((The Doctor, I am always amazed by how well you write...))
Deep inside the realm's grandest mountain, vast and endless tunnels stretched. Once, they had been filled with bustling activity--Gnomes, Dwarves, and even a few carefully-selected citizens of other races going to and fro, scheming and building. Building a machine that would eclipse all others, one that would serve to save the world. Building YEESHA. Now, all were dead, including one young apprentice Eidetic. Their corpses, strewn about their subterranean city, gathered no mourners. They did not even gather flies--they had not reached that far. No insect could. The tunnels were dark, painted with abstract blood-art. YEESHA had devoured every single one of them, as a spider devours each fly that comes to its web.
Two strange things could be noted about each of the dead, save for one. The corpses had all been drained of blood, except for the droplets which spattered the city's walls. For one, most of them were coated in a thick, viscous substance, almost exactly like organic saliva except for potent anesthetic properties. The Designers, those who had set and programmed YEESHA's final parameters, had lobbied against this "unnecessary" addition to their mechanical creation, but in the end common sense (and mercy) had prevailed. Secondly, each of the bodies--except for one--had been pierced in two places: the heart, and the place in the spine which would lead through the ribcage toward the heart.
In short, YEESHA had pierced each victim and fed upon the very lifeblood which sustained him or her. She may have been mechanical, but she ran upon purely organic fuel. More specifically, the fuel of anyone who had ever done an evil thing in their entire lives. That was how the Designers had programmed her. It was their intention, this massacre. It was what they had waited and hoped for. After all, had not the ancient gods of myth tried to destroy this wicked world with floods and fires, earthquakes and electrical storms? Why should they not have had their turn, the ten people who knew how the world should work, and what had caused it to malfunction so dramatically?
Only one corpse did not fit this grisly pattern. It was Yery Wisdomgiver's.
YEESHA had reached her.
YEESHA had scrutinized and judged her, knowing her every deed at a glance.
YEESHA had found her guilty, as she had all of the others she'd eradicated. However, the young Gnome had said something to her, and it was this something which the mechanical tape-loop, and the endless reading of its parameters, was designed to block out. The Designers had foreseen this.
What was it? How, in all possibility, could Yery Wisdomgiver remember now?
She was dead, frightened out of her wits by pure and simple shock. As she'd waited for YEESHA to coat her with anesthetic saliva and drain her body, the mechanical spider had meditated upon her words. Then she had moved on.
Alas! It was too late now. YEESHA had escaped, and was roaming free.