Warhammer 40k : Space Marine Kayvaan

Syladria's expression hardened as she began. "Rosina Sha'eillanis, my former sister in arms… my only sister, in fact. She was the brightest star of Alaitoc, a genius among our people. She walked many paths with ease: Fire Dragon, Howling Banshee, Dark Reaper, Shining Spear, Ranger, even Farseer."

Kayvaan frowned, interrupting her flow. "Those words mean nothing to me. Fire Dragon? Howling Banshee? Sounds like something out of a bad holo-drama. All I know is you're rangers."

Syladria sighed, her irritation showing. "Typical human ignorance. Allow me to educate you. We, the Eldar, are superior to your kind in every way. Smarter, faster, and more refined. Our hearts beat twice as quickly as yours, and our reaction times are unmatched. Ordinary humans can't even track us in combat."

Kayvaan smirked. "I nearly slit your throat a few moments ago."

Her expression didn't waver. "You're no ordinary human. Even so, the basics I'm sharing should prove valuable to you. Would you like me to continue, or would you prefer to interrupt again?"

"Go ahead," Kayvaan replied with a shrug, though his patience was wearing thin.

Syladria resumed. "We are born with psionic energy, the core of our civilization. It allows us to channel immense power, but it comes with a cost. Unlike humans, our emotions are heightened—joy, despair, love, hatred… every feeling is magnified. The thrill of battle, the satisfaction of mastering a skill, the pleasure of beauty—these can all become intoxicating."

Kayvaan crossed his arms, his skepticism obvious. "So you're saying your emotions can kill you?"

"Not metaphorically, no," Syladria said, her tone somber. "Our ancestors fell victim to their indulgences. They reveled in excess, and from their hedonism, the Chaos God Slaanesh was born—the Lady of Thirst, the destroyer of our race. When she emerged, she consumed most of our people's souls. Only a few of us, the exiles, escaped. But she hunts us still, and we fight to resist her, to survive until either she is destroyed or the last Eldar breathes their final breath."

"And this… corruption you speak of, it's why your people follow these so-called paths?" Kayvaan asked, intrigued despite himself.

Syladria nodded. "Yes. To avoid falling into depravity, every Eldar dedicates themselves to a single discipline, a single path. It becomes their life's focus, suppressing their baser instincts. These paths guide us away from the temptation of excess and prevent Slaanesh from claiming our souls."

She hesitated before continuing, her voice tinged with sorrow. "Rosina Windwhisper was a master of many paths. The Path of the Fire Dragon made her a master of melta weapons, turning flame into her ally on the battlefield. As a Howling Banshee, her dual swords cut through enemies with ease, her war cry capable of disorienting even the most disciplined foe. The Path of the Dark Reaper gave her unmatched proficiency with heavy weaponry, raining death from afar. As a Shining Spear, she soared above the battlefield, striking with unparalleled speed. And as a Ranger, she was a ghost in the shadows, impossible to track."

Kayvaan let out a low whistle. "She sounds like a one-woman army."

"She was," Syladria admitted. "But her brilliance wasn't limited to the battlefield. Rosina was kind, gentle—a beacon of what we aspire to be. I can't fathom how she fell, yet she did. Slaanesh has claimed her, twisting her into a tool for Chaos. She seeks to open a warp rift, allowing Serapheas to flood into this world. Her path has become one of destruction, and now, she is our greatest enemy." Syladria's voice broke slightly as she finished. "For us Eldar, there is nothing more terrifying than corruption. It is a fate worse than death, the loss of our very souls to Slaanesh. Rosina must be stopped. No matter how painful it is to fight one of our own, we cannot allow her to succeed."

Kayvaan pointed to the faint rift in reality hovering above them, its edges shimmering like fractured glass. "So, this is Rosina's doing?"

Syladria's expression darkened. "Yes, her handiwork. It began as a conspiracy. Some time ago, I received a message from Rosina. She claimed she was losing control, that her desires and emotions had become like a wild beast freed from its cage. She said she was on an irreversible path to corruption and begged me to kill her. She wanted to die by my hand, to spend her last moments in her sister's arms."

Kayvaan's eyes narrowed. "She lied."

"She did," Syladria admitted bitterly. "But the message wasn't entirely false. Rumors had already begun to spread. Rosina had been seen attacking human settlements indiscriminately—sometimes slaughtering civilians, other times targeting Imperial officials. No one paid much attention at first; skirmishes between Eldar and the Imperium are common, and human lives mean little in the grand scheme. But this wasn't ordinary killing. She didn't simply destroy her targets—she tortured them, indulging in every twisted pleasure she could extract from their suffering. For her, killing wasn't duty or even sport. It was pure, unrestrained joy."

Kayvaan thought back to the video Elizabeth had shown him during his journey to the Far East. The footage of an Eldar torturing an Imperial official still haunted him. The victim had been carved into a thousand pieces while still alive, and the act was as grotesque as it was erotic—a horrific blend of sadism and perversion. "That... sounds exactly like what I saw. An Eldar killed an official on record—skinned him alive and worse. Her name was mentioned."

Syladria's lips tightened into a grim line. "That must have been Rosina. My people do not usually torture enemies. It serves no purpose. But Rosina... she's been fully claimed by the depravity of Slaanesh. Her soul has been twisted into a mockery of what she once was. Much of what she said in her message was true. But her intent was not to let us end her suffering. No, she lured us here to kill us."

Kayvaan glanced at the shimmering rift again. "And this altar she set up? What's its purpose?"

"She's created a Chaos altar on this planet, using a psychic array powered by ritual sacrifice. Her plan is to kill us and use our blood and souls to fuel a ritual. If successful, the warp rift above us will stabilize, becoming a full-fledged gateway. Once that happens, Chaos Serapheas will pour through, and this world will become a playground for their kind."

Kayvaan scoffed. "This world? It's a backwater. Hardly seems like a prize worth taking."

Syladria gave him a tired look. "It's not the planet itself. It's what the rift represents—a foothold for Chaos. We cannot allow it to happen. But Rosina chose this battlefield and set the trap. Escape is not an option. If it were, we would have fled long ago. No one from Alaitoc would willingly face her. Even if I had the strength to defeat her, I wouldn't know if killing her or being killed by her is the worse fate."

"Yet here you are," Kayvaan observed. "Still alive. That's something."