"Panicking"?

??!!

If the Red Marker truly possessed self-awareness, it would likely have fallen into unprecedented shock at this moment.

Because it had discovered that the warriors before it completely ignored its psychic assault.

Its whispers were enough to drive an entire colony mad, enough to rout the Human Federation's army, yet against these beings, they sank like stones into the sea without raising even a ripple.

There was only one reason.

Sui Meng and the Formation Breakers were all blood-related offspring of the God-Emperor of Mankind.

The Emperor's mark flowed through their bloodlines, a realm that even the Chaos Gods found difficult to reach.

Mere whispers.

Mere so-called mental temptation—how could it possibly shake beings who had been born standing above the mundane world?

Within the cargo hold, one side was a slaughterhouse where Necromorphs were torn apart by firelight and Bolt Rounds, while the other was the Red Marker's frustration at its psychic assault failing completely.

The stench of blood and scorched metal filled the entire cargo hold, yet in the presence of Sui Meng and the Honor Guard, it instead lent the scene a cold, solemn killing intent.

They were not mortals swallowed by darkness. They were the Imperial Spear.

Soon, the whispers in the cargo hold grew more intense, as if countless invisible mouths were murmuring beside their ears at once, seeking to corrode every thought away.

The metal bulkheads trembled faintly as some force squeezed and pulled at the entire space.

Yet Sui Meng remained unmoved.

His towering body strode across the deck in heavy armor, each step producing a deep, powerful sound.

Thud!

Thud!

Every step was like a war drum striking the heart of this colossal vessel, making the surrounding Necromorphs and shadows tremble involuntarily.

That was the might of a Primarch. No words