Word Bearers Librarian Royst stared into the distance in shock, crouching behind a half-collapsed stone wall.
His gaze pierced the drifting Smoke and flying dust, passed over burning buildings and scattered corpses, and settled in that direction.
A direction he would never forget.
There, an entire city was disappearing.
He watched with his own eyes as the city was compressed, crushed together, and broken down, until it became a tiny sphere and then dissipated into the air.
He knew that power all too well. It was his father's power.
"It's Father! Father!" Royst cried excitedly, his voice filled with the wild joy and hope of someone who had glimpsed a lighthouse in the darkness.
He sprang up from behind the stone wall, his gaze fixed on that direction, his heart pounding so violently in his chest that it almost leaped into his throat.
Originally, fifty Word Bearers Librarians had followed Royst. After the fall of Prospero, they had been scattered throughout the city, fighting a grueling guerrilla war against the warriors of the Thousand Sons.
While evading the Thousand Sons' pursuit, they had searched for a way to contact their father and the main force.
But under such relentless assaults, faced with an endless succession of psychic attacks and ambushes, their numbers had steadily dwindled.
Now, fewer than ten remained.
Some of their fallen brothers had died beneath the Thousand Sons' psychic lightning. Others had perished under attacks by the Imperialis Militia. Others still had volunteered to hold the rear so their comrades could withdraw, never to return.
Royst turned to look at the weary yet resolute brothers behind him.
Dust and blood covered their armor, and exhaustion marked their faces, but an unyielding fire still burned in their eyes.
Then Royst said firmly, "We're heading to the building where