"I am not satisfied with that answer."
The power of biomancy twisted every cell in the Dark Eldar warrior captain's body. Countless thick nerves, like serpents, burst from his flesh and burrowed into his already-bored skull.
It was a torment no living being could endure. Every nerve signal shredding his cells was amplified and funneled directly into his brain.
Forced into cruel wakefulness, his soul was made to savor pain magnified a thousandfold.
"Your deployments. Your purpose. And who sent you here?"
The Inquisitor's eyes gleamed. At the very moment when his body should have collapsed, she precisely maintained him at the threshold of survival and spoke her question.
"Ah… haahhh—"
The scream of agony lasted only a short while before sinking into a low, guttural cry. There was release in it, even pleasure.
"Little monkey, I've endured torments far greater than this. Ah— this pain… your methods are far weaker than the Haemonculi, but it's new enough. By your monkey standards, I'd give it a passing grade. Heh heh…"
The warrior captain tilted his head. His swollen neck, bloated by the forced growth of nerve clusters, ruptured. Unimaginable pain wracked his body, yet out of it came a groan of satisfaction.
The Silver Rose Sisters who had just entered could not hide their disgust. Their hands lifted their assault flamers almost instinctively.
"..."
Faced with this seemingly unbreakable xenos, the young Inquisitor wavered. Then she simply increased the psychic output.
"Ah— yes, that's it, let me feel it. Ah— I begin to understand those necromancers after all. So even pain without blood can be… exquisite…"
Though his flesh howled under unbearable strain, his soul seemed untouched. He taunted her through it all.
"..."
The Inquisitor pressed harder, pushing his body to swell grotesquely. Fluids seeped from his splitting skin, running down his ornate armor, spraying as the growing mass pierced itself on sharp edges.
Splurt—
The lump of warped flesh convulsed violently.
Then the Inquisitor pulled back her power.
"... I will speak. Come closer… I will speak."
His voice fell to a whisper. His ruined body could no longer sustain defiant shouting.
The Inquisitor glanced at the Marshal beside her. They shared a cautious look, then stepped forward.
"My earlier questions. Answer them!"
She commanded coldly. Yet even as the words left her mouth, her finely tuned senses warned her. She twisted her head aside. A shard of sharpened bone shot from his throat, slicing off strands of golden hair.
"I will find you, little monkey."
His twisted body writhed, grinding her fallen hair beneath it. His eyes locked on hers, as if to brand her face onto his soul.
Stab!
At that instant, a blade pierced through his skull from behind.
In the Inquisitor's gaze, those eyes that had only shown mockery finally revealed the despair she had sought.
"Wait!"
"?"
Arthur looked at the Inquisitor in confusion, his sword frozen in the xenos' head.
But as soon as her psychic grip released, the bloated form collapsed. Chunks of flesh fell into a small mound, then were promptly swept away by a waiting servitor.
"Another xenos whose use has run its course."
The Inquisitor eyed the Sword-Bearer who had struck the killing blow, frowning.
She could not understand why even under maximum neural torture these creatures would not break, even taking pleasure in the pain, fearing only death itself.
"This was the last one."
The Black Templar Marshal at her side spoke coldly. Candles burned on his shoulder plates, casting steady light, and the three golden studs in his brow gleamed.
In truth, there was still another Dark Eldar sealed in an iron casket behind them, its senses completely cut off. But everyone knew such interrogation would not bear fruit quickly.
"Do you think the Dark Eldar we kill can come back?"
Arthur turned his head, addressing the three companions beside him who shared his unease.
They had followed the Red Sharks into the Ark Mechanicus, led by Tiberlos.
Cawl had chosen this plaza as a meeting place, but he had not yet arrived. Instead, those disembarking from their shuttle had witnessed a classic M41-style interrogation of Dark Eldar.
And these Dark Eldar—no surprise they had spawned Slaanesh. Their madness was absolute.
The group exchanged looks. The world's casual horrors struck again.
Stereotypes deepened.
"Think of the daemon we killed earlier."
Rameses was the first to recover.
"The part we destroyed was truly gone. The rest, untouched by us, would not remember its death."
"Mm."
Arthur nodded, flicking gore from his blade.
"So this was meant to intimidate us?"
Karna was unsettled.
"That would be childish."
Romulus scanned the wreckage. On the shattered armor he spotted the sigil of the Flayed Skull Kabal.
Ah, that explained it. A wealthy Kabal. No wonder even their warrior captain welcomed death.
"My apologies."
The Inquisitor bowed. Her rosette swayed on its chain, and Romulus noted the reddish stains on her robe.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Inquisitor Aglaea Hysichoe, Ordo Originis."
She gestured to the iron casket behind her.
"As you can see, I am assisting the Black Templars in interrogating xenos. Unfortunately, I am not a specialist in this particular race, and thus have gained little useful intelligence."
Arthur folded his arms, sword across his chest, aloof at the rear.
"Then our timing is perfect."
Romulus stepped forward smoothly.
"Our presence will surely aid you in this difficulty. I am Romulus, kill-team leader of the Deathwatch."
"Thank you for your generosity."
Aglaea exhaled, visibly relieved.
The Deathwatch were easier to work with. At least they treated an Inquisitor seriously.
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