The golden flames of psychic energy slowly died out, leaving broad swathes of cracked, glasslike melt scars on the writhing flesh walls and blackened metal floor. A strange, fresh scent lingered in the air after the psychic purification, forming an eerie contrast with the sickly-sweet, bloody stench of desecration around them.
There was no other sound in the passage beyond the heavy breathing of Lorgar and his elite warriors and the low hum of their armour's servo systems.
The ashes of hundreds of Rangdan Elites slowly drifted away on currents that did not exist.
The Word Bearers' Terminators swiftly and methodically regrouped, checked their ammunition, and warily scanned every shadow and fold of flesh around them.
Hercules shook nonexistent blood from his hands, as though he had merely finished warming up.
Anastasia retained her detached composure, her silver-grey eyes sweeping over the purified area as though assessing something.
Lorgar stopped, his golden eyes fixed on the deeper, darker end of the passage.
There, profoundly unsettling pulses of cold, hollow psychic energy beat as regularly as a heart. Their source seemed close enough to touch, yet also beyond an impassable veil.
He could sense that the being calling itself "Apophis" was there, waiting.
Just as he prepared to advance and tear through this final barrier by sheer strength and will...
BOOM!!!
A thunderous crash, far deeper and more penetrating than any previous explosion, erupted without warning from the ship's hull diagonally above them!
Within the crash came the cracking of biological carapace and overgrown bone being violently torn apart, mingled with the shrill scream of metal melting through and twisting.
Then a blazing white streak, reeking of ozone and scorched propellant, slammed through the writhing flesh ceiling and the alien pipes embedded within it like a meteor!
Great chunks of scorched,