The power of a psyker is most intuitively understood through display: a true master can use the Warp to achieve anything they desire—freezing time, reshaping souls, tearing apart Emperor-class Titans, shattering planets, or even extinguishing stars.
While Allie was currently capable of such feats, such a massive psychic signature would inevitably draw the gaze of the entities within the Immaterium. Under Alexei's strict instructions, she had to exercise precise control over her power, refraining from unleashing her full potential unless it was absolutely critical.
Even so, it was more than enough. On the ground, the Chaos psykers stared at the sky in terror, having no idea where the attack originated. Suddenly, a dark blur descended from the heavens, coming to an abrupt, jarring halt in mid-air just a short distance away. The resulting downdraft scattered the surrounding miasma. Seeing her figure suspended in such an eerie, sudden stillness, the onlookers felt as if the girl before them was entirely unaffected by the laws of physics.
They were terrified, they were frantic; they seemed to sense that their doom was at hand. The heretic psykers threw everything they had at the girl floating in the air, yet every bolt of energy and shard of malice was intercepted by an invisible force field inches from her skin, failing to leave even a scratch.
Allie didn't say a word. She looked at these psykers making their final stand as if they were already corpses. The Swarm surged forward again, coming to a halt around her. Mutalisks and Guardians circled the girl, screeching and spiraling; in that moment, she looked like the true sovereign of the Zerg.
She slowly raised her right hand, her hair fluttering in the wind. A power far beyond mortal comprehension erupted from her seemingly frail body. The plague mists across the entire battlefield were instantly dispelled, and the heavy, sun-blocking clouds were pierced through. Bathed in a pillar of celestial light, the heretics ceased their attacks. They wept in agony, begging for forgiveness from this "god," until the sheer psychic pressure ground them into a red mist.
As the Swarm resumed its march, Allie's gaze swept across the battlefield. She found no interest in the mindless plague zombies below. Pouting with dissatisfaction, she murmured, "Boring." Then, her figure shot toward the horizon and vanished from the battlefield once more.
Alexei stood in the bridge, watching the screens as his ships continued to cleanse the surface. They were advancing toward what was once the largest urban center on the planet. A figure skipped cheerfully to his side.
"All settled?" Alexei looked at Allie with a smile as she hummed a low tune.
"Of course. Easy-peasy," Allie replied with a giggle.
"Good. Thank you for the hard work. Go get some rest; there's nothing else for now," Alexei said, patting her head.
"Are you sure?" Allie pointed to a red dot on the holographic map representing the city and shared the results of the psychic scan she had just performed.
"What?" Alexei's face twisted in shock. "You're saying there are survivors in there?!"
"Yes, quite a lot, it seems," Allie nodded. "But they're all deep underground. There appears to be a massive bunker complex down there."
"Tch..." This was a complication. Alexei's brow furrowed; he wasn't cold-blooded enough to use a Yamato Cannon to level a city full of civilians.
"Adjutant, how many ground combat personnel are available on this ship?"
"Three Guard squads and one Astartes combat squad."
"Enough. Have them pack sufficient medical supplies and prepare for combat." After giving the orders, Alexei grabbed the power sword resting nearby and headed toward the drop pods.
"Wait, Brother, let me take you down." Allie blinked her eyes expectantly at him.
"...Fine." Looking at her eager face, Alexei agreed after a moment's thought. She was, after all, a formidable asset.
Inside a dim underground tunnel, a mother and son were running desperately toward the far end. The mother kept glancing back in terror until the child beside her accidentally tripped on a hole in the floor, slamming hard onto the ground.
"Quick, quick! Stand up, son!" The mother pulled frantically at the boy's hand, trying to hoist him up.
But the little boy only wailed, unable to find his footing. In the flickering shadows of the corner behind them, two massive, bloated silhouettes were projected onto the wall. Heavy footsteps accompanied by low, wet chuckles drew closer.
As the shadow of bloated, rotting power armor enveloped them, the mother's face fell into utter despair. She pulled her sobbing child into her embrace and closed her eyes, surrendering to the approaching heavy tread.
Amidst her absolute terror, a burst of gunfire erupted beside them. The mother opened her eyes to see flashes of fire coming from the shadows of a ventilation pipe.
The angry roars of the enemies ahead cut off abruptly as their heads were detonated into a red mist by bolt shells. Even then, the headless, mangled bodies continued to fire blindly into the dark before finally collapsing. The muzzle flashes momentarily illuminated the gloom, and for a split second, the mother and son saw a towering figure draped in a grey robe.
In the next heartbeat, the figure charged from the shadows. His power sword struck with the force of a thunderbolt against the remaining Plague Marine. The ancient blade clashed repeatedly against rusted metal; the silent, giant warrior used swordplay of exquisite precision to leave fatal rents in the enemy's loathsome hide.
With a final, gurgling roar, the Plague Marine's body was cleaved in two by the power sword's disruption field. As the corpse hit the floor with a heavy thud, the robed giant silently sheathed his blade across his back.
"Is it the Emperor's An—" The little boy started to shout as he saw the scarred, black power armor, but his terrified mother quickly covered his mouth.
The black-armored warrior glanced at the pair through his crimson eyepieces, then drew a combat knife. He walked to the two corpses and carved a number onto each: 77, 78.
Task finished, he stood up immediately and ignored the mother and son, heading deeper into the tunnel.
The mother breathed a sigh of relief and loosened her grip on her son. Suddenly, the boy broke free from her arms and ran in the direction the warrior had gone.
"No, wait!" the mother cried out in despair, scrambling up to chase after him.
Fortunately, she caught her son's arm in time. The giant warrior ahead didn't seem to care about their antics, continuing his silent march. After a long struggle with her own thoughts, the mother finally gathered her courage and followed the warrior from a distance.
Eventually, they reached a vast open chamber. The mother was stunned to see a large crowd of survivors gathered there. The towering warrior walked toward a strange pile of stacked stones nearby, which bore inscriptions in a language she didn't recognize.
The survivors watched the black-armored warrior with awe and fear, backing away to clear a path. Without pause, the warrior reached the stones and dropped heavily onto one knee, the metallic clang echoing through the cavern. He pressed his right hand to his chest and began a silent prayer.
A moment later, he rose and turned back toward the exit. The mother and son bowed their heads and made way. As the warrior passed them, the mother caught a clear glimpse of a scarred emblem on the black shoulder plate beneath his wind-blown robe: A winged sword.