that was analyzing human souls.

"Begin recording prophecy parameters."

The prophet inserted the scepter into the ground, and twelve holographic screens immediately emerged from the void.

The servants knelt in a circle holding crystal dishes filled with star sand. When Lilandrell dipped her fingertips into the star sand, these particles containing the memory of stars automatically arranged themselves in the air into the pattern of the spiral arms of the Milky Way.

Liquid starlight flowed under the crystal dome. Lilandrell sat on the throne of prophecy, and three thousand spirit bone conduits meandered into a star map at her feet.

The moment the pale fingers touched Padmé's neck, the Prophet's emerald pupils suddenly contracted - what she touched was not a flesh and blood body, but the strings of fate.

"Lower the temperature of the cell to absolute zero." The prophet ordered his servants. The scepter inlaid with star core fragments knocked on the ground, causing ripples. "This human woman must..."

Before he finished speaking, a blinding light suddenly burst out from the Throne of Prophecy.

Lilandrell's consciousness was dragged into the time vortex, and she saw her Craftworld burning.

Those sky gardens woven from stardust were falling, and the rainbow shields that the Eldar were so proud of were shattered like fragile glass.

The outlines of countless imperial warships appeared in the poisonous cloud, not with the common gray paint, but with a dark red color soaked in the wrath of revenge.

"No..."

The Seer wanted to close her eyes, but the prophecy forced her to continue watching. She saw the black-armored man standing on the bridge, his scarlet lightsaber refracting the wails of the Eldar captives into a distorted spectrum.

Behind him, thousands of clone troopers wearing breathing masks were marching into the teleportation beam, their white armor splattered with the unique indigo blood of the Eldar.

The scene suddenly switched to the battlefield on the ground. The heavy bolter of the Terminator warrior tore through the psychic shield of the Eldar wizard, and when the chainsaw sword cut into the slender waist of the Eldar warrior, the flying spiritual bone fragments collided with the power claw modified by the Mechanicus Magus, producing blue sparks.

Farther away, three Emperor Poison Blade tanks were bombarding the Ark's core with melta cannons. The memory crystals that stored the Eldar's millions of years of civilization were vaporized into purple smoke in the high temperature.

What frightened Lilandrell the most was the sky—the pale laser ring of the Death Star was unfolding, and the trajectory of this beam of destruction happened to coincide exactly with the doomsday scene she had foreseen.

As the Death Star's ring energy array completed its recharge, the entire Craftworld's psychic network suddenly let out a dying scream.

Lilandrell saw the starry sky outside the dome begin to distort. The pale beam of destruction was like a spear of judgment thrown down by the gods, and the spirit bone fortifications along the way vaporized like melted wax figures.

The central soul stone spire that was hit directly burst out with a supernova-level halo, and tens of thousands of the Eldar people were directly sublimated into elementary particles in the light.

Whether it is a baby in its mother's arms, a priest praying, or an artist dancing in the aerial corridor, their soul fragments mixed with the dust of bones and condensed into poignant stardust belts in the vacuum.

The Death Star's main gun has completed its second recharge and is now aimed at the core reactor of the Ark World.

Lilandrell looked down at her fingers that were becoming particles. The powerful psychic power of the Eldar prophet allowed her to survive for thirteen more heartbeats in the annihilation of matter.

She saw her long hair turning into stardust and drifting away, and saw the million-year-old Eldar epic in the memory hall curling up into ashes in the sea of ​​fire.

It was not until this moment that she realized that the illusion of "Padmé destroying the Ark" that she saw at that time was actually the cause and effect of the seeds she had sown today.

The prophecy that she believed so much actually deceived her. No, it was not a lie. She was the one who created all this. She was the one who started the countdown to the elves' demise.

"Prophet! You shed tears of blood!"

The servant's exclamation brought Lilandrell back to reality.

She touched her cheek tremblingly and found that her fingertips were stained not with tears but with vaporizing psychic essence - a sign of the prophet's collapse.

Padmé suddenly looked up from within the crystal cage, her eyes burning with a golden light that made the prophet's heart tremble: "You always say that humans are a short-sighted race, but you can't even comprehend the simplest law of cause and effect?"

Padmé had just glimpsed the future for a moment, and she already understood what was happening.

At this moment, Padmé, who was imprisoned in chains, showed a compassionate smile. In her opinion, this group of Eldar had believed in the prophecy to the point of being hopeless.

"What you see is never the future..."

“It’s the reality that is being created by your own hands.”

When the jump alarm suddenly sounded outside the Ark World, Lilandrell finally understood the prophecy.

"No, this is impossible..."

Through the observation dome, she saw Anakin's revenge fleet tearing apart the real universe just as she had imagined, and the pale outline of the Death Star was emerging behind the clouds, like a sword of Damocles hanging over the Eldar civilization.

The Prophet staggered towards the observation window, and through the shattered crystal dome, she saw Anakin's flagship, the Executor, hovering in the center of the burning star field.

The man's black cloak billowed like blood waves in the scarlet warning lights of the bridge. When he slowly turned his head to look at the Ark World, Lilandrell's psychic vision penetrated hundreds of kilometers of vacuum.

Two pairs of eyes collided violently on the thread of fate, one pair was molten gold boiling with rage for revenge, the other pair was shattered emerald green.

Lilandrell now understood that destruction was coming.