Aeldari! The battle is lost! Our kin have fled the skies and the Webway is closed to us. We have nowhere to flee and no hope of fighting our way through the eternal enemy.
Fill your hearts with curses! Curse those who leave us here to die! Curse those who sent us here to fight on this barren world! Let your bitterness fill your voice until it becomes the banshee howl! Let the sorrow of knowing you will never see your home, or travel through the immaterium ever again fill all the spaces in your soul!
Aeldari! Fight! Fight and die! Fight for there is nothing else left to do! Die for that is what they made us for!
Let our screams pierce the veil and let our hate burn the stars! Let our might shine bright in this last moment, for we shall never shine again!
Cry out at the injustice we are made to bear! Cry out at the arrogance of our enemies and what their overreaching folly has unleashed upon us all! Scream and cry, for our pain and sorrow is what our masters want!
You will never see your children! You will never see your parents! You will see your brothers and sister, for they stand beside you just as doomed as you are!
We shall never wake in another body with the memories we scrounged and scraped and scavenged for thousands of years! All you have is now lost!
So hate! Hate and rage! Curse and wail! Fill your heart with sorrow and scream at what has been forced upon us!
This is our end! There is no future! There is no hope! Die with despair on your lips and tears in your eyes! Die cursing our gods and our kin! Die cursing our creators and our slavers! Die cursing the parents who brought us into this world of suffering and strife!
They have come! Fight or flee, it makes no difference now! Die in pain! Die alone! Die with those beside you knowing that they will be tortured just as you will be for the enemy has no mercy!
Curse! Rage! Scream! Hate! Cry, and suffer! This is our fate! This is what we were born for and what we were given everything to do!
- Autarch Alarathis 48,241,253 BC
In memory of all the souls who returned to our divine mother so new life may bless the lands where our blood has been spilled.
—-
The Emperor returned to the secondary bridge of the Bucephelus accompanied by the crackle of psychic energy as the Warp portal closed behind it. Isha was nowhere to be seen, but the presence of the Aeldari Goddess could be felt in the dark room where it had first sung its distracting song.
The Emperor gave Isha a cursory glance with Warp sight before marching towards the captain's chair where Lysander was seated.
Everything had progressed, mostly, according to schedule.
The readings of the Eye of Terror were in the range Malcador and the others had calculated. Soon, the Warp would become calmer for several hundred years, meaning the opportunity for humanity's re-expansionism was approaching.
The remains of several Aeldari 'Soul-engines' had been recovered. Stocks of psychic crystals, Wraithbone, and blackstone had been pillaged and looted from abandoned Aeldari colonies, as well as torn from both the dead and living Psychomatons they found. All of these materials, incapable of being created by humanity, would be important in creating the psychic beacon necessary for the crusade that would take place after the reclamation of the Sol system.
Most importantly, the gene-tech that was left behind on many of the old worlds of the federation of man had been recovered safely. Almost all of the reagents, enzymes, and catalysts the Emperor had gathered during the final days of Old Night had been used up in creating the leaders and weapons that would bind humanity together. The soldiers that would be needed for them to maintain their rule would require far more.
They would be self-sufficient and capable of creating more of themselves once sufficient numbers of the Progenoid glands of each legion were completed, but the initial investment was proving more expensive in terms of gene-tech than the Emperor would have liked.
'The Selenar gene-cults will regret spurning me.' The Emperor muttered internally.
It would take another 40 or 50 years, but Terra's natural satellite, Luna, would be brought to heel. Careful preparations would be necessary for the invasion, for a single wayward bomb or lance blast could wipe out everything the Emperor wanted from them.
But, things were progressing on that front as well. The first proto-types of the 1st legion already walked with his Custodes upon Terra, gaining combat experience with their new bodies while slowly replacing the Thunder Warrior garrisons placed around the lands that had been unified into the Imperium.
Once the majority of Thunder Warriors were relieved of guard duty by the 1st legion, they would be gathered to break Mt. Ararat, the last fortress-complex of the lands of Urartu and gateway to the Ethnarchy.
When the conjoined bunkers and dugouts within the mountain were nothing but hollowed out ruins, the true changing of the guard could commence.
It was poetic in some sense that the monsters of the old world would be purged where all Abrahamic religions claimed the Ark of Noah beached itself after the great flood; the flood that wiped out all the sinful cities that incurred God's wrath.
Of course, that fictional myth was based on older legends, and the Truth of what happened was not whatever despotic messiah or ruler demanded his or her scribe write into holy scripture for their convenience.
The original story was very different when the Emperor sat upon the throne to his kingdom in ancient Mesopotamia.
The Emperor shook its head, reverting to the more distanced mindset it had instead of one of its more ancient personas. That period of history was a simpler time with allies that could be relied upon, a populace that was mostly obedient, and gods he could argue with.
Now, it was all that was left. No one else remained.
'Were they worth everything you gave them?'
The question asked in a sad voice echoed in the Emperor's mind.
