"What do you mean, there's no usable psychic energy? Are you telling me that cloud formation just now was a natural phenomenon on this planet?" Leman Russ asked with a furrowed brow. "It didn't look natural at all. Otherwise, nothing would grow in a place like this, and it would become a death world where even surviving would be difficult."
Magnus looked at his palm, gradually extinguishing the psychic light flickering in his eyes, then explained to Leman Russ.
"It's more complicated than that. Their world also has something similar to psychic energy, deposited deep within the earth and drifting through the air. But this power is far too... lifeless."
"Lifeless?"
"That's right." Magnus nodded and continued, "Compared to true psychic energy, these psychic-like forces are like corpses, like stones. They're utterly inactive. You have to understand, every breath of air in the Warp contains projected fragments of the souls of living beings from ages past."
"So you're useless now? Figures this job should have gone to Perturabo and Rogal Dorn."
"What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean, I've become useless? It's only become harder to replenish my psychic energy. It's not like I'm dying!" Magnus snapped, then counted on his fingers. "That spell just now used less than one ten-thousandth of my power."
Leman Russ nodded, grinning. "Sure. You're Magnus. Even Father said you had a decent talent for psychic energy. If the ritual's done properly, you can send a message across half the Milky Way—and punch a huge hole in the Webway while you're at it."
"Do you have to bring that up?"
"At least until I die, it'll remain the finest entry in my book of bad jokes."
Magnus's face turned cold. After a while, he sighed and rubbed his brow. "I can't