"Crack." It sounded like a resonance from the soul.
The chains could no longer bear the strain. Bearing a curse that allowed psychic beings to live only half a lifetime, the iron bonds shattered thunderously, opening the sealed Webway Gate to this world along with them.
It was just the way it opened...
The chains snapped in the middle, but both ends remained firmly secured. They lashed wildly through the air, whipping at every psychic target like silver snakes dancing toward helpless prey.
It kept spewing its overflowing psyker power, filling the entire space with a chaotic psychic storm.
The Wraithlords naturally suffered the worst. Strictly speaking, they were the only three psychic constructs here, making them the obvious targets for "automatic locking."
The three Knight-sized Meks were knocked airborne by the physical chains, then struck by six psychic lashes. Wraithbone shattered, its sharp fragments mingling with the psychic storm.
The Spirit-Mirror Elder hid beneath the threshold, trembling beneath the violent storm overhead. Beneath his spasming muscles lay a crazed heart. He had completely abandoned the self-restraint he had maintained as a penitent.
The sea was wide enough for fish to leap, the sky high enough for birds to fly.
I have abandoned even my own people and ancestors. What guilt could I possibly have left? From now on, no one can bind me!
The instant the psychic eruption weakened, he flipped over and rolled into the Webway with his staff. Brilliant light swallowed him, and the Spirit-Mirror Elder vanished into the Webway Gate.
The psychic storm abruptly contracted. The Astartes were firing at the Wraithlords from behind cover when they suddenly saw them fly into the air and suffer invisible attacks. Their long protrusions snapped, their weapons shattered, and everything became a deadly storm of flying fragments before suddenly