He couldn't answer that question back then, and it wasn't sure of the answer now.
The only thing the Emperor did know was that there was only the path of progress, the sacrifices necessary to move forwards, and the eternal legend all humans worked to be a part of.
That path would someday lead to humanity's future and salvation.
The Emperor could still see that future, symbolized as a distant island floating on an ocean as black as night. There was no swimming in these waters, for beneath the rippling black ocean underneath the starless sky lay abyssal monsters of every kind. The only way to reach the island was to wade across the narrow sandbar hidden beneath the treacherous waves.
White foam and dark waters obscured sharp coral and slippery rocks embedded in the path that would cut or trip the Emperor should they be stepped on. The Emperor would step over them where possible, but not all could be predicted or averted. Some would have to be trodden on, and the consequences would have to be beared.
Stepping on the coral pierced skin, drawing blood and leaving burning fragments within the muscle.
Stepping on the slippery stones would cause the Emperor to lose its footing, banging shins, knees, elbows, or even its jaw against other jagged rocks.
Every time that happened, the Emperor would have to drag itself up again and push forwards, for the Emperor could never stray from or linger upon this painful path.
The cold waters of the ocean continually sapped the Emperor's strength. Only by constantly moving would enough heat be generated to resist the chilling touch of the ocean.
And the abyssal monsters that swam beneath the waves were always watching and waiting for the Emperor to fall.
If the Emperor ever fell from the path, either due to losing its footing, or from weakness as its body lost even the strength to shiver from the freezing waters, they would drag it down into the depths of the ocean. There, in their natural habitat, the Emperor would be drowned and devoured; with all its screams silenced by the weight of the water and turned into muffled froth that would float up as small bubbles to the surface.
"My Lord…" Lysander called to the Emperor. "The Titan transports should arrive in another hour, and the survivors on the Xenos slave carriers have all been rescued. We can begin the journey to the Pluto Warp gate when they arrive, but we will need your assistance to mask the fleet's presence when traveling past the outer planets and Mars to avoid detection."
The Emperor was still behind Lysander, having emerged from the Warp on the raised platform of the command deck that held the holomap and captain's chair.
The Emperor closed its eyes, switching to a more amenable persona for the occasion.
This expedition had been tiresome, and the extra baggage in the form of the Aeldari 'Catumen' was aggravating.
"As a celebration for a job well done, I thought it would be a good timing for a speech." Lysander quipped as the Emperor stepped forwards.
"A speech?" The Emperor replied with a slight laugh. "I would think a toast would be necessary as well. No celebration is complete without a good drink."
"I thought the same thing, my Lord." Lysander's chuckle came from over the high backrest of the chair that obscured his head and back from the Emperor's vision. "I've given permission to the bridge crew of the Bucephelus and the General Staff of the other ships to break out the Amasec. One quarter of a glass for all of us at a job well done. The rest of the crew will get extra-rations and a glass of Amasec with the last meal of the day."
"Prepared as always eh?" The Emperor stepped forwards, past the armrest of the captain's chair, and turned towards Lysander. "Then I guess I have no choice but to give a spee-"
—-
As the Emperor turned towards Lysander, he saw his Lord's brown eyes widen and the slight smile he had on his face turned into a vicious scowl. In the next moment, every hair rose on Lysander's neck as his breath caught in his lungs. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw some of the bridge crew trip, falling to their knees, gasping for air as the psychic pressure of the Emperor suffused the entire bridge.
Then, the moment was gone, and Lysander sucked in mouthfuls of air like a half-drowned man as the rest of the bridge crew coughed and at least one vomited.
Lysander turned towards the Emperor only to see his Lord whip his head to the entrance of the bridge. At the same time, the pneumatic doors whooshed open just as one of the Custodes ran through it at full sprint.
The Custodes came to a stop before the Emperor and saluted, but the scowl on the Emperor's face only deepened as he inspected one of his personal bodyguards.
Golden sparks crackled from the Emperor's eyes which slowly looked up and down, left and right across the entirety of the bridge, as if he were looking through the very walls and into every corner of the massive starship.
"Lysander." The Emperor's tone was quiet and utterly devoid of all emotion. "Redirect all the Titan transports to the nearest Vengeance-class cruisers."
"My Lord?" Lysander asked, hoarsely.
The Emperor turned towards Lysandre, and he saw golden flames roaring inside the black pupils of his brown eyes. "Begin a full disembarkation of the Bucephelus to the battleships Artax and Chetak."
"A disembarkation, my Lord?" From the way the Emperor was acting, it sounded more like an evacuation order.
The only reply was a silent stare from the Emperor, and the emotionless look froze Lysander's blood in his veins.
No questions would be tolerated. No disobedience would be forgiven.
"As you will, my Lord." Lysander bowed, eager to break eye contact.
It was rare to see the Emperor so angered, but this was not the first time Lysander had seen his liege's fury. This was usually what happened when those who faced the Master of Mankind didn't accept what he said while he was smiling.
