Zeke instinctively rolled to the side.
The energy beam grazed past his shoulder and struck a mutant beast behind him.
The beast didn't even have time to let out a scream; its upper body was instantly vaporized. Its lower half remained standing in place for two full seconds before finally toppling over.
"Holy shit..." someone gasped in the regional channel.
The psychic mutant opened its jaws again, a second beam of light brewing within.
Zeke gritted his teeth, preparing to charge forward and risk it all.
"AAAAAAAAAH!!!"
A piercing scream erupted from the crowd of workers.
It wasn't a scream of terror, but rather... a shriek of release.
Zeke snapped his head around.
Within the crowd of workers, a girl who looked to be around ten years old was kneeling on the ground, clutching her head.
The space around her was warping, the air rippling as an invisible force erupted outward with her at the epicenter.
Psychic power.
A surge of raw, unguided, uncontrolled psychic energy detonated purely by emotion.
The child raised her head. Her eyes had turned completely milky-white, void of pupils.
She looked at the psychic mutant and reached out a hand.
The purple beam of light spat by the psychic mutant abruptly bent in mid-air. As if pinched by an invisible hand, it reversed direction and slammed directly into the mutant's own skull.
The head exploded into a mist of blood.
The massive body collapsed stiffly, kicking up a cloud of dust. Blackish-red blood flowed sluggishly from its stump of a neck.
Having lost their leader, the remaining Razor-Dogs instantly fell into chaos.
The players seized the opportunity to counterattack. In less than three minutes, the remaining two dozen beasts were entirely wiped out.
The battle was over.
The battlefield was a mess.
Razor-Dog corpses were scattered everywhere. The players were panting heavily. Although there were no fatalities, over a dozen were severely injured, and almost everyone had sustained light wounds.
But at this moment, no one cared about any of that.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on that child.
The girl was still kneeling on the ground, her milky-white eyes slowly returning to a normal brown.
She looked blankly at her own hands, then at her surroundings, and finally at Zeke. Her lips trembled:
"What... what did I do?"
Zeke walked over and crouched in front of her.
"You saved everyone," he said softly.
"But I... I feel like there's something inside my body..." The girl's voice was laced with tears. "It wants to come out... I can't control it..."
Zeke looked at Blood Angel.
Blood Angel walked over, scanning the girl with his psychic perception. His expression was grave. "Psychic talent... at least A-tier."
"She spontaneously awakened without any guidance, and the intensity of that strike just now... has already reached the level of an Official Psyker."
"She's two full tiers stronger than a Faint-grade Psyker like me."
(Author's Note: Psychic levels are categorized into twelve tiers: Faint, Low, Official, Mid, High, Master, Storm, Gamma, Beta, Alpha, Demigod, and Evil God. This is an alternate universe setting, please do not get overly pedantic with the lore.)
"Is she in danger?"
"Extreme danger." Blood Angel lowered his voice. "In the Warhammer universe, if a Psyker has no one to teach them control, they either explode on their own or get targeted by things in the Warp and become a gateway."
Zeke fell silent.
He looked at the girl's mother—the woman who had accepted his jacket earlier.
She rushed over and hugged her child, tears streaming down her face, completely at a loss for what to do.
The surrounding workers looked at the girl with complex expressions.
There was fear, curiosity, and... a trace of awe.
They knew all too well what a Psyker meant in a Hive City.
They were either sent to the Black Ships as part of the tithe, their fates unknown.
Or they were controlled by major factions and turned into tools.
Or they lost control and killed everyone around them.
"Boss, what do we do?" [Have You Been Loyal Today?] walked over, covered in blood.
"This child..." Zeke stood up and looked at all the workers.
"Listen up, everyone." His voice carried clearly through the freezing wind. "This child is one of us."
"She just saved everyone."
"Her ability is not a curse; it is a gift."
"In our Crimson Dawn, we will not ostracize or fear anyone just because they possess special abilities."
"We will teach her how to control it, teach her how to use it, and let it become a power that protects everyone."
"If anyone feels uneasy, you can leave now. I won't stop you."
The workers looked at each other.
Aska was the first to step forward. "I trust the Chapter Master! The Chapter Master brought us food and is leading us to warmth. He is our savior, he would not harm us."
He walked over to the girl and patted her shoulder. "Little girl, you were very brave just now."
