Sydria’s expression hardened as she began. “Rosina Sha'eilnis, my former sister in arms… my only sister, in fact. She was the brightest star of Aitoc, 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.”

  Sydria 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 rea times are unmatched. Ordinary humans ’t even track us in bat.”

  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 tinue, or would you prefer to interrupt again?”

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

  Sydria resumed. “We are born with psioniergy, the core of our civilization. It allows us to el immense power, but it es with a cost. Unlike humans, our emotions are heightened—joy, despair, love, hatred… every feeling is maghe thrill of battle, the satisfa of mastering a skill, the pleasure of beauty—these all bee intoxig.”

  Kayvaan crossed his arms, his skepticism obvious. “So you’re saying your emotions kill you?”

  “Not metaphorically, no,” Sydria said, her tone somber. “Our aors fell victim to their indulgehey reveled in excess, and from their hedonism, the Chaos God Sanesh was born—the Lady of Thirst, the destroyer of our race. When she emerged, she ed 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 st 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.

  Sydria nodded. “Yes. To avoid falling into depravity, every Eldar dedicates themselves to a single discipline, a sih. It bees their life’s focus, suppressing their baser instincts. These paths guide us away from the temptation of excess and prevent Sanesh from g our souls.”

  She hesitated before tinuing, 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 ons, turning fme into her ally otlefield. 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 proficy with heavy onry, rainih 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.”

  Kayvaa out a low whistle. “She sounds like a one-woman army.”

  “She was,” Sydria admitted. “But her brilliance wasn’t limited to the battlefield. Rosina was kind, gentle—a bea of what ire to be. I ’t fathom how she fell, yet she did. Sanesh has cimed her, twisting her into a tool for Chaos. She seeks to open a rift, allowing Serapheas to flood into this world. Her path has bee one of destru, and now, she is reatest enemy.” Sydria’s voice broke slightly as she finished. “For us Eldar, there is nothing more terrifying than corruption. It is a fate worse thah, the loss of our very souls to Sanesh. Rosina must be stopped. No matter how painful it is to fight one of our own, we ot allow her to succeed.”

  Kayvaan poio the faint rift iy h above them, its edges shimmering like fractured gss. “So, this is Rosina’s doing?”

  Sydria’s expression darkened. “Yes, her handiwork. It began as a spiracy. Some time ago, I received a message from Rosina. She cimed she was losing trol, that her desires aions had bee 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 wao die by my hand, to spe moments in her sister’s arms.”

  Kayvaan's eyes narrowed. “She lied.”

  “She did,” Sydria admitted bitterly. “But the message wasirely false. Rumors had already begun to spread. Rosina had beetag humalements indiscriminately—sometimes sughtering civilians, other times targeting Imperial officials. No one paid much attention at first; skirmishes between Eldar and the Imperium are on, 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 iwisted pleasure she could extract from their suffering. For her, killing wasn’t duty or even sport. It ure, urained joy.”

  Kayvaan thought back to the video Elizabeth had shown him during his jouro the Far East. The footage of an Eldar t 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... souly like what I saw. An Eldar killed an official on record—skinned him alive and worse. Her name was mentioned.”

  Sydria’s lips tightened into a grim lihat must have been Rosina. My people do not usually torture enemies. It serves no purpose. But Rosina... she’s been fully cimed by the depravity of Sanesh. 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 i was not to let us end her suffering. No, she lured us here to kill us.”

  Kayvaan g the shimmering rift again. “And this altar she set up? What’s its purpose?”

  “She’s created a Chaos altar on this p, using a psychic array powered by ritual sacrifice. Her pn is to kill us and use our blood and souls to fuel a ritual. If successful, the rift above us will stabilize, being a full-fledged gateway. Ohat happens, Chaos Serapheas will pour through, and this world will bee a pyground for their kind.”

  Kayvaan scoffed. “This world? It’s a backwater. Hardly seems like a prize worth taking.”

  Sydria gave him a tired look. “It’s not the pself. It’s what the rift represents—a foothold for Chaos. We ot allow it to happen. But Rosina chose this battlefield ahe trap. Escape is not an option. If it were, we would have fled long ago. No one from Aitoc 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.”