And Lysander had a good idea who the cause for his Lord's ire was.
'I had a feeling something was wrong with the Catumen…' Lysander thought to himself as he activated the ship-wide vox.
"All-hands. Proceed to your predesignated hangar bays and prepare for disembarkment. I repeat. All-hands. Proceed to the…"
Lysander repeated the message several more times as the bridge crew picked themselves up while a janitorial servo-skull removed the regurgitated contents of someone's stomach from the floor.
The Aeldari Catumen had been completely silent when it returned. Lysander had thought it would appear the slightest bit distressed after the battle with its people. Even the Emperor expressed a brooding frustrated form of sorrow, sometimes standing on the empty battlefields of Terra littered with bodies and staring off into the distance.
The Catumen, however, appeared utterly undisturbed, as if nothing had changed from when he first saw it on the bridge. It merely walked out the door without a single word, and wandered off into the ship under the watchful eye of one of the Custodes who followed closely behind her.
Lysander couldn't tell why the sight of it made him uncomfortable earlier, but he understood now after staring into the Emperor's face just now. It was the complete lack of emotion upon its beautiful face that had sent a small shiver down his spine.
Regardless, whatever was about to transpire was not going to happen immediately.
The Emperor had ordered for a disembarkation, not an evacuation. The former was an orderly transfer of people off the ship with shuttles and barges. The latter was a mad rush for every crewmate to the nearest escape pod to launch themselves into the void of space, for it would be safer there than within the ship.
Lysander finished repeating the order to disembark, and turned back towards the Emperor. His liege was glowering at a point at the edge of the room, slightly down and to the right. Gold sparks crackled periodically from his eyes, and Lysander shivered as he suddenly felt something look at him from the direction the Emperor was looking at.
The Catumen was there, beyond the walls and far below this deck looking back at the Emperor while the Emperor glowered at it. Lysander had been caught in its peripheral vision, yet even that briefest touch of the corner of its eyes caused goosebumps to form on Lysander's arms and neck.
"Bridge crew…" Lysander called out to the men and women who were on the level beneath him. Some were quivering, like newborn fawns. "We will head to our designated disembarkation point. Follow me." All of them followed him meekly, giving the Emperor a wide berth.
The Emperor turned as the last of the bridge crew passed him, and looked at the Custodes. Something unspoken passed between them, and the Custodes banged his spear against the floor of the ship once in affirmation before following the rest of the bridge crew through the door.
The walk through the Bucephelus's corridors was long and silent. Only their footsteps followed by the clank and clomp of the accompanying Custodes at the end of their group echoed around them.
Finally, they reached their assigned hangar bay with the shared shuttle for most of the crew on this section of the ship.
There was a crackle, and the Emperor appeared before them again out of a Warp portal next to the shuttles that would take them off the Bucephelus and to the battleships that remained at either side since the battle with the Xenos. His face was emotionless, but his eyes inspected each and every one of the crew boarding the shuttles as they passed him. Custodes followed many of the groups boarding the shuttles, entering with them and leaving the Emperor behind.
As Lysander locked himself into his seat with the restraining bars and harness of the shuttle, he sighed in both relief and exasperation.
Nothing ever went as planned, and he had left his best bottle of Amasec behind underneath his chair on the bridge.
—-
The Emperor watched the crew of the Bucephelus pass by. All of them were flickered between two states through the double vision of foresight.
Human faces and skin were occasionally replaced by ash, blood, and charcoaled flesh. Blackened human pâté after blackened human pâté passed by him, like conveyor belts carrying burnt hamburgers that had been stepped.
Even the Custodes were not spared. Their Golden armor was flattened and partially melted. Their spears were bent with blades shattered, and whatever remained of their reinforced flesh and bones had been incinerated and carbonified.
However, it was the Bucephelus itself that concerned the Emperor the most. The corridors were filled with volcanic rock, and the entire ship itself was twisted like a wet rag that had been rung out.
'Isha.' The Emperor thought, and looked down into the depths of the ship where the Aeldari Goddess stared back at him.
Somehow, Isha would be responsible for everything he saw before him.
There was no time point for the events in the Emperor's foresight, but instinct whispered that this was not an immediate event.
Isha had not moved during the disembarkation of the Bucephelus, merely returning the Emperor's gaze patiently, as if to say it was the Emperor's turn to make its move.
The Emperor cast its foresight out into the far future, attempting to see whether the island it saw was gone.
The island remained in sight, but it too was flickered between itself and another vision of the future.
Static crackled, replacing the island with a blurry image of granite black and burning orange walls closing in around the Emperor that gradually melted away into an elliptical bubble made of black and red crystal.
The Emperor was at a crossroad. Two futures lay in its path. One where all progressed as planned. The other was something it had never seen before, but meant certain doom.
"I should have known your species' pride wouldn't keep your head cowed for long." The Emperor muttered.
