The Profane Barrier Warp vortex emanating from the blasphemous barrier, like a constantly shrinking Great Maw, trapped the Gemstone firmly in its center.
Outside the portholes of the bridge, not a single star or nebula could be seen; only surging, rainbow-colored Chaos energy, like boiling poison, constantly battered the light membrane of the Gellar Field.
Each impact creates distorted ripples in the force field, carrying a piercing shriek that can corrode the soul, seeping into the heavy alloy hull.
Dominic stood in front of the control panel, looking exhausted.
He hasn't closed his eyes since the Profane Barrier was created.
His once meticulously combed red hair was now disheveled and plastered to his forehead, with bluish stubble sprouting on his chin and dark circles under his eyes.
Those red eyes, which always held pride and sharpness, were now bloodshot, filled with an undisguised loneliness and weariness.
Hours earlier, when he ordered the Gemstone to plunge into the energy trough, he thought he had grasped the key to breaking the deadlock.
He had even mentally rehearsed countless times the scenario: the warships would break through the barrier and descend upon Brevis, the Macro-cannon would tear apart the Chaos stronghold, and he would personally lead the team to wipe out the heretics, becoming the hero who saved the planet.
But reality dealt him the cruelest blow.
The so-called energy trough is nothing more than bait deliberately set up by the enemy.
He led the elite Imperium battleship, the Gemstone, straight into the enemy's carefully laid trap, like an insect flying into a spider's web.
"Sir, the force field energy reading has dropped to thirty-seven percent."
The navigator's voice, trembling with barely concealed emotion, broke the deathly silence of the bridge.
" The Psychic Power array in Sector B is overloaded. Psyker Brother Thorn has been killed in action."
Dominic's eyelashes trembled slightly, but he didn't say anything.
The Psyker stored on the Gemstone were essentially the "batteries" that maintained the Gellar Field.
They used their souls and lives to build a barrier against the invasion of the Warp.
But in this raging vortex, Psychic Power is being consumed at an alarming rate.
Just one day ago, there were seven Psyker.
Now, only two remain.
With each death, the Gellar Field weakens, and the erosion of the Warp deepens.
He could clearly feel the ship's tremors growing more and more violent, and even some of the bulkhead's metal surfaces had begun to ooze thick, dark red flesh and blood.
The Chaos whispers grew clearer, like countless fine needles piercing the ears of every crew member, tempting them to abandon their resistance and embrace the great four gods.
"Boom!!"
A violent impact came from the bow, and the entire battleship jolted violently.
The piercing alarm blared instantly at its highest frequency, and the red warning lights flashed wildly, illuminating everyone's faces in a flickering light.
"Warning! Warning! The port side shield at the bow has been penetrated!"
" Chaos frigate contact detected! The enemy is conducting a boarding maneuver!"
"Identification signal... It's the Thousand Sons Battle Clan! Rubric Marines signal confirmed!"
The communicator instantly erupted in chaos, filled with screams, explosions, and the sounds of weapons firing, all mingling together and traveling through the electrical current to the bridge.
Dominic suddenly raised his head, the desolation and weariness in his eyes instantly replaced by a cold killing intent.
He absolutely could not accept being trapped here and dying, or being forced to plummet into the abyss of Warp along with the warship.
He is Dominic Ventria, the eldest son of the Ventria Family, and a Rear Admiral in the Imperial Navy.
Even if he dies, he wants to die on the charge, in hand-to-hand combat with heretics.
" Celestial Lions Squad, follow me."
He grabbed the precision-engineered Power Axe hanging beside the command platform; the axe blade's decomposition force field hummed loudly.
" Lady Link, you are temporarily in command of the bridge."
The Sisters of Silence standing in the corner nodded slightly, her gray eyes devoid of any emotion, as she gently placed her hand on the hilt of the Power Sword at her waist.
Four three-meter- Celestial Lions Terminator strode forward, their heavy Terminator Armour emitting a muffled hydraulic hum.
They were Dominic's personal guards, an elite force built at great expense by the Ventria Family.
Ultimately, it was just a heavy Power Armour controlled by mortals, quite different from a true Astartes Terminator.
Even more critically, in the Warp of direct warp corruption, only by being near the Saint Mummy Amulet on Dominic's chest could he barely resist the corruption of Chaos.
This means their range of activities is severely restricted, preventing them from acting freely.
Walking through the sloping corridor, the horrific scenes along the way were appalling.
In just ten minutes, the Chaos forces that had broken through the defenses had breached three lines of defense.
The corridor floor was littered with the corpses of Imperium soldiers.
Their deaths were extremely gruesome; some had bulging eyes and faces frozen in extreme fear, clearly having been scared to death.
Some bodies had grown fused with the metal walls, their flesh and blood merging into twisted, mangled lumps.
Others gripped Lasgun tightly, but the muzzles turned and pierced their own chests.
The direct erosion of the Warp reduced the combat effectiveness of mortal soldiers by more than 80%.
Many people were driven mad by illusions before they even saw the enemy.
"Help me, help me..."
A soldier huddled in a corner, convulsing, tiny tentacles emerging from the gaps in his armor, slowly burrowing into his flesh.
He saw Dominic walk by, reached out his hand as if to beg for help, but what came out of his mouth were obscure Chaos prayers.
Without hesitation, one of the Celestial Lions guards behind him raised his Power Fist and ended his suffering.
"Sir, Hangar number three is just ahead; the wizard is inside."
The voice of the Celestial Lions captain came through the communicator, a metallic, hoarse tone:
"Nine Rubric Marines signal, and countless demons and Pauper Princes."
Dominic stopped and took a deep breath.
He knew that beheading was the only way.
Once the Thousand Sons Sorcerer is killed, the boarding force, now deprived of its Psychic Power dominance, will fall into chaos, allowing the Gemstone to hold out for a little longer.
Even though he didn't know what the point of continuing was.
Trapped in the Warp vortex, without navigation or support, the force field will eventually collapse completely.
Killing one more traitor and delaying death by one more minute is better than sitting and waiting to die.
"Take the maintenance access road and go around to their side and rear."
Dominic lowered his voice and led the four men into the narrow maintenance pipe next to them.
He knew every inch of the Gemstone's structure like the back of his hand; it was his warship, his territory.
Inside Hangar No. 3, the scene was like hell.
Tzeentch's rainbow flames burned everywhere, leaving the metal floor pitted and scarred.
Hundreds of Cultists of the Pauper Princes knelt on the ground, chanting incantations frantically. Their bodies twisted and mutated continuously as the incantations ripped out extra arms and eyes.
A dozen or so Pink Horror floated around in the air, emitting sharp laughter.
On the high platform in the center of the hangar stood a Thousand Sons Sorcerer.
He was clad in magnificent blue Power Armour, with eyes gleaming with Psychic Power light beneath his helmet, and a multicolored gem at the tip of his wand constantly drawing in the surrounding Warp energy.
Nine Rubric Marines, clad in finely crafted Power Armour, stood like statues beside him.
Their armor was covered in Tzeentch runes, and the Power Halberd in their hands gleamed with an eerie light. Within the armor lay souls cursed and imprisoned for eternity.