It was the clinking of chains that woke Isha next, and for one panicked moment, she feared she had been captured by the mortal agents of Chaos.

However, the binaric static that came from around her quickly told her otherwise.

Keeping her eyes closed, she felt out from herself, grasping the dimensions of the room she was in.

It was made of metal, and very dark. Gears turned and thick pipes shook with the rushing sound of promethium flowing through them. Steam whished from unknown contraptions; covered in gears, levers, buttons, and the half-mechanical skull of the Mechanicus.

'Mon-keigh fanatics' She mentally huffed. A better captor than she had feared, but equally hostile.

Heavy chains bound her arms and upper torso to a cross shaped slab held up against the wall; hardly the welcoming preparations given to a guest. Heavy blast doors kept the room shut, and two white robed figures clinked and clacked across the floor, waving the mechanical tentacles they called mechadendrites around picking up various broken instruments such as circular saws, laser cutters, and plasma torches.

The blast doors clanked, and internal locking mechanisms unbound from each other, as the massive gears on the door spun; whether it was decorative or for practical purposes, Isha could not say.

As the doors opened, a third robed figure entered the room, and the blast doors slammed shut immediately behind her.

Binaric static filled the room once more, and Isha reached out to their minds to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Their method of communication was strange, always with an identifier, and very little respect for the common gothic grammar their species often shared. A strange mish-mash of mathematics, scientific jargon, and religious references; almost a reflection of what their culture was.

Quartermaster Xhal: Risk assessment result requested.

Magos Khmash: Risk assessment overturned. Unrecorded nature of subject = Potential for new information on Xeno species. Classified Eldari. All risks Acquisition of new samples.

Xenobiologis Tirevola: Recovery possible by Class F servitors. Therefore, nascent risk of target deemed to be 0.0000000001%

Quartermaster Xhal: Addendum, recovery possible by only Class F servitors. All other partial or non-lobotomized servitors and Skitari report neotenic regression in mental state. 45 mind wipes were carried out, increasing task flow by 32% past daily median. Request reassessment of effect on servitor, Skitari maintenance efficiency and propose re-schedule of vivisection to post-mortem dissection.

Xenobiologis Tirevola: Request denied. Servitor, Skitari maintenance = class 10 process. Canticle 3.251 of Maintenance Hymn Version 45112. "Decrease importance of task = Decreased necessity to improve until loss of efficiency Rate of acquisition of information from new Xeno sample."

Quartermaster Xhal: Parsing quote… String association within local cogitation network… [[[Error]]] File not Found. Inference: Quote has been truncated through intended or accidental omission. Suggestion: downgrade importance of all further suggestions from Xenobiologis Tirevola using multiplier of 0.05.

Xenobiologis Tirevola: Insult detected: 0.05 = communication priority of Class D servitor with only 25% of original brain matter and 0 cogitation augmetics.

Quartermaster Xhal: Warning: Statement does not generate sufficient task importance to cogitate response. Automated binary warning sent: Reformat cogitation banks and recalculate statement importance before decreasing unit efficiency through repeated binary communication requests. Failure to comply = Reprocessing of augmetics for decorative functions due to inferred inherent production fault. Therefore, probability for successful augmetic recycling = 0.0005

Magos Khmash: Enough. Reset all binary communication priorities to default values according to standard communication protocol. Psychic interference requiring all operating teams working on subject to have undergone either total lobotomization or compartmentalization of emotional sensors into cogitation vault is identified as subject risk for target. Counter point: The path laid by the Omnissiah is not an easy one. Risk has been noted, but potential information has been deemed to outweigh risk. All future binary discussions will now be prioritized towards cogitation of vivisection methodology for subject.

Quartermaster Xhal: Resetting cogitation priorities. By the will of the Omnissiah.

Xenobiologis Tirevola: May knowledge show the path forwards. Suggestion 1: assemble neuro-sympathetic link to trauma cogitation vault. Quote: "Know thy enemy as thy self." Greatest method of knowing the enemy = empathy. Therefore, empathetic attachment to subject nervous system during vivisection = highest efficiency method for data extraction from target.

Quartermaster Xhal: Usage of neuro-sympathetic link documented to decrease unit personal negative feedback response by [Data Redacted]. Additional documentation suggests 30% increase in unit wear and a 50% increase in time spent for maintenance leading to a net decrease in user optimization. Addendum: Quote not found.

Magos Khmash: Agreed, projected required increase in data quality exceeds statistically probable outcome. Previous records also provide data that, on average, decrease in subject survival times by 40±5% upon use of neuro-sympathetic link. Current subject importance dictates best course of action would be to increase survival time for longest period of data acquisition.

Xenobiologis Tirevola: Usage of data acquired from neuro-sympathetic increases personal unit serotonin levels by median of 250%. Increased motivation = increased efficiency in subject preparation and future data acquisition tasks.

Quartermaster Xhal: Inquiry: has usage of neuro-sympathetically acquired data been confirmed to be addictive.

Xenobiologis Tirevola: [[[Error]]] Inquiry has been deemed to infer on unit worth and faith in the Machine God. Response not generated.

Magos Khmash: Xenobiologis Tirevola, command priority 5-499. Submit to full functional reassessment once current subject vivisection schedule has been completed.

Xenobiologis Tirevola: Understood. All responses withheld until full functional reassessment has been completed. Switching mechadendrites to remote manipulation.

Quartermaster Xhal: Magos Khmash, primary reports indicate dermis of subject and cranial follicles were resistant to standard vivisection equipment. This behavior is not reported in previous subjects. Possible explanation?