Narrowed eyes were the only response Isha gave.
The Emperor cast one last look throughout the ship, confirming every crewmember and Custodes had left, then opened a Warp portal to the dark room Isha waited in.
This battle found all those who followed the Emperor wanting, so just as the final battle between the Void Dragon and the Protector of Humanity had been fought between just the two of them, this fight between Isha and the Emperor would be theirs and theirs alone.
—-
There was a crackle, and a purple vortex swirled into existence growing larger and larger like the whirlpool that forms when opposing currents in the ocean meet. The Emperor stepped from the Warp, purple mist and clouds sticking to the golden armor like tufts of cotton candy before sizzling into nothingness as they dissipated into the materium.
"Is this your attempt at negotiating with me?" The Emperor asked sarcastically. The golden glow from its armor was the only other source of light besides the green glow that was centered around Isha in the dark room.
"In a sense, I suppose this is." The Aeldari goddess replied tartly. "Violence is the only language creatures such as you seem to understand."
"Then you have moved too late." The Emperor snorted. "You stood a better chance with your Psychomatons."
"I did not wish to slaughter your followers." Isha shrugged. "You are their protector. Any action against them means you must react. That is your purpose; especially if that action is taken by something from the immaterium."
"So, all of this is just a threat?" The Emperor questioned with one eyebrow raised.
"Are you so blind to how the future works, Mon-keigh?" Isha sighed while giving the Emperor a condescending look. "I fully intend to kill every human here and tear this ship from the sky. It is because I have the intention and the ability to do so that you see the double vision of foresight overlaid on top of each other. That was the only way you would ever force them to flee from this place. No mortal, no matter how enhanced, will survive what is to happen here."
"Then…" The Emperor's sword materialized in its right hand with a burst of flames. "I have no choice but to destroy you."
Isha merely shook her head, as if exasperated.
"You will have no choice in the future, but at this moment in the present you still do."
The slaughter of the humans had not yet happened even though it was foreseen. Therefore, the Emperor would have to act to prevent that slaughter. However, as they had not been murdered yet, Isha was still blameless for their deaths.
There was still room for discourse between the two deities.
But, the Emperor would still have to act against Isha, for it was the Protector of Humanity.
"Then, it makes no difference then." The Emperor said as it took a heavy step towards Isha. "This is a threat." Brown eyes met with silver ones as the two stared at each other. "What do you want?"
The death and destruction wrought by Isha would be costly. If there was a way to prevent it, the Emperor was willing to consider a degree of leniency. Although, any offer given would be made mostly to buy time to find an easier and better place to destroy Isha.
"I already have what I want." Isha replied, a slow smile growing on her face. "You, all alone here with me." The room shook as both of them released their psychic essences, filling the room to the brim with the invisible weight of their presence. "There is only one name for the path I proceed down. It is you who sees the crossroad that must choose which direction to go in order to end up in the same place."
The Emperor raised its taloned hand, palm pointed towards Isha in an open fist.
"Then I shall reach that place over your broken body and stolen mind."
Golden walls crackled into existence several meters from Isha before closing in on her to surround her as they did on the dead Necron pylon world.
Green winds suddenly rushed outwards from the goddess, snaking around each individual wall and shattering them from the side facing outwards, while brown gusts of hurricane force slammed into the Emperor. The air howled as it rushed past, dragging the Emperor backwards and forcing it to its knees. The talons on the Emperor's left hand sparked as they caught the floor, scarring the metal as the force of the winds was slowly overcome by the friction of the Emperor's armored boots and golden talons against the metal floor.
"Did you think I did nothing but mope while I was your captive?" Isha laughed. "These golden wards of yours are made to project your power inwards in a cage suffused with only your essence. But, just like the walls of a badly built house, they are easy to knock down when they stand alone."
The Emperor glared up at Isha. Such a display of power should have been costly. Any attempt to overcome the Emperor with only psychic power would be annulled and it would cost more power to destroy the wards than it took to create them. However, the confident posture of Isha betrayed no worry. This inefficient usage of power did not disturb her in the slightest.
"You devoured their souls." The Emperor growled as it rose against the howling air. "That is the only explanation for this power." A golden finger rose to point at Isha accusingly as the Emperor stood up from the ground; long locks of raven hair flowing behind it with the wind, writhing like snakes. "Mother of the Aeldari. Goddess of Life. Your titles are nothing but sophistry and propaganda. In the end, you gods are no better than the Ruinous Powers of Chaos."
Isha only snorted at that.
"Do you think me so easy to anger with a statement of the obvious?" All emotion fell away from Isha's face, leaving only the blank eyed stare of something utterly inhuman looking at the Emperor. "I am a deity from the War in Heaven. It was we who kept the Sea of Souls clean of the corruption that now suffuses the Warp. We fed upon all the emotions including the pain and suffering felt by the races that worshiped us. It was by keeping all the horror they experienced in our bellies, converting their worst nightmares into our miracles and gifts, that there was nothing else for the Warp Predators to feast upon."
