LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 44: Rosina
He sighed, frustration etched on his face. Once again, his thoughts circled back to the same question with no answer. He couldn't understand 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 needed to 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 spine. The Inquisitor stepped into the hidden shelter, his boots squelching 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 direction, 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 and death—everyone here was dead.
At the center of the room, a young man with a muscular build was tied to a desk. His body, battered and scarred, resembled a frog strapped to a dissecting 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 unsettling grace, they sliced off a thin piece of flesh from the man's shoulder, as if performing a delicate art.
"Four hundred and one," the 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 hoarse gasps, she tilted her head thoughtfully."Efficient, 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 turned toward him with languid grace, a mocking smile curling on her lips. Her movements were impossibly fluid, a predator cloaked in beauty. She offered an exaggerated, theatrical bow, her shadow stretching 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 Alaitoc. Your kind call us Eldar—though you are not worthy of the name. What you are is insignificant, and yet you have crossed into our affairs."
The inquisitor chose his words carefully, hoping to buy time. "I've gone by many names, but none that would mean anything to you. I'm simply one among thousands who serve the Imperium."
Rosina chuckled, a sound as unsettling as it was melodic. She reached up and pulled back her hood, revealing a face of stunning beauty. Her features were strikingly human, save for her pointed ears and the almost hypnotic elegance in her every gesture. But what unsettled the inquisitor most were her eyes—a trace of madness flickered within them, sharp and unrelenting.
She glanced at 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, and yet you offer them anyway. You understand your insignificance, and yet you still insist on trying 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 understand your fate? You're all just prey—born lowly, destined to die lowly. Your doom in this corner of the galaxy was decided long before you arrived."
The inquisitor's voice was steady but tinged with frustration. "I don't understand. Our peoples once fought side by side. On Cadia, your warriors and ours stood together against the forces of Chaos. Why have the Eldar turned their blades on former allies?"
"Allies?" Rosina let out a derisive laugh. "You speak of Ulthwé's misguided pact, their hopeless crusade alongside your dying Imperium. We Alaitocians have never shared such delusions."
"Even so," the inquisitor pressed, his gaze hardening, "why torment our soldiers like this?" He pointed at the man on the table, who had begun to moan weakly. "If his skills were inferior, then defeat 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 necessity. Knowledge demands sacrifice, and death is but another step in the cycle. I seek understanding, not pleasure. The mon-keigh must learn to fear what they cannot comprehend." 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 bring death and leave behind bones. Even your kind can understand that warning. You humans should never have set foot on the world you call Eden 5."
The inquisitor's brows furrowed in confusion. "Eden 5? That's an uninhabited planet!"
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 anger. The arrogance of the Eldar was infuriating. But her words sparked a realization. The strange movements of Craftworld Alaitoc—their raids, their warnings—it all centered on Eden 5.
Maiden worlds were rare jewels in the vast, inhospitable expanse of space. Lush, pristine, and teeming with life, they offered an environment so perfect for human survival it was almost mythical. A single Maiden world could sustain countless generations, providing food, water, and shelter without effort.
"Eden 5 is under Imperial control," the inquisitor said finally, his voice steady. "Our forces are already establishing colonies there. This," he gestured to the carnage around him, "is preparation for war, isn't it? You're planning to reclaim it."
Rosina's lips curled into a slow smile. "Perhaps. Or perhaps this is simply the beginning. Either way, the message is clear—you should never have come."
"ell, enough has been said. I'm tired of you," Rosina said, her voice tinged with mockery. "Besides, what's the point of you worrying about these things? I'm just the messenger. No matter what you've done or what you plan to do, we both know there's no corner of the galaxy that can 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, an elegant but deadly weapon, 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 managed to raise his hand in a futile attempt to shield his face before a storm of monomolecular discs shot out, slicing through him with ease. A heartbeat later, 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 collapse of the human body with something between fascination and delight. Her lips parted slightly as she licked them, savoring the primal thrill coursing through her veins. No matter how many times she witnessed such a sight, it always awakened a beastly, almost uncontrollable impulse within her.