Doom Slayer's dark sockets, as though connected to the abyss of nothingness, silently "watched" Lion.
There was no anger, no hatred, not even the slightest emotional fluctuation a living creature should possess.
It was an appraisal so pure it froze the soul, a will to destroy that regarded its target as something awaiting processing.
Lion, the Lion King, actually felt an ice-cold terror frantically climbing up his spine!
His muscles instinctively tensed under the warning, every nerve shrieking of danger!
Under the gaze of those "eyes," he felt like nothing more than a fragile rock exposed beneath the radiance of a destructive star, liable to be completely vaporized at any moment!
He had never felt such a pure, untainted will that existed solely for destruction!
It was colder than the corruption of Chaos, deadlier than Angron's madness!
"Luke..." Lion's voice was dry and hoarse. Almost instinctively, he glanced at Luke beside him from the corner of his eye.
His fingers curled slightly without conscious thought, moving toward the hilt of the Fealty Greatsword—an almost instinctive defensive reaction tempered through countless battles between life and death.
"Hold steady! No one make any rash moves!" Luke's voice was like bedrock, instantly suppressing the Dark Angels warriors' nerves on the verge of collapse.
He stepped forward, positioning himself half a step in front of Lion.
"Doom Slayer!" Luke raised his voice, its words echoing clearly through the deathly silent space as he tried to pierce through that destructive will. "Calm down! They're allies! Non-hostile targets!!"
Yet Doom Slayer's steps did not pause in the slightest.
Energy streams flowed like living creatures between the exposed bones and blood vessels of his shattered torso.
Every step he took came with the heavy sound of metal cracking apart.
That invisible, icy pressure of destruction was like