A wince returned emotion to Isha's face as some painful memory forced a hand up to her forehead. "Although, in the end, even we could not keep the Warp Plagues from ruining everything."
"Then you truly are no better than Slaanesh."
The Emperor gathered its strength within it, preparing its next move. There were no more Aeldari here. Whatever power Isha had was temporary; like an enormous battery that had been charged. The Emperor was still connected to humanity, constantly empowered by them. Victory would be the Emperor's eventually.
Even if the amount of power they had was equal, the Emperor's own nature rejected and reverted the unnatural and unclean. Thus, every interaction between Isha and the Emperor would take more from Isha than the Emperor. Eventually, Isha would run out of power, and then vengeance could be mete out at the Emperor's leisure.
Still, even though victory could be achieved by weathering this temporary storm, whatever fallout from their battle would damage the ship they were in. A quicker victory would always be better, and conquering a greater foe would foment a grander legend.
"You still do not understand what that means." Isha smiled to herself sadly. "I took the thoughts, dreams, and souls of my children as they died; slain by your people's hands or recovered by my own. All the thousands of years of fattening pleasure, and the torment of losing it all at the hands of She who Thirsts now lies within my breast." The goddess's hand rose to the goddess's chest, gripping at the simple white shift, wrinkling the thin Wraithbone cloth that covered Isha as the Aeldari's deity's lips curled back in anger. "It is only thanks to the emotion they carved my core out of, the body woven together by my mother, and the boiling blood my father poured into my veins that I can convert all the worst parts of their lives into a future good."
The Aeldari goddess's eyes were vacant, looking at something or someone that no longer existed. The pitch of the green and brown winds' howl raging throughout the room rose as the speed they ran around the room increased, denting air vents and forcing screws and bolts out of pipes as they forced themselves through every available opening in the room; as if they were seeking to escape as far away from Isha as they could.
"The strongest emotions born from the deepest despair and hottest hatred draw out the greatest power from the immaterium." Isha's voice was heavy with a smoldering resentful anger. "The Four are based off of that principle, and so were we."
A sardonic smile crossed Isha's lips, sheathing the white teeth bared in anger, as some semblance of control returned to the Aeldari goddess's face.
"Besides, do not speak to me as if you are any different. You throw all those who reach out to you into the flames for your own purpose."
The hand clutching at Isha's chest relaxed and fell away.
"In the end, we are both just a more complex form of Warp Predator. That was the name of the creatures the Old Ones specialized in breeding, after all."
Golden sparks crackled from the Emperor's eyes as its own lips drew back with its own anger.
"I am the Protector of Humanity." The Emperor spat. "Their sacrifices are the toll paid to ensure the survival of all mankind."
Isha laughed at this, a manic carefree laughter of exhaustion and disbelief. The irony of what the Master of Mankind said was too much to bear.
"Tell yourself what you want." Isha replied, head still shaking at the hypocrisy of it all. "The same theories that made me were applied when making you, even though you were far more blessed than I ever was." The smile disappeared from Isha's face as the last words left those pink lips, and a deep seated hatred glowed in those silvery eyes; dark green jealousy and black brown rage mixing within the abyssal black of the goddess's pupils.
"Enough of your accursed words, Aeldari witch." The Emperor said taking a step forward against the winds. "I may have wanted your knowledge, but I should have known that suffering your presence was never worth the price." Golden chains clinked as they emerged from around the Emperor; howling winds passing right through them, annulled and incinerated as they passed over and through the burning links of metal. "It may take me far longer, but burying you on Luna should bear fruit in a few decades."
The chains struck, rushing towards Isha through the wind at blinding speed, only to be suddenly entangled in dark green vines that grew from the ground and air around the Aeldari goddess. The two bindings clashed, with the chains slowly but surely pushing back the vines, burning and strangling them. However, the speed at which they moved was now at a snail's pace.
"I have seen your tricks, Mon-keigh." Isha snorted. "You would do best to never use the same ones again."
Time stopped for a brief moment as the Emperor realized something. Isha's form remained Aeldari, and no hint of animal claws or fangs appeared on her.
Those features only appeared when Isha was surprised or suppressing something; when some internal discord affected what shape the Aeldari goddess should take.
Isha was not conflicted, confused, or out of control at this moment. Every action was being conducted with precision and care. Every part of the Aeldari goddess was now in complete sync, and fully directed against the Emperor.
The most potent weapon in the eyes of the Mother of the Aeldari were not the beasts of the wild, but the Aeldari themselves and it was their form Isha now took.
The Emperor only had time to open its mouth before Isha vanished, turning into a gold and white streak that was rushing towards it. A misty cone of vapor trailed behind the goddess as the sound barrier was broken with the lunge.
Reflexively, the Emperor tried to step back, but only managed to lift its head backwards before Isha's fist narrowly missed the forehead and struck downwards into the center of its chest.
