Warhammer: Empire Reboot

The companion screamed.

My own heartbeat.

Even one's own breathing.

They've all disappeared.

For Slaanesh devotees who crave the ultimate sensory stimulation, the absence of sensation is the most terrifying form of hell.

The absolute silence instantly plunged the noisy marlins into panic.

An old soldier, the son of an emperor, threw down his weapon and frantically scratched at his helmet, trying to stick his fingers into his ears to make even the slightest sound of pain.

He opened his mouth wide and roared.

There was no echo.

Sensory hunger caused his nervous system to completely break down.

The White Tiger Squad held their guns, their faces expressionless as they pulled the triggers.

Precise headshot.

The sensory storm that Slaanesh's fleet attempted to create was transformed by Lawson into a silent massacre using the physical principle of waveform interference.

……

The ruins of the fourth cathedral in the Western Hemisