Bloodletters, the most common infantry of Khorne's daemonic legions, surged from the Warp rifts wielding Hellblades.
Their numbers were not vast, but they were sufficient to threaten an entire planet. As the Bloodletters claimed eighty-eight thousand, eight hundred and eighty-eight heads for the Blood God, brass-clad Knights riding Bloodcrushers charged out behind them. The heavily armored Bloodcrushers plowed into those attempting to resist like living tanks. The mortal armies had long since collapsed; now, it was the Genestealers and their makeshift armored divisions holding the line.
With barricades and standardized weaponry, the Genestealer forces operated much like a regular Astra Militarum regiment, yet they remained outmatched by the daemonic host of Khorne.
Yuki watched the slaughter unfolding on the ground from above. He drifted through the air, searching for the Warp anchor point sustaining the rift.
"There it is."
He detached himself from the Harridan that had carried him and leapt from the heights.
Bloodletters clinging to the sides of high-rises lunged at Yuki, hissing as they tried to tear him apart. Yuki did not grant them mercy. During his rapid descent, he swung his bone blades, hacking them into fragments and banishing them back to the Warp. These enemies were no cause for concern.
Over the years, Yuki had never neglected to strengthen his body and refine his combat skills; his mastery of psychic energy had also grown more sophisticated. According to Yuno's judgment, anyone capable of fighting Yuki now would have to be a legendary figure within the galaxy.
Yuki pressed forward, swiftly cutting down the enemies blocking his path. However, as he advanced, he noticed a new anomaly. There seemed to be other daemons present. Khorne was not stupid, but he disliked thinking; how could he have exerted such effort to breach the Shadow in the Warp on his own?
As he drew closer, he could clearly feel the gaze of the Warp fixed upon him. If Yuno hadn't linked him to the Hive Mind before he left—essentially turning him into a moving pocket of the Shadow—the Warp would have already begun a forced intrusion of his mind.
Boom!
Without warning, a massive gout of Warp-fire erupted. The flame, dozens of meters long, engulfed Yuki, its baleful energy attempting to burn and corrode his body. But it wasn't over. Just as Yuki regained his footing, a flash of blue flickered. An Astartes clad in blue power armor delivered a front kick, sending Yuki flying back.
Dammit. That combo... that's the Thousand Sons.
It appeared Tzeentch had joined Khorne in making trouble. In Yuki's initial predictions, he expected Slaanesh to be the first to show up. After all, how could the Dark Prince ignore a romance as bizarre as dating the Great Devourer? He hadn't expected Khorne to be the second to follow the scent; he thought Tzeentch would have been more curious about the situation.
Fine. Of the four Chaos Gods, three had now appeared. He wondered when Grandfather Nurgle would come to play.
Yuki observed his surroundings. These should be Rubric Marines. Killing them was pointless; he needed to find the Thousand Sons sorcerer. He sensed the flow of Warp energy, searching for the nexus...
"Found you."
Yuki launched himself like an arrow toward the sorcerer hidden among the daemons.
The Thousand Sons, the once-proud scions of Magnus, were few in number but formidable in power, each a master of the arcane. Following the Burning of Prospero and the Rubric of Ahriman, the remaining sorcerers were the elite of the elite.
"Halt."
Grotesque runes distorted space. Yuki's piercing charge was stopped dead, and sharp psychic blades cut into his skin. To freeze time out of thin air—this sorcerer's power was not to be underestimated.
But Yuki was no longer the weakling he had once been.
"Come on!"
Chitinous plating grew, covering his body. A brain-like organ sprouted from his back, through which psychic energy condensed from the Hive Mind flowed.
Time began to flow again. The sorcerer thrust his staff into the ground, and blue flames mingled with shifting lines of energy to form a domain. Any daemons that dared approach this field were instantly annihilated.
Yuki stepped forward, slicing through the domain. The flaming threads were severed. The sorcerer stared at Yuki, his staff steady. He chanted a blasphemous incantation, and waves of psychic shockwaves washed over Yuki's body like an incoming tide.
"Is this all a son of Magnus can do?"
Yuki roared. A green psychic shield characteristic of the Tyranids expanded around him. He charged. Several Rubric Marines blocked his path, but he smashed through them, clouds of dust billowing from their shattered armor.
"Look, son of Magnus! Your brothers have become one with the dust of your home."
"Silence."
Two simple words, but the psychic eruption they carried shattered Yuki's eardrums. A wave of vertigo hit him. What is this? He could feel that the moment the sorcerer spoke, the power of the psychic spell had been exponentially amplified.
Yuki knew that in this universe, such an effect could only be achieved by the legendary Enuncia. But weren't those creations, born of a writer's whim, long ago destroyed by the Emperor and the first Warmaster? Enuncia was a power that could threaten every force in the Warp.
"Son of Magnus, name yourself. How did you learn Enuncia?"
"Deklaro of the Silencing."
Every word Deklaro spoke channeled massive amounts of Warp energy. Yuki, recovering from his shock, mocked his own stupidity. This couldn't be Enuncia. If it were, he would already be dead. Likely, the sorcerer had bound his voice to Warp energy. Looking closely, blood was seeping from the neck of the sorcerer's armor.
Spikes sprouted from Yuki's back. He had wasted too much time here; it was time to move on.
Deklaro did not speak again. He pulled his staff from the ground and brandished it high. The glowing dust on the ground drifted back into the empty suits of armor, reforming the Rubric Marines. Armed with Inferno bolters and soulreaper cannons, led by a sorcerer with terrifying psychic power, this was not a force to be taken lightly.
"What a nuisance."
Yuki set down the coffin he had been carrying. The new organs on his back rapidly expanded in size.
"Again!"
Unburdened, Yuki's speed reached unprecedented levels. Once more, fueled by the collective will of the Swarm, a blood-soaked Yuki extended all his dorsal spikes. The armor of the Rubric Marines was instantly impaled.
Dragging these marines with him, Yuki reached Deklaro. The sorcerer had been waiting for this exact moment.
"Begone!"
The most horrific psychic impact smashed Yuki's skull to fragments. But he did not stop. This body was crafted by the Great Devourer herself. At this stage, as long as a single cell survived, he would not die.
Blood leaked from Deklaro's eyes beneath his helmet. He had been naive. How could Tzeentch grant him power so easily? Responding to Tzeentch's call had been a grave mistake. He had to finish this strange humanoid Tyranid before it regenerated!
He prepared to speak. He had sacrificed his voice to Tzeentch; every time he spoke, he released a devastating psychic spell, but it inflicted massive damage on his own body.
Suddenly, he saw it.
Psychic foresight showed him the future—part of Tzeentch's game. He saw himself preparing to speak to slay the regenerating enemy. But behind him, a figure had already appeared. That figure was tensing his entire body, his palm formed into a blade, about to pierce Deklaro's chest. It was Yuki!
Is this the future? I fail to kill this monster?
In that moment, Deklaro returned to reality. A piercing agony forced him to look down at his chest.
It was not the future. It was now.