A tall man wearing a smiling mask strode into the white space. All around him were the signs of carnage and struggle. Dried blood was splattered everywhere. The man walked past a broken doll, the porcelain face crushed in, past fractured teacups, over a ripped picnic blanket. Through a broken door he went, the wooden frame splintered and the door hanging loosely from the twisted hinges. There on the other side, in an elaborate pile of gore and excrement, he found his little sister lying face down on the floor.

"There you are!" He exclaimed happily, clapping his hands together while crouching down next to the little girl. "I have been looking everywhere for you!"

He looked around the scene and let go of a thin whistle. "Let me tell you, I've had some wild parties in my days, but I think you take the price!" He chuckled. The girl didn't move. The man's smile faded and he sighed.

"You know you can't just lie here forever, sister. Come on, it's time to get up." Disgusted, the man reached into the pile to pull her up into a sitting position. But the limp body simply collapsed again.

The man rolled his eyes and shook his head in disappointment. "We can do this all day. I'm not leaving without you."

Slowly the still girl started to rise off the ground. Strands of oily black mist rose from her back, forming into gigantic wings above her. With of flap, they started to pull the little body upwards. The head fell loosely to the side as the little body was pulled off the floor, eyes half open, staring into nothing. Like a dead puppet pulled by invisible strings, the girl rose, levitating in front of the man. The giant oily wings flexed and beat, whipping the air into a storm. Still, the face hung limply to the side of the body, neck at an unnatural angle, face not moving a muscle. One of the eyes were swollen shut, the nose was so broken that only a red hole remained and the lip split in multiple places. The simple robe was all but torn to shreds. Covering the entire little body was a layer of stinking, dried in waste. A cold voice rang out in the white space. Yet the little girl's lips didn't move.

I want my mummy

"Ah yes! About that..." the man started, scratching the back of his head, an uncomfortable expression on his mask.

Where's my mummy?

The man quickly glanced at the pile of innards splayed all around the pair. Half a severed face, lips pinned up into an obscene grin by her own bones smiled up at him. He stepped in front of it as if trying to block his sister's view. But the dark angel in front of him missed nothing.

Gently, two strands of oily smoke reached around the man and carefully picked up the destroyed face. Slowly the tentacles brought it before the little girls own, unmoving head. Her dead eyes still stared at the floor.

Mummy?

"I'm sorry. I tried to tell you. It is what she does. Who she is. I know you wanted something more for this family, but there is nothing left but hate. You have to accept that."

I'm not supposed to hate. Mummy always said so.

The severed face still hung in front of the still girl. Drops of oily smoke dripped from the grinning severed face like tears.

"Your 'mummy' is gone, Ynnead! She violated her, consumed her, tore her to shreds. Body and soul."

Must forgive. Must be hope.

"Forgive? Hope?" The man snorted, his mask stony and hard. "I am sorry little sister but those things are nothing but empty dreams for us. Dreams that died ten thousand years ago. All that is left for us now is vengeance. Don't you want to avenge your mother?"

Vengeance? For mummy?

"Yes, yes! Of all of us, you are the only one who can be a match for her. The only one who stands a chance. If you will only fight, you can beat her! Avenge what she did here! What she has done to us all!"

Sister. Family. A family should not fight.

The man threw up his hands in frustration. His mask darkened into a snarl.

"Look around you! Look where this train of thought has led you! How much more misery do we have to endure before you come to your senses? Your mummy didn't have to be ripped from you in this way, you know? If you have only listened to me, we could have prevented this! But no, all life is sacred you said! Even hers!"

He strode up to the levitating girl and grasped his hands around her chins. Forcefully he lifted the broken face so that the eyes lined up with the severed face of her mother. "Look at it! Look at your mother! Does she look sacred to you?"

Mummy? Mummy!

"I'm sorry Ynnead, but you did this. With your ignorance. You did this."

In that instant, the white space turned black. The oily tentacles crushed the severed Eldar face into fine dust. A giant flap of the great smoky wings sent the dust into oblivion, alongside all the things around them. They all blew away and disintegrated in one furious gale. All the blood, the gore, the broken things, all gone in an instant. The oily wings expanded upwards, hundreds of feet into the air, towering over the two figures. A rain of black tears fell from the sky all around them. The howling wind never abated fully, carrying with it a terrifying screech as it rushed past.

Killed her. Killed her. Kill her. KILL HER.

The man, blown to the ground by the gusts of wind, rose again, dusting his robe. He grinned grimly.

"Yes! Finally, you understand! Kill her! Together, we can do it!"

Kill them all. Kill everybody. Wipe the slate clean.

"Let us, let us just start with her, ok? Take it from there?" Too late did the laughing god grasp the monster he had just unleashed. Too late did he stop to consider which sister was actually the greater threat. Too late did he choke on his laughter, realizing he had lost control.

Hungry. So hungry. Must feed.

A nervous smile fluttered across the man's mask. "Yes, yes! But first, let's get you cleaned up, shall we?" He pulled up an extravagant multi colored handkerchief from thin air. "Turn that frown upside down?" Confidently, the man leaned in towards the little girl.

In one smooth motion, a funnel of oily smoke wrapped itself around the man's throat, lifting him into the air like he was but a leaf. Choking, he clawed at the smoke to no avail, mask contorting in pain. The tentacle pulled him close, next to the still expressionless little girl's face.

No. No touch. No smile. No clean. Stay like this. For mummy. The more the man struggled the more the smoke tightened its grip on him. More smoke rushed in from all directions, drowning him until all that could be seen was his face.

Understand?

Numbly the man nodded. The smoke retreated, sending him tumbling to the ground, gasping for air. Without a sound, the girl started eerily to glide away, the enormous wings fluttering slightly. Her body still bloody and mauled, covered in excrement, lifeless eyes staring into the ground.

Come. Show the way.

All life...is forfeit.

Author's comment: I don't know how clear it has been but I have been telling the story from Ynnead's viewpoint in two different timelines. To me in my head it has of course always been clear but the wife promptly went "WTF?! Are you high? I have absolutely no clue what is going on now!" when she read this chapter. So to make it clear: This is the continuation of 'Family Reunion' (chapter 7) and takes places at the same time as the previous chapter (meaning Ynnead has been lying here for quite a while). The Ynnead chapters in between (15,19,20 and probably the next chapter as well) all take place before the story starts. Hopefully it hasn't caused too much frustration, I know the story can be kind of hard to get a grip on as it is already.

Stay tuned for more confusion, inconsistent characters and of course, lore violations!