The blow sent the Master of Mankind through the reinforced metal of the floor with the screech of torn metal, only for that sound to be interrupted as the Emperor crashed through the ceiling of the deck below it, penetrating that one as well.
Floor, ceiling, floor, ceiling. The Emperor passed through 4 pairs before opening a Warp portal behind it that opened at Isha's back. The force Isha struck the Emperor with propelled the Master of Mankind like a bullet, sending the Emperor through the portal and towards the Aeldari goddess. But, even as the Emperor turned around to strike what it thought would be Isha's exposed back, the Aeldari goddess was already turned towards the portal, waiting for the Emperor to exit.
The Emperor could teleport instantly to almost any location it wished, but even the Emperor could not pass through a door that had not been opened. Thus, the door would always appear before the Emperor. Ergo, Isha would always strike first, for the Aeldari goddess would always stand in front of the door before the Emperor could pass through it.
But, that made no difference. The Emperor's sword was held with both hands, and the runes of forced slumber and thought-stealing were already upon the burning blade.
Golden steel met white skin, and cut through it like butter only to be smothered by an explosion of gray green bark and branches that tore themselves out of Isha's arm instead of red muscle and ivory bone.
The wooden bindings smoldered and steamed as they wrapped around both the blade of the Emperor's sword and both of its hands; holding the Master of Mankind in place.
The runes upon the blade crackled, and multicolored flames burned beneath Isha's bindings, making them glow like overheated wood or charcoal in a fire. Yet, the spell did not progress any further.
Static crackled before the Emperor's eyes, and new understanding spread through its mind.
Plants, when infected by a parasite or pathogen, had several defenses they deployed with their immune system. Their first reaction was to pump garbage into the affected region; to kill off the infected cells or entire leaves, to destroy the part in order to protect the whole. Isha used that biological reaction as symbolism for her own defense against the invasion against her mind the Emperor's spell brought; encapsulating it in junk memories and thoughts that she would kill off as the spell spread through them.
As long as the Goddess of Life continued killing the infected parts invaded by the Emperor's spell, its spell would never progress any further.
The Emperor struck with a psychic blow, firing a stream of golden flames emitted from before its face, only to be rebuffed as green brown winds slammed into them with even greater force; the Emperor's immaterium annulling aura balanced out by the greater violence Isha struck with.
Forked lighting lashed out from the equidistant point between them where their two energies met; clawing molten gouges into the floor, walls, and ceiling.
The Emperor would eventually win this battle between psychic blows. Even now, Isha had to spend more power just to hold the growing ball of blazing energy between them. However, it was the Emperor who would lose if time progressed any further.
Both of the Emperor's hands were bound, but Isha's other arm was free and it was cocked backwards like the hammer of a gun; the muscles in her arm and waist both pulled back and taught like an archer pulling back a bow string. In less than 0.01 seconds Isha would strike the Emperor with the force of several hundred cannons. Taking that blow at this close range, and with both its arms bound would be physically fatal. Even if the Emperor could regrow and repair its body, Isha would attack again before the damage could be repaired. From then on, Isha would repeatedly destroy the Master of Mankind's partially reconstructed form, and the Emperor would endlessly be on the backfoot.
The Emperor needed to take back the initiative this instant, and the decision needed to be made in less than 0.008 seconds.
Isha's eyes widened as the Emperor cut off its psychic attack, adding an extra millisecond to the timer, bringing the golden pauldron on the left shoulder forwards. The converging energies between them was slingshotted towards the Emperor and struck the golden pauldron, sending screaming sparks flying everywhere, pockmarking and cratering the wall behind the Emperor with a shotgun blast of psychic energies as the stream of green and brown gouged into the golden auramite of the Emperor's armor, shattering into splinters of force as the nullifying aura of the Emperor eventually destabilized them enough to break apart.
But, the Emperor's gamble worked. The force of the strike on its left shoulder had torn its left hand from the bindings, and as soon as the taloned hand was free, the Emperor swung its psychic might like a hammer into the side of Isha's green brown winds, deflecting both diagonally away from them, cutting through every hull and bulkhead of the Bucephelus as it crossed the wall, shooting into space like a laser beam.
Free of both Isha's psychic attack and part of her dead tree bindings, the Emperor's taloned hand closed around her upper torso as she swung forwards; freezing the motion of her waist, leaving only the muscles in her arm to swing forwards. Even then, the sonic boom of her strike sent a shock wave past the Emperor's cheek; cutting up the side of its face, shattering both the jaw joint and eardrum.
However, Isha's fist did no more damage than that, as the taloned hand held her back, out of arm's length. A Warp portal opened before them, and the Emperor threw the both of them outside of the ship, into the void between the Bucephelus and the planet below.
The Emperor's talons squeezed around Isha, sparking as the auramite screeched against the goddess's impossibly hard skin. Only the sword could penetrate that, and the blade was still bound in the bark bindings of Isha's arm.
