As Number 0 shattered the restraints around him, the prepared Iron Warriors pulled the triggers of their boltguns, sending a vicious hail of rounds at him.
The pitch-black bolts, engraved with words mocking the Imperium, exploded across Number 0's body, reducing his coat and gas mask to ash.
When their magazines ran dry, the Iron Warriors realized just how troublesome this thing before them was. Its resistance to gunfire rivaled that of the supernatural fiends in the Warp.
"If that's all you have, you'd better surrender!"
Number 0 shouted, shaking the shrapnel from his body before charging toward the battle-ready Iron Warriors.
The distance between both sides in this room was so short that neither Number 0 nor the Iron Warriors had any further opportunity for ranged attacks.
Chainswords were yanked from their waists and began to buzz as they activated. The serrated blades had been forged in the hellish furnaces of their homeworld.
Infused with demonic power, these chainswords could damage power armor made from ceramite and plasteel composites, spreading demonic corruption onto every wounded Imperial warrior.
Having drunk the flesh, blood, and souls of countless mortals, the demonic teeth opened their bloody maws toward Number 0's neck. They craved fresh souls to fill their endless hunger.
But today marked the end of those chainswords.
The room filled with the wails of demons and the sounds of chainswords shattering. The two Iron Warriors who had first rushed Number 0 with blades in hand watched the finely crafted chainswords they had forged themselves vanish into nothing.
Their fury was so intense that they instinctively threw punches at Number 0's head.
Their shattered fists contained little flesh, only ruptured mechanical components and splintered ceramite plates.
"What... what are you?"
An intense curiosity rose within Dantik. He now wanted to restrain this