The other workers also began to voice their support.
"If it weren't for her, we'd all be dead."
"Thank you for saving us, child."
Zeke breathed a sigh of relief.
He looked at Blood Angel. "When we get back, you and Schrödinger Bro figure out how to teach her basic control."
"There's a Psychic Training Manual in the store. I'll buy it."
"It's 500 coins," Blood Angel reminded him.
"I'll buy it." Zeke didn't hesitate.
He turned and addressed everyone: "Clean up the battlefield. Gather any materials we can recycle."
"Prioritize treating the wounded. For the injured players... take down their names. When we get back, we'll issue a unified Imperial Coin reimbursement, and you'll get an extra injury allowance."
Hearing this, the injured players immediately perked up.
"That's so generous! An injury allowance?"
"Absolute loyalty to Boss Zeke!"
The crowd of players erupted into laughter.
Zeke smiled helplessly. "Alright, enough messing around."
"Keep moving."
"We must be back at the base before noon."
The procession resumed its march.
This time, the way the workers looked at the players had changed.
It was no longer just pure gratitude; there was an added layer of... trust.
And the players stood a little straighter. That battle just now proved they weren't just thieves who stole ore.
They were warriors capable of protecting others. The feeling of guarding someone and earning their gratitude was actually pretty damn good.
Zeke walked at the very front of the procession, his sword sheathed.
Blood Angel walked beside him, speaking in a low voice: "That child's psychic fluctuations... share similarities with the residual psychic frequencies in the industrial zone ruins."
Zeke turned his head. "Meaning what?"
"Eighty years ago, the Psykers of House Alar were taken by the Black Ships but psychic talent is hereditary." Blood Angel said, "I suspect there might be others among the workers who have latent psychic talents that just haven't awakened yet."
"...So the crash of Sector 7 wasn't just a political purge," Zeke muttered. "It was also meant to sever the transmission of a psychic bloodline."
"There are no coincidences in the Warhammer universe," Blood Angel said. "Everything happens for a reason."
Zeke didn't reply.
He looked up at the night sky.
Aurelian IV had two moons, one red and one white. They hung at the zenith right now, casting a cold light down upon them.
In the dark night, the stars shimmered with a faint glow.
–
Deep within the Warp.
Lucian's energy body observed the projection of reality.
He saw the march through the freezing night, the beast swarm attack, the psychic child's awakening, and Zeke's choice.
"The resurgence of a psychic bloodline... the legacy of Sector 7..."
Lucian's energy visage revealed a contemplative expression. "House Alar was taken by the Black Ships back then, but their bloodline was never severed."
He absorbed the emotions generated by the players during that battle: the exhilaration of combat, the fear of injury, the ecstasy of victory, the shock of witnessing the psychic eruption...
His gaze lingered on Zeke.
The man was speaking to the workers, guiding them forward, a tired yet resolute expression on his face.
"Comrades... mutual aid... abandoning no one..."
Lucian's energy body rippled slightly.
"In the Warhammer universe, this kind of responsibility is far rarer than psychic powers."
He recalled the Warhammer lore he had read in his past life: Primarchs turning on their brothers, the ruthless slaughters carried out by Space Marines, the cold apathy of Imperial bureaucrats, the maddening corruption of Chaos cultists...
In this universe, kindness was a luxury, sympathy was a weakness, and mercy was suicide.
But Zeke was practicing a different possibility.
Even if he thought it was just a game.
"Perhaps..." Lucian whispered to himself, "This is the very reason I exist, and the variable they bring. It's not like a respawn system is a cheat. After all, reincarnators and Perpetuals aren't exactly rare in this world. The true variable originates from this group of souls from another universe, bringing entirely different core values into this dark galaxy."
He pulled up the [Bestowal of the Chosen] interface, the cursor hovering over Zeke's name.
In the trait repository, several options were flashing.
Lucian did not select any of them.
He closed the interface and continued watching the projection of reality.
Zeke's face was sharply defined in the moonlight.
"Wait a little longer."
"Let this spark of fire burn a little brighter."
"Wait until you realize the truth of this world yourself, until you realize exactly what it is you are fighting for..."
"When that time comes, you will willingly step into my garden."
The energy body slowly faded into the depths of the Warp.
Leaving behind only a single whisper drifting through the void:
"And I will have the crown ready, to crown you myself."