Chapter 68: The Shattering of an Illusion
Chapter 68: The Shattering of an Illusion
"Four-Armed Emperor above, what in the world is happening?"
The building shook with successive tremors, and the lights flickered. The bald woman, the Preacher, grabbed onto a railing.
"Careful, my lady!" a compatriot cried, tackling her to the ground. When she opened her eyes again, a massive boulder had crushed the man who had just saved her.
"Oh, no," the Preacher knelt in sorrow, looking at the man who had risen all the way from the underhive to be here. "Why did it have to be this way? Why did you have to sacrifice your noble life to save me?"
"Because we are equal," the dying man said with a smile. "I had to save you. Not out of a difference in status, not out of the shackles of duty, but simply because we are compatriots, and because my life could save yours."
"Yes, we are equal. Your sacrifice can save me, and my sacrifice can, in turn, save others. This is the noble character the God-Emperor has bestowed upon us," the Pre-cher said, tears in her eyes as she cradled his lifeless head. "You saved me today, and tomorrow, I will save another."
The others who were still clearing the debris couldn't help but stop and watch.
BOOM!
A tremor from the ceiling above shattered the tender scene.
CRASH!
The ceiling collapsed. A black knight, using the massive body of an Aberrant as a cushion, dropped down. Rubble rained down, and a massive cloud of dust, toxic enough to instantly kill a small animal, poured from the breach.
The Preacher looked up, her bright purple eyes meeting the gaze of the now-standing black knight.
At the same instant, the knight looked up at her.
Through the emerald eyes behind the crimson lenses, the Preacher saw her own reflection.
He knows me. He's here to kill me!
In a fraction of a second, the Preacher understood his purpose. She turned and fled.
With a thunderous roar, Arthur charged after her. The bright light from the breach shone on his back, casting a massive shadow before him. The darkness swallowed her. The Preacher stared at the doorway, which was rapidly approaching the edge of the shadow.
"Protect me!"
An instinctual panic wel-led up from the depths of her soul. She, who had thought herself merely one of the saviour's flock, let out a piercing shriek. "I command you to protect me!"
The sound, a psychic scream, pierced through the dust, through the walls, and even reached her compatriots at the pinnacle of the iron tower.
All the Genestealers who were still in the midst of their frenzied assault froze.
In their world, everything had become strange. The sound of gunfire grew muffled. Only the black figure was so terribly clear. And so, they turned in unison and ran towards the Preacher.
They moved with all possible speed, tearing their own fascia, ripping their bones from their sockets. The killing gene in their bodies was completely activated, squeezing every last drop of energy from their flesh. It was a speed the xenos could only achieve by pushing all their potential to its absolute limit.
But was it any use?
In the Mechanicus Temple, the Astartes who had breached the corridors now held every chokepoint, their ferocious firepower pouring out, blasting the clustered xenos to paste.
In the Administratum hall, the Sharks surged from all directions, cutting down and mincing the xenos who tried to impede the knight's advance.
BOOM!
A beast, far larger than the other Aberrants, charged from behind a curtain, only to be tackled and knocked over by a Shark far larger than the other Astartes.
"Screee—" the Preacher let out a horrifying roar. A terrifying psychic power erupted from her, revealing to all the face that was rapidly mutating with the surge of power. She had once been a noble and elegant missionary, but now she was a monster.
A Purestrain!
This was a high-level individual, born only after five generations of reproduction from the first batch of infected humans, capable of psychically controlling a massive number of Genestealers. Of course, when a higher-level individual was present, these creatures might not even be aware of their own identity.
"Die!" In the next moment, psychic energy flared. A psychic blast, powerful enough to instantly ignite a human's frontal lobe, shot towards the knight.
The knight raised his shield. A deep green thread of psychic energy slammed against its surface and dissipated. The plasma thrusters on his back glowed with a faint blue light, propelling him forward at high speed. The dissipated psychic energy shrieked, pressing forward madly, just like its master, wanting to pour its heat into the enemy's brain, to drive away the cold intent of death.
But it couldn't touch him.
No matter what, it couldn't touch him.
It was as if—
Untouchable? The Preacher couldn't find a better word for it. Why is he untouchable?
CLANG!
In that brief moment of hesitation, the knight had already torn through the light. His blade cleaved at the xenos's head, but was deflected by a psychic ward. The Purestrain instinctively swiped with its claws, but the moment they extended past the shield, they were lopped off by the blade.
It recoiled in pain. The psychic assault was still bombarding the corridor ahead, and the other Genestealers were fearlessly swarming forward. Even as the Sharks tore them limb from limb, they would spit bloody froth, just to buy the Preacher a fraction of a second.
But the Preacher had no second chance to escape.
The solid shield slammed into the psychic ward, shattering the spell. The backpack behind him erupted in a blue stream of fire. The black knight, pushing against the Purestrain, slammed it into a plasteel plate on a support pillar.
The sword thrust forward, the tip of its disruption field pressed firmly against the edge of the shield, only an inch from piercing the Preacher's skull.
Sizzle~ Sizzle~
In a brief struggle, the Preacher burned all of her psychic power, her eyes fixed on the blade that was inches from her face. The arcs of energy from the power field were already beginning to lick at her carapace. She focused. To survive, she had to focus.
CRACK—
With a fragile sound, the holy relic of a shield slammed against the carapace on the Preacher's body. The psychic energy could no longer maintain a full-spectrum defense.
!!!
Before the Preacher could react, Arthur abandoned his sword, which was still being held back by the psychic ward. His fist, carrying the full force of his being, flew in a simple, straight punch towards its head.
THUMP!
Powerful muscles, filled with the desire to live, exploded with strength, grabbing the ceramite-encased fist and yanking the punch so it slammed into the right side of its own head.
CLANG!
The fist, wrapped in flesh, slammed into the plasteel. The two of them were almost pressed together.
It seemed it had dodged the fatal blow.
But was it over?
Just as the Preacher, surviving the blow, was about to counter-attack, the sword, which should have fallen with gravity, was now in the knight's left hand, its blade pressed against its neck.
FWOOSH!
The vectored thrusters of the power pack swiveled in that instant, spewing azure flames that spun the knight's body. The blade sank inch by inch into the Purestrain's throat, slicing through tissue, cleaving through bone, and finally leaving a long gash in the plasteel behind it.
The knight spun and landed, catching the shield before it hit the ground and re-engaging it on the vambrace of his left arm.
TING!
A clear echo rang through the Administratum hall.
Behind him, in the clouds of dust, a headless body knelt on the ground.
(End of Chapter)