To be completely honest, for a regular Space Marine with little psychic aptitude, Ignis knew fighting a mutated servant of Tzeentch was a daunting task. His Flamestorm Gauntlets and Anby's chainsaw sword could barely scratch the psy-shield protecting that abomination, while the witch herself had an arsenal of chaotic tricks at her disposal.
That burning pain on his face flared again—faint yet persistent—gnawing at his focus.
The crackling power fist struck again and again, hammering Sophie's psychic barrier. Each blow rippled across its shimmering surface but did nothing more than disturb it.
"If that's all you've got," the half-cat, half-bird monstrosity said with her usual mocking grin, "you'll never be a threat to me."
She extended her left hand. From her palm burst a stream of blue fire—Tzeentch's infamous warpflame. Being hit by it was a gamble: you might burn, freeze, be electrocuted… or even be healed.
Faced with such unpredictable sorcery, Ignis could only dodge. Despite the bulk of his Mark X Gravis Power Armor, his reflexes remained sharp. He snatched the dazed Kevin with one hand and ducked behind a shattered concrete wall.
"He's fast," the creature hissed, shifting her focus. "What about you?"
Anby darted through the wreckage, weaving between collapsed bleachers until she disappeared among the twisted hulks of abandoned cars.
"Ah, playing mouse because I'm a cat?" Sophie's grin widened. "I do enjoy a good hunt."
"First, you smoke them out of hiding," she said sweetly, raising a hand. "Once they scurry into the open, catching them is easy."
Above Ignis and Anby, twin clouds—one pink, one blue—began to swirl and merge into a spinning ring. From it fell streams of pink and blue warpflame.
"Damn it!"
Ignis had to shield Kevin, his left hand gripping the man tightly as he crouched low, covering the human with his armored chest.
His armor's targeting cogitators calculated the flames' impact points, flashing evasive paths across his HUD. Ignis dashed between them, his massive frame moving with surprising speed.
But the flames didn't vanish upon striking the ground. Instead, they twisted into miniature fire-tornadoes that spun wildly in every direction, utterly unpredictable.
Their erratic movement overwhelmed the armor's predictive algorithms—Ignis had to rely purely on instinct.
Then, one of those cursed flames curved mid-air and struck his right arm.
A surge of agony tore through him—lightning pain, then freezing cold. For a moment his arm went numb… then, impossibly, warmth returned as the nerves healed. He almost laughed—Tzeentch's magic truly was madness incarnate—until a wave of crushing pressure wrenched his muscles, sending pain screaming through his body.
He staggered but forced himself forward. There were two mortals depending on him; he had no right to fall.
"Good, good," Sophie purred. "Now that the mouse is out, it's time to hunt."
Before Ignis could react, a crystal mirror materialized before him.
What now…?
The mirror's surface split open, and torrents of pink warpflame roared outward.
Ignis instinctively moved back—but then saw, from the corner of his eye, another mirror behind him beginning to glow.
He threw himself sideways, yet the blast spread in a fan-shaped arc. Even his speed wasn't enough; the flames licked across his right side.
Searing heat, slicing pain, electric shock—then a flash-freeze that numbed everything, only for another wave of fire to burn it all back to life again. The Changer of Ways tortured him with every element, his body convulsing beneath the alternating extremes.
"Still alive after a crossfire? My, my… I'll just have to add more," Sophie said gleefully.
At that moment, Anby's chainsaw sword slashed across the barrier once more, scattering violet sparks.
The mutant flicked her wrist. A wave of force blasted Anby off her feet, and two mirrors appeared—one before, one behind—exactly where she was about to land.
If the girl's flesh and blood body touched those cursed flames, she'd be reduced to dust.
Ignis moved again. Ignoring the agony wracking his half-paralyzed body, he sprinted and leapt, catching Anby midair.
The impact knocked the breath out of him. The force Sophie had used had already rendered the girl unconscious, limp in his grasp.
And then he saw it—horror blooming in his gut.
