The Librarians discovered, to their horror, that the world they saw had changed. The Warp energies that normally stirred through the air had become a stagnant pool, unresponsive no matter how they called upon them. Even the Chaplains' sacred prayers, which could rouse morale, had become dry and powerless, little more than the cries of ordinary men.
Without "the Emperor's protection," the Astartes remained mighty, but they were no longer invincible demigods.
The casualty figures began climbing at a suffocating pace.
It was no longer just the Lamenters. The defensive lines of every Imperial force were wavering.
On a narrow street the locals called "Butcher's Path," that despair reached its peak.
An elite joint assault squad drawn from the Iron Hands and the Crimson Fists was advancing behind armoured vehicles. Well equipped and in high spirits, they had planned to break through the outer defences in a single push.
Now, however, they faced an unprecedented, devastating blow.
Amid the heavy roar of machinery, three enormous, snow-white XV104 Riptide Battlesuits slowly rose from the shadows of the ruins at the end of the street, lifted by the thrust of their jet packs.
Like three moving steel fortresses, they blotted out the dusky sky.
The enormous Heavy Ion Accelerators in their hands and the Smart Missile Pods mounted on their shoulders had already completed their overcharge cycles. A dazzling blue light capable of destroying worlds flickered at their muzzles.
"Emperor... what are those monsters...?" a recruit said, trembling.
"Quick! Find cover! Everyone, spread out!" the Iron Hands Company Captain roared himself hoarse.
On that narrow street, where the buildings on both sides had long since been razed, no effective cover could withstand firepower of that magnitude. Beneath the terrifying presence of the Riptide Battlesuits, his roar seemed utterly feeble.
Without a trace