In the remnants of a dead world, the dirty old remnants of something that perhaps once had been a woman crawled her way slowly through the ash. There is nothing special about her, not anymore. If she had once been beautiful, it certainly didn't show now. Her once golden visage was now faded and cracked, her delicate features dried up and shrunken in. Parched and paperlike skin hung almost translucent over her gaunt figure as she clawed her way forward. Pain and regret was her only companion.

She had given everything she had, and it had all been in vain. It hadn't been enough. It had all been for nothing.

Now, all that's left is a used-up old whore who ran away from her fate, ran away so she wouldn't have to watch her children as they were swallowed up by the dark. Away from their pleads for help, growing ever louder insider her head. Away from their cries of pain, screeching in her heart. She was powerless to do anything for them. All her cards had been played, all her tricks spent. Their doom was unavoidable, as perhaps it always had been. Nothing and no one would or could help them anymore.

Even has her nails split and her tired old blood mixed with the ash she tried to claw her way forward, away from their screams. Once, long ago, she hadn't had it in her to give up, to run away. But that was long ago, so very long ago. Now, she just wanted away from it all. Yet from every direction echoed the pain of her children, hammering into her soul like nails. So in desperation, the old whore fled, away from the long, drawn-out death that awaited her children, a testament to her failure as a mother.

When finally, her journey came to an end, she raised her eyes onto a familiar sight. Horror beyond imagination met her eyes, yet she just smirked back at it.

"I knew you would come. Tell me, mighty grandfather, does this shell still excite you? Do my comely looks still make you stir? Huh, love? What's the matter, don't you want to fuck your bride?" She barked a hard laugh, bitterness shining in her eyes. Clawing her way forward, she reached out and touched the horror in front of her. When she was still Isha, queen of all life, no corruption, none of all the horrors in the universe could hope to hold a candle against her. No matter how foul or vile. But now she was just a dying whore, and slowly pox boils and worms covered up her arm. Triumphant, she held up her rotting arm.

"How does it feel?" She spat up, hacking violently, bright red blood spattering the ground below her. "To have your pretty little price snatched away from you?" She coughed again, and a tooth came loose in her hand. "Look, my love, a wedding gift. For you." She handed it to her tormentor of ten thousand years.

"You know what the best thing is? You can't even torture me for my betrayal. This form is already falling to pieces; I only kept enough of myself to fulfil my promise. I told you I would be back, and here I am. Do your worst. It will be over soon, no matter what. And you know what? I welcome it. Finally, it will all be over!" With that last shriek, her voice gave out, more blood bubbling up between her rotting teeth.

A sad gurgling noise fell down on her from above.

"Family? What family?" She croaked, collapsing down into the ash. "I have no family. Not anymore. My king is gone, my husband is dead. My children are all dying because my brothers are so obsessed with avenging the past that they buried the only hope we had for a future. All that's left now is to witness the suffering that is to come. Was that your idea? That I should watch them die? Seems I got the better of you then, great god." She smiled an almost toothless grin up towards her tormentor. "Because I'm not going to last long."

But instead of striking her down, or raining further punishment on her battered soul, her tormentor raised her up, cradling her dying form like it was the most precious thing in the world.

The goddess opened her mouth, ready to spit more taunts, ready to spend her last breath cursing the world. But as the chaos god gently carried her away, she found she didn't have it in her anymore. She was tired. Too tired to even hate anymore. "It's too late for that," she sobbed instead, lovingly placing a hand on tentacles carrying her. "Too late for me. Too late for you. Too late for everything."

"Do you know what's the worst? I think she was right. In the end, I think she was actually starting to get through, even to me. It never occurred to the rest of us to consider...Slannesh as anything other than an enemy." Isha paused as if she had never said the name of her sister before. "But to my dear little sister, she was just another sibling. And for all Slannesh did to her, for all she suffered, she could still find forgiveness in the end. That is what made her so different from the rest of us. Even I, I thought I could never forgive her. Could never forgive you." She gently touched her jailer again. Then Isha's gaze drifted off into eternity. When she spoke again, she sobbed her very last tears between the words.

"She might have been just a tiny mouse in an enormous maze, but slowly, she was working her way through it all. It would have worked, she could have redeemed even one such as I. Redeemed us all. She truly was the best of us, our last queen. And now she's gone."

Isha sobbed, cold tears falling down what remained of her cheeks down into the ash.