Nine mirrors had encircled his intended landing spot, each one glowing with imminent power.
Is this it?
At least let Anby and Kevin live…
When they hit the ground, Ignis immediately rolled, pressing both humans beneath his armored frame.
Then the storm came.
Tzeentch's unholy power crashed down upon him, burning, freezing, electrocuting, crushing—every nerve screamed. He could neither move nor cry out. All he could do was endure, using his armor and his body as a living shield to give the two fragile mortals beneath him a chance.
He wanted to fall. To just let go. It would only be death—and he'd faced that countless times.
But the faint warmth of life beneath him—their lives—anchored him.
He buried his head, tightening his arms and legs, curling around them to create even the smallest safe pocket beneath his body.
Through his Fire-Sight, he could still see their heat signatures. They're alive. That's enough.
His face burned again—that same fiery sensation—but compared to the rest of the agony coursing through him, it was almost nothing.
Then… the pain stopped.
The sorcery faded. The mutant had ceased her assault. Ignis tried to move but found his limbs screaming in protest.
A soft voice broke through the haze.
"Are you okay?" Anby—awake now, her tone unusually frantic.
"There's… something glowing on your face," she added after a moment.
Glowing? Ignis blinked. My face can't possibly be glowing.
"It's a golden handprint."
A… golden handprint?
He remembered his nightmare from a few nights ago—right before waking, the Old Man of the Throne had slapped him.
So, it was real? Guess the Emperor wasn't too pleased with me.
Ignis sighed.
Not that it mattered. After taking that many direct hits from Tzeentch's warpflame, he should be dead—or worse, trapped forever in some cosmic riddle.
Damn it… they say Tzeentch treats his followers worse than his enemies. Wouldn't that be my luck?
He chuckled weakly—until he realized he was still breathing.
Wait… I'm not dead?
The Salamander felt strength returning. His body knitting itself back together at impossible speed—the Belisarian Furnace in his enhanced physiology activating.
Slowly, he lifted his head. Around him shimmered a dome of golden light.
Golden psychic energy… there's only one source that could be.
Every instinct urged him to shout praises to the Emperor, but knowing the Master of Mankind's distaste for flattery, he settled for a quiet thank you.
The nine mirrors still burned, their warpflames roaring—yet the golden barrier held firm, unshaken.
Anby stared, eyes wide, then looked at Ignis's shining face. The bright golden handprint gleamed like a nightclub beacon. To her, it must have looked like some kind of divine forcefield generator.
Bathed in its light, her strength began to return; muscles once seared by electricity now surged with renewed vigor. Even Kevin stirred, color returning to his cheeks—and, unbelievably, the first hints of fuzz appearing on his bald scalp.
"Stay close. We're taking this fight back to her," Ignis said, rising.
As he moved, the golden shield followed.
He marched toward the flaming mirrors. Wherever the shield touched them, they shattered—dissolving like frost beneath sunlight.
Sophie, certain of her victory only moments before, froze in disbelief. She had already begun savoring her triumph, her master's promised favor—until the golden-armored giant strode forth through fire and ruin, utterly unharmed.
Impossible! She had tested her warpflame on Ethereals—even the famed Dullahan carapace couldn't withstand it.
"Hey!" Ignis bellowed. "Your little arson spree ends here! Hand over the seal!"
"If you want it," Sophie hissed, gathering her power, "then come and take it." She could feel her master's gaze upon her, filling her with new, terrible strength.
Ignis didn't bother with words. The Belisarian Furnace would only sustain him for so long. He had to finish this.
The three-meter-tall giant charged, his ton-heavy armor thundering across the ruined field. His gauntlet, blazing with divine radiance, smashed once more into the psy-shield.
Sophie opened her mouth to laugh at the futility—and froze.
The golden handprint still glowed upon his face, and now the same holy light coursed down his arms, enveloping his power fist.
Realization—and terror—struck her. She tried to retreat, clawing open a portal of warped space.
Too late.
The psychic barrier shattered like glass.