However, the Emperor could feel the goddess weakening.
It was the Goddess of Life and the void of space was an inhospitable place to it. On the ship, there were still plants, air, dust filled ducts, and dirty rooms. All were filled with life of some sort; whether it be decorative flora, microscopic fauna like dust mites, and bacteria or fungi. The environment of the Bucephelus was a microcosm teeming with invisible life, and thus Isha could exist there comfortably.
Out here, in the lifeless void filled with no air, where the only winds were the solar winds released from radioactive plumes by the nearby stars that brought painful death for most life through genetic damage and radiation sickness, Isha would weaken.
Soon, the bark bindings would die, and the Emperor's sword would plunge into Isha's heart, sending her to sleep for all eternity; creating another alien Atlas that would shoulder all the worlds of humanity.
The Emperor expected despair, worry, or even pain to be expressed in the silvery eyes of Isha, but all it saw was the reflection of grim determination the Emperor itself acted with.
Isha's free hand grabbed the taloned gauntlet, and psychic energies sparked as the nails began to drill down past the Emperor's aura.
Something touched the Emperor's mind. Something unfathomably more massive than it, and infinitely alien.
Pain filled every nerve fiber of the Emperor, and its teeth gritted holding in a tortured howl.
Thoughts, sights, sounds, smells, and sensations seeped into all that composed the Emperor; adding weight to the golden path that threatened to cause its bricks to crack and crumble.
The Emperor attempted to throw Isha away, but it was the Emperor who was now bound to Isha. Its taloned hand was gripped with one hand, while the sword was bound in the bark still protruding from the other.
It… He… She… could feel that whatever Isha was doing was interfering with the multiple personas that composed the Emperor, forcing a different face up to the surface as alien memories were dumped into the Emperor's mind.
Man, Woman, Old, Young, Black, Brown, Yellow, White. Every race, gender, and age of human shifted from one to the next as the Emperor struggled against Isha.
Out of the corner of his eye, the Emperor could see Isha was not unscarred by this either. Flames consumed the hand embedded in the gauntlet, burning away at her as the Emperor's essence rejected and reverted Isha back to the nothingness of the immaterium. A pained grimace furrowed her brow, and sweat flew off her skin into the void in pearly droplets as they tumbled ever closer to the planet.
Suddenly, Isha's grip weakened, and her arm that was bound to the blade via the flora that had come out from it came loose from the tree bindings, as if shedding the wood like a glove. Flames were consuming that hand as well, but the Empress didn't bother considering why or how that happened. Instead, she took her swords, still encased in Isha's bindings, and smashed the blade covered in burnt bark against Isha's head with all her might.
The titanic blow sent the goddess shooting away from the Empress, and shattered the charred remains of her bindings into charcoal splinters.
The Emperor reverted to his preferred male form, persona included, for whatever Isha had implanted inside of him still raged inside his core; burdening the already crowded path his true form paved with extra thoughts and memories.
The neutral mindset equidistant from everything could not be brought back, but it was a trivial matter. There was no need to be neutral to break a god. He hadn't defeated the Void Dragon as the Emperor, after all.
Isha was falling towards the planet, both arms still burning, but she was not dead. She could not be allowed to die after inconveniencing him this much.
Cursed knowledge from Molech came back with the horrid memories of that place, and new golden wards formed with the numbers of Chaos. 3 sided equilateral triangles formed far away from Isha, keeping them out of her reach while they were reinforced and strengthened. 8 of these were summoned with Isha at the center. They would close together as a shining trapezohedron formed from 3 sided triangles that would make a shape with 8 sides and 6 vertices; a double pyramid made with golden light and red flames that would fill with all the horrors of decay, war, and decadence humanity had experienced.
He watched her glare up at him, before shooting towards one of the gaps between the swiftly closing wards. They moved too slow to catch her, but he was expecting that. There were only a few places she could run to escape the wards. They would herd her right where he wanted her.
With all the psychic he could muster, the Master of Mankind launched himself towards Isha, far faster than any bullet or bolter round. Golden after images streaked behind him like the tail of a comet.
The burning blade of his sword roared as the flames that came from it grew brighter and brighter as he closed the distance between them.
Isha turned to face him, and he could now see the shifting beneath her skin as she prepared to intercept him again with the wooden self-sacrificing bindings, but it was his turn to see through her tricks.
If this were the immaterium, the same symbolism of self-sacrifice could have been used, for that realm was truly composed of thoughts and dreams. However, in the materium, no matter how effective the symbol was at its purpose, there was a physical limit to the material it was expressed with.
The Aeldari goddess grimaced, and the shifting beneath her skin withdrew.
The Emperor sneered at her.
The wood that exploded from her body would not stop him now. He traveled too quickly and with too much mass. The moment she tried to intercept him with that same trick, he would smash right through whatever branch or root she could produce and impale her in the same motion.
