He sighed, frustratioched on his face. Once again, his thoughts circled back to the same question with no answer. He couldn’t uand the Eldar, couldn’t make sense of their motives.

  Dropping his lho-stick to the ground, he crushed it under his boot, grinding it into the dirt. There was no point dwelling on it. He o get to the sanctuary and hand over the information he’d gathered. Let the analysts back at the Inquisition figure it out. He had done his part.

  Still, as he walked into the town, a chill ran down his spihe Inquisitor stepped into the hiddeer, his boots squelg as they sank into the blood pooled across the floor. The crimson tide was so thick it nearly covered his ankles. Bodies were sprawled in every dire, their lifeless eyes staring into nothingness, their faces frozen in expressions of disbelief and terror. The air was heavy with the metallic stench of blood ah—everyone here was dead.

  At the ter of the room, a young man with a muscur build was tied to a desk. His body, battered and scarred, resembled a frog strapped to a disseg table. Standing before him was a slender figure cloaked in dark fabric. The figure’s hood obscured their face, but a small scalpel glinted in their hand. With uling grace, they sliced off a thin piece of flesh from the man's shoulder, as if perf a delicate art.

  “Four hundred and ohe cloaked figure said crisply. Her voice was light and clear, but it was underscored by the shrill, broken screams of the young man strapped to the table. His agony echoed through the dark chamber. As his cries faltered into hasps, she tilted her head thoughtfully.“Effit, but not optimal. Their resilience is impressive, though crude. I need more time.”

  The inquisitor inhaled sharply, steadying himself before speaking in a cold, measured tone. “Who are you?”

  The figure turoward him with nguid grace, a mog smile curling on her lips. Her movements were impossibly fluid, a predator cloaked iy. She offered an exaggerated, theatrical bow, her shadow stretg like a spider across the bloodstained floor. “Allow me to introduce myself,” she purred, her voice dripping with cruel amusement. “I am Rosina, Farseer of Aitoc. Your kind call us Eldar—though you are not worthy of the name. What you are is insignifit, a you have crossed into our affairs.”

  The inquisitor chose his words carefully, hoping to buy time. “I’ve gone by many names, but hat would mean anything to you. I’m simply one among thousands who serve the Imperium.”

  Rosina chuckled, a sound as uling as it was melodic. She reached up and pulled back her hood, revealing a face of stunniy. Her features were strikingly human, save for her pointed ears and the almost hypnotic elegan her every gesture. But what uled the inquisitor most were her eyes—a traadness flickered within them, sharp and uing.

  She g the inquisitor standing by the door and shook her head as though pitying him. “Humans truly are strange creatures. Your names mean nothing to me, a you offer them anyway. You uand your insignifice, a you still insist to prove otherwise. Look at him.” She gestured at the young man strapped to the desk. “Four hundred and two. Another pitiful scream. Don’t you uand your fate? You’re all just prey—born lowly, destio die lowly. Your doom in this er of the gaxy was decided long before you arrived.”

  The inquisitor’s voice was steady but tinged with frustration. “I don’t uand. Our peoples once fought side by side. On Cadia, your warriors and ours stood together against the forces of Chaos. Why have the Eldar turheir bdes on former allies?”

  “Allies?” Rosi out a derisive ugh. “You speak of Ulthwé’s misguided pact, their hopeless crusade alongside your dying Imperium. We Aitos have never shared such delusions.”

  “Even so,” the inquisitor pressed, his gaze hardening, “why torment our soldiers like this?” He poi the man oable, who had begun to moan weakly. “If his skills were inferior, the him and end it. But this? This is barbaric.”

  “Torment?” Rosina’s gaze turned icy, her voice calm but cutting. “No. This is not torment—it is y. Knowledge demands sacrifice, ah is but aep in the cycle. I seek uanding, not pleasure. The mon-keigh must learn to fear what they ot prehend.” Her lips curled into a cruel smile as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And yes, let this be a warning. We does not tolerate meddling in our affairs.”

  “A warning?”

  “Yes.” Rosina’s voice carried an almost reverent tone. “I brih and leave behind bones. Even your kind uand that warning. You humans should never have set foot on the world you call Eden 5.”

  The inquisitor’s brows furrowed in fusion. “Eden 5? That’s an uninhabited p!”

  Rosina’s expression turned cold. “It is our world. We may not dwell on it now, but it is still ours.”

  The inquisitor struggled to suppress his rising ahe arrogance of the Eldar was infuriating. But her words sparked a realization. The strange movements of Craftworld Aitoc—their raids, their warnings—it all tered on Eden 5.Maiden worlds were rare jewels in the vast, inhospitable expanse of space. Lush, pristine, and teeming with life, they offered an enviro so perfect for human survival it was almost mythical. A single Maiden world could sustain tless geions, providing food, water, and shelter without effort.

  “Eden 5 is under Imperial trol,” the inquisitor said finally, his voice steady. “Our forces are already establishing ies there. This,” he gestured to the age around him, “is preparation for war, isn’t it? You’re pnning to recim it.”Rosina’s lips curled into a slow smile. “Perhaps. Or perhaps this is simply the beginniher way, the message is clear—you should never have e.”

  "ell, enough has been said. I’m tired of you," Rosina said, her voice tinged with mockery. "Besides, what’s the point of you w about these things? I’m just the messenger. No matter what you’ve done or what you pn to do, we both know there’s no er of the gaxy that escape the gaze of Eldar’s rangers."

  A sly smile spread across Rosina’s face as she raised her hand with lightning speed. In an instant, she drew a shuriken pistol, a but deadly on, and pulled the trigger.

  The Inquisitor, didn’t let his guard down for even a moment, but Rosina’s speed was unnatural—far beyond human capability. He only mao raise his hand in a futile attempt to shield his face before a storm of monomolecur discs shot out, slig through him with ease. A heartbeat ter, the Inquisitor was nothing more than a pile of flesh and shattered bone. Blood pooled around the remains, spilling freely onto the ground.

  Rosina watched the colpse of the human body with somethiween fasation and delight. Her lips parted slightly as she licked them, sav the primal thrill c through her veins. No matter how many times she witnessed such a sight, it always awakened a beastly, almost untrolble impulse within her.