"I think of Imisha and her beautiful children. Dead. Dead. Dead. They're all dead. Hope is dead. And soon enough life itself will also be dead. Not even you can stop that. There is nothing you can do."

But she was wrong.

Just before her time ran out, the mass of tentacles gently set the goddess down again, and for a split second, steeled itself.

Then, with a mighty roar that echoed throughout the galaxy, the chaos god tore at its own body, ripping and tearing as it did best. Blood, gore and bile flew in all directions as its mighty maws finally snapped shut, forever cutting off a part of itself. Bleeding, panting, in so much pain it could hardly stay awake, the chaos god nudged the severed piece of flesh towards the terrified goddess, who stared at the bleeding piece of the god in terror.

"What, what have you done? Why?"

Again, it thrust the mass of flesh towards her. Appalled, she started crawling backwards on broken legs.

"No, no I won't. I can't. I won't."

The injured god continued to plead but Isha shook her head. With a wet roar, a hundred tentacles finally seized her, forcing her mouth open and placing the flesh into her mouth. But try as it might, the chaos god didn't have a gentle bone within and Ishas body was too damaged, too delicate. Her skin split and bones cracked as she choked on the corrupted flesh, speeding up her demise. She closed her eyes, going limp in body and soul. With infinite regret, realizing that he could no force feed his bride to keep her alive, the tentacles retracted and gently lowered the broken goddess back onto the ground, placing the offering of flesh beside her. A small, sad, wailing sound rang out.

"Yes, I will die." She smiled as she caught her breath again, blood running from the corners of her mouth. "It's what I want. If you truly love me, then grant me a clean death. Grant me peace from this accursed galaxy. You know as well as I do that there is no reason for me to keep living anymore."

Silence. Only silence and the drip-drop of corrupted blood falling to the ground all around her. Isha closed her eyes, readying herself for her final breath. But then, just before she left the world, she furrowed her brow, or what remained of it. Like its younger counterpart, the silence had betrayed the grandfather of all corruption. It was too loud for the acute ears of the Eldar.

"No counterargument? That's not like you."

Realizing the mistake, the bleeding mass of flesh and tentacles above her shifted uncomfortably. Isha's eyes snapped open, eyeing the familiar horror suspiciously.

"You're hiding something."

A seemingly innocent bubble came back at her.

"Don't give me that. I know you too well. We spent ten thousand years together. You know something."

The tentacles shrugged in what it clearly thought was a nonchalant move.

"You know something that would want me to continue living? I don't believe it. There is no such thing."

In silence, the tentacle pushed the severed piece of flesh closer to the dying goddess. With all her might, she struggled up into a sitting position, eying the chaos god with sceptical eyes.

"If I eat this, you'll tell me, is that is?"

A short pause. Then a resigned drool of slime acknowledged the question. Nodding, the mother of the Eldar set her face for a moment and then, with broken fingers and rotting teeth, started consuming the corrupted flesh before her. The essence of the chaos god, freely given, flowed into her dying form. Long beyond caring for anything, she tore into the flesh, gulping down great mouthfuls of corruption. Deep down she hoped the corrupted flesh would twist her inside, leaving only a savage mockery of what she once was and rob her captor of its pure bride. But even this was denied her.

For as much as she wished she wasn't, some part deep down inside her was Isha again, and even in this pitiful state, not even the purest form of corruption could touch her. Slowly, the putrid flesh distilled into a golden light inside her, illuminating the skeletal goddess from within. As she ate, her flesh started to knit, her bones regrew, fresh hair sprouted from her head, and the teeth tearing into the corrupted flesh before her became whiter and whiter with every bite.

When she was done, she looked up at her jailer, foul blood smeared all around her delicate face.

"I did as you asked. Now tell me what you know."

There was a long silence as Isha glared unyieldingly up at her captor. Gradually, a golden light was creeping up from her stomach towards her head but her face remained dark as if she was pushing the energy back. At last, reluctantly, a grumpy gurgling sound rolled down over her from above.

"Missing? What do you mean 'one is missing'?" she snapped.

An annoyed gurgle came back.

"But that can't be, they all died alongside their mother. I felt..."

Isha froze for a moment, then she drew a sharp breath, eyes widening as she raised one trembling hand to her mouth. Golden light trickled up into her eyes, a shadow of their former light reigniting deep within the shrunken-in sockets.

"Which one? Tell me! Which one is missing?"