As the Emperor's blade streaked towards Isha, her burning hands slammed down on the flats of the blade, spewing glowing green and brown smoke from her hands as the flames ate through the flesh and bone of her fingers. But, she was still able to catch the blade centimeters before it punched through her breast. Psychic energies sparked and cracked as she attempted to push back the spread of the Emperor's spell with raw psychic power.
The two of them streaked through the ash clouds of the planet below them, appearing as a green brown shooting star with a golden tail.
Storm winds howled around them as they penetrated the upper atmosphere, gray ash turning orange at their passing from the heat of the friction they generated that burned the very air around them.
The Emperor's blade slowly started to slip from Isha's grasp, drawing closer and closer to her heart.
Then, the flames surrounding Isha's arms suddenly gutted out. The charred flesh and bones regrew themselves, restoring the white pearly skin of her arms and the soft smooth fingers of her hands. When her nails reformed, the Emperor felt something repel him, just like magnets of the same polarity push each other apart.
There was a thin glow of gold at the very tip of each of her nails, and it was these that now grasped the blade of his sword.
Such a weak grasp should not have been able to push back against his blow, but the blade refused to budge an inch while it was held between her 10 nails.
The Emperor looked up at Isha's face and his blood ran cold.
A wide eyed bare toothed grin stared back at him, like the smile of a wolf before an orphaned shivering lamb.
Ancient instincts honed by fighting the Bull of Heaven and countless other monstrosities screamed inside the Emperor's mind, and he swung his sword sending Isha flying off to the side.
Then, all sound disappeared as he suddenly accelerated towards the ground.
The air resistance that was the only thing that slowed his fall had gone, along with the atmosphere around him. Isha had pulled all of it away, and now he was falling faster than ever with nothing to stop him but the hard ground that was rushing up to him.
He reached out with his psychic touch to annul her grasp on the air around them, but quickly pulled back and instead surrounded himself in the strongest psychic barrier he could muster.
He was now in the center of a giant vacuum, equivalent to being at the epicenter of a gigantic primed Krak grenade. If he undid Isha's control, the vacuum would close upon him in a devastating shockwave that would pass right through his armor and liquify his insides.
But, Isha wouldn't wait for the Emperor to set off the bomb he was now inside. She would surely strike first.
Not a moment after he had that thought, a hammer of air slammed into his barrier from above. Isha had opened the top of the vacuum chamber she had created, and all the air that had been removed was now screaming down at him, shoving him towards the ground faster and faster.
The Emperor reinforced the barrier, his body, and his armor as he hurtled to the ground and struck it with meteoric force; sending dust clouds several hundred meters into the air with an explosion that cracked and cratered the volcanic rock most of the planet's crust was made of.
The remaining air displaced by Isha rushed in to swiftly disperse the ash and dust of the impact, leaving only the Emperor in the crater his landing had created.
Slowly, he rose to his feet and began to walk out of the concave hole he had made, only to stumble and land on one knee.
His eyes sparked as his physical form started to shift once again from male to female, old to young, race to race.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Isha said gently as she landed in a gust of wind, sitting down leisurely on the ledge of the crater above the Emperor.
"Powerful as that ability may be, using it has several risks that you should be well aware of." Isha rested her cheek on one hand as she looked down upon the ever shifting Emperor. "Should you stop your feet now, there is no assurance you will start from where you were, or even start again at all."
The Emperor glared at her with a feminine face before switching to one of an old arab.
"I always wondered what sort of god you were." She chuckled. "In hindsight, there were many clues. The impression you left on all your followers. Your self-righteous nature. The rejection of all that you see as unholy. I even understand why you found my song so painful to listen to."
The Goddess of Life hummed a small section of her song, and giggled girlishly as the Emperor grit his teeth and shifted into several other people rapidly as the discord within it increased.
"Your path is but one possibility among the many ways life can wander." Isha spoke quietly, her voice melodious and echoing as all Aeldari voices do. "You walk blindly upon it, always wondering whether things could be different, but never able to see what could have been."
The Empress glared at Isha, white teeth bared as her soft feminine features twisted with rage, glowering at the goddess with eyes wet with unspilled tears.
"It must be painful to hear all of what could have been in my song. To see and feel the peace that could have been yours if you simply chose to live a different life."
Isha sighed, and sat up right; looking down at the feminine Master of Mankind with cold regal eyes.
"But, you had no choice but to walk the painful path you did. No one else would, and no one else could. Even when you finally left the mortal realm and became a being of the Sea of Souls, you could not stop yourself from trying to save them. But, being a god means to define both what is and what isn't your Truth."
A slow smile crossed Isha's face.
"I see why they call you the Anathema..."
Neonth
First King of Uruk
Saint
Specimen D-001
The names and titles she called him were said all at the same time, overlaid upon each other yet simultaneously individually identifiable, truly revealing to the Emperor what exactly she had done to him and taken from him.
"You once pronounced to know the end of my path, God of Heroes." Isha said quietly. "Allow me to prophesize the end of your legend in return."