Isha's armor fell apart as she fell from the Sea of Souls, upwards into the Great Rift in space-time.
Bitterness and anger raged in her breast as winds of warp energy propelled her into the materium.
She watched as the scar turned purple, and the smokey trails of loose Warp energy turned into massive hungry tendrils of the Warp consumed entire planets; smothering worlds in the thick smog of suffering and Chaos that it has become.
One of the tendrils took notice of her, and approached with the illusion of slowness created by its interstellar size.
Even now, she saw gas giants and their satellite rings of moons fall through the tendril, consumed in seconds; showing the sheer scale of the monstrosity and the speed at which it moved.
Twisting away from it in the semi-real space that now existed between the materim and immaterium on the border of the Eye of Terror, Isha thought furiously as to where she could go.
The Webway was one option, but in the dark space between the stars, no portals were available for her to enter its labyrinthian walls.
The Warp was no escape; the equivalent of running down dark alleys of sin infested cities while shadowy stalkers followed at every corner. At best, it would be a treacherous run through horror and nightmare. At worst, it would be a desperate last stand followed by eternal torment.
Isha grimaced as a third option passed through her mind.
It would be painful; and a great shame that admitted her powerlessness. However, at the very least it would throw off her pursuers, and buy time for her to consider her options.
With a twirl of her finger, the Goddess changed the direction of her fall; onto a familiar desert planet where ancient foes had sought to undo them all.
'The dark pylons of the Necron should hold back the Warp to some degree.' Isha thought to herself as she approached the dead desert planet, before laughing to herself. 'To think that the weapons that were made to kill all that lived provide me with the opportunity to survive.'
It was a cruel irony. Necron pylons were the blackstone weapons built with the intention of stripping her and her allies of their greatest advantage, the magics of the Sea of Souls. A bitter irony in itself, for it was Vaul who forged the first blackstone alloys in his mighty forge; providing the materials for the construction of his Six Talismans of Vaul that decimated Necron starships and Star Gods alike.
Having stolen many stores of her allies' treasures, the Necron in turn mixed the psycho-active blackstone with their own deadly technology; converting entire solar systems into mobile barriers to push back the interstellar armies of her psychic children, and their even more powerful Old One overlords.
Flashes of green lightning followed by torrents of emerald energy struck out from gauss lightning arrays and particle whips; all positioned behind the detestable resonance generated by these Dark Pylons that echoed with others of similar make on other dead planets orbiting dead stars. Unfearful of the psychic repercussions that would usually follow, they fired again and again; shredding void ships apart, spilling the bodies of her children and their allies into the cold dark space.
Now, unpowered and unmaintained, with many of the once desiccated worlds restored by Isha's own hands, and many more by the hands of her mortal children, this one planet's pylons should not bar her from entering.
It would however, serve as a temporary ward against the far more disorganized essence of the Warp and Chaos.
Isha gathered all the energies that remained inside her, and prepared to penetrate the Dark Pylon's field, purple tendril slowly swallowing planets behind her.
Pain hit her as she hit the anti-psychic field. Nerve endings fried, as what felt like baleful electricity criss crossed her skin. Through gritted teeth, Isha forced herself forwards, and began to reinforce her body to prepare for planetary impact.
Behind her the tendril swayed, suddenly having lost sight of its prey, the barrier hiding Isha's divine essence; like thick rain washing away scent. So it returned to the Aeldari coreworlds, to suffuse more souls in the Warp's sadistic suffering.
Isha woke upon the planet's surface. Pain covered her; partially from the ever present pylon field, but also from the force of her landing. She looked back at the crumbling mountain top she had punched through, as well as the long trail of superheated sand she had left when she had skidded to a stop. Only her perfect skin and hair had protected her, remains of clothing and armor mostly gone.
With a sigh, she sang thin Wraithbone into a simple shift. Although a refugee, her race's pride prevented her from walking across even this supposedly dead planet with no one to see her in the nude.
Climbing out of the crater she had left, she shook her head. The pylons passive presence messed with her mind and Warp sight, randomly dimming and blurring as her essence pushed back against the field's suffocating presence.
She stumbled as her vision lost focus.
'My children…' she thought, suddenly understanding where the dizzy spell came from.
The Aeldari were dying across their Core worlds, and with every death her power waned. The consumption of their souls by She who Thirsts, drained her; like an open bleeding wound.
Clutching her stomach, she collapsed into the dry sand, and curled into a ball; weeping.
'Mother of the Aeldari' she thought bitterly. 'What mother runs from the monsters that consume their children.' But there was nothing she could do for them; only weep as she heard them suffer and cry, even though all of this was nothing but karmic retribution.
As the tears touched the surface of the sand, small brown plants began to grow; the precursor to desert weeds to provide shade and suck moisture trapped deep beneath the ground, the very beginnings of terraforming this dead planet.
Looking at the plant with blurry eyes, Isha sniffled, before climbing to her feet once more.
'I am sorry.' She thought, both to the plant and her children. They both had a harsh destiny ahead of them, but there was no choice for either of them. They would either overcome it or die. Whether it be from drying out in this desert, or extinction at daemonic hands.
'I must move on.' Turning away from the plant, Isha focussed on her Warp sight once more.
This planet hid her presence, but Chaos would eventually come. It would be easy for a mortal mind to calculate her vector and speed to determine the star-system she landed in. Even for the chronically insane minds of Chaos, Tzeentch at the very least would eventually determine where she was.
Searching for a Webway gate, Isha walked on through the sand flowing between her toes and over her bare feet. Harsh sun and heat, reflected off of her pearly skin; like natural sunscreen.
Day and night she walked, above the Dark Pylons buried beneath the sand, under the small moon and dual-sun of this harsh land; all throughout hearing the voices of the damned.
On the 10th day, Isha collapsed. Her Warpsight had cleared somewhat, thanks to the wards she remembered using during the War in Heaven, but the mental strain and fruitlessness of her search had drained her mind and soul of all their energies.
As she lay in the sand, barely breathing, a faint burst of binaric static sounded from beyond the dunes, followed by the sound of heavy boosts wading through shifting sands.