Boss Slick did not know where this power came from. He only felt that it was protecting him, as though knowing too much could also cause harm.
He stopped dwelling on it and raised his right hand on impulse. A crystal-clear stone rested in his palm. Had Autarch Yriel been there, he would surely have cried out, "The Tears of the Old Ones!"
Boss Slick recognized it too. This was what had preserved those beings' minds at the crucial moment in battle.
He slowly pressed the gemstone against his forehead. The Black Armor automatically extended into a helmet, enclosing the gemstone within it.
A refreshing clarity flooded Boss Slick's Thought Realm. His consciousness had never been so clear. It was as though he had always viewed the world through a pane of hazy, rough-edged glass, and only now could he see what was real.
The concept the Emperor had carved into his soul still existed, but it could no longer affect Boss Slick's judgment. A psychic gemstone like this could protect even the most ordinary living beings from the oppressive presence of the Four Gods at their strongest. Shielding Boss Slick from a single concept was no great challenge.
With the immediate problem resolved, Boss Slick was about to advance with Mighty Big Boss II and keep killing bugs when faint sounds in his mind stopped him.
Outside the star system, in the Warp, something was calling to him.
These voices did not come from the Chaos Gods of the Warp, or from Boss Slick's Warp Essence, or from Gork and Mork... They were the voices of countless Orks, countless calls to Boss Slick, countless wishes to join his Great Waaagh.
"I was wondering why fewer and fewer Orks had been coming to Octaria lately. I thought you simple-minded idiots