Magos Khmash: Osseous samples of previous Eldar subjects reported to be several times stronger than plausible from material construction. Similar trait plausible to be extended to other tissues in some individuals.

Quartermaster Xhal: If dermal intrusion = impossible. Then alternative method of intrusion possible is through mucosal membranes. Key targets; oral cavity, nasal membrane, oculi, colon, and genitalia.

Magos Khmash: Latter two options are undesirable. Increase in necessary post operation cleansing rituals should be avoided.

Quartermaster Xhal: Expression of personal relief. Options provided in preferred order of attempts. Personal note: removal of colon and genitalia logged as greatest gift from the Machine God in personal maintenance logs.

Magos Khmash: Similar description found in personal logs. Conjecture: increase in comfort level of subject during procedure leads to minor increase in subject survival time. Therefore, removal of colon and genitalia first = increase survival time for subject?

Quartermaster Xhal: Negative. Log 311510 indicates removal of subject genitalia generated great distress and almost immediate expiry of subject due to shock.

Magos Khmash: Unfortunate. Then the procedure begins with the oral cavity. Prepare for cauterization of tongue and removal of dental protrusions.

Xenobiologis Tirevola: Breach of previous statement made due to change in subject eye movement. Vivisection target is awake.

Isha chuckled to herself, ruse found out as the three augmented Mon-keigh turned towards her.

"Identify yourself and purpose." Demanded the one labeled Magos Khmash as it barked at her in a synthetic voice.

"You demand to know what I am?" She spoke quietly as the rage built inside her from listening to how casually they spoke of brutalizing her children.

As her eyes began to emit a silvery glow, a long forgotten feeling of terror grew in the Tech Priests' mechanically enhanced minds, even with the emotional cogitators physically holding apart brain matter from synapse; preventing the electric signals that would have formed fear.

"Then know me you shall." Her head rose, and the chains binding her creaked and groaned as they snapped apart from a flex of her limbs.

"I am the mother of murdered children. Inheritor of a stolen birthright. The winds and waters of worlds birthed the beings which swam and strode across them at my command."

"I am witness to the War in Heaven. Victim of foolish laws and the Lord of Murder. Betrayer of my uncle and the King of Gods."

"I am the consort of the hunt. Mother to dreams. The daughter of two deities of death. Now, hear the cry that drove my father's blade into my mother's arm!"

Raw awful knowledge rushed into the mind, as the keening wail of the goddess washed over them.

Life, and the place of all creatures within its great cycle, was revealed.

They could see it now, the strands that tied their own mortal fire to the smallest embers in an ant, and where their ashes would go when the final flame died.

To hear her voice was to know one's place in the universe. To see the smallness of all that encompassed their being, and the beauty of belonging to the eternal taking and giving of that which animated them all.

When Isha's voice ended, all that stood before her collapsed; mind and mechanical substitutes, burned out by divine knowledge. Broken were their dreams of grandeur, their faith in the Omnissiah, as the bitter truth of life as they had always instinctually known it; the sheer meaninglessness of their struggle in the grand scheme of things, permeated their every thought.

For in their glazed, opened eyes; the smallest gnat was of equal importance to the very leaders' they had pledged allegiance to. And the damnation of the Goddess of Life robbed them of all their mortal pursuits, for to know the sufferings of the sickest slave, snuffed out all the taste and odors of the finest wines gifted by the greatest lords.

Isha slumped forward, torn chains rattling to the floor, panting with exertion and self-loathing. Cursing mortals was abhorrent to her; even those not under her protection. Furthermore, that cry did not end within this room. Across the planet, servitors, slaves, and Skitarii buckled to their knees while the Tech Priests' binary babbling fell silent in their noosphere as her voice wracked the local Warp.

The Four would surely take notice, no matter how strong the pylons of the Necrons were.

Though her curse had neutered the populace's Warp presence to the point where they could not provide sustenance to the Four, they would provide pitiful protection against the mortal agents of Chaos.

Shaking off the remaining shackles, Isha strode past her slumped captors. The sight of them sickened her, for though it was her curse that brought them low, she hated it. Life was not meant to be lived like this. For as much as what she had shown was the truth, true life was always oblivious to it. No predator would kill a prey if it felt its own teeth pierce its own skin. No tree would drink from the dirt with the knowledge that they were feeding on the fecal matter and corpses of other plants and animals. This was a truth she was supposed to shoulder, not them.

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips, as the thick blast doors bent beneath her fingers, before she wrenched them out of her way.

She had to hurry. Whether it was by Warp or Webway, she needed to leave. Although she may have damned this world to her pursuers, all would be lost if she were captured.

Then she felt a great golden heat open in the void. The blazing glow of a burning star, scouring the very Warp of all its denizens as it passed. Her wide eyes gazed up into the inky sky, just in time to see the faint flash of a closing warp portal; a brief purple glow among the far brighter stars.

A growing sense of dread approached. Visions of grim death and necessary suffering flashed across her mind, as the burning man-shaped thing came towards her in a massive gold and red Void Ship. A ship so far away that it could not be seen by the naked eye, yet fully in rage of the batteries of guns that lined either side; capable of penetrating the crust of planets.

The Anathema came, and she could not run. For in its awful glory, the very Warp receded at its touch. The faint feeling of the Webway was washed away, only to be replaced with golden walls and wards of righteous hate and conviction.

Isha's Warp sight crossed with the Emperor of Mankind's; both of their brow's furrowed. Then, with a great bitterness in her heart, she bit her lip and bowed her head and knee.

'To struggle free from one set of chains; only to dive into the bindings of another.' Isha thought to herself 'Surely, Cegorach would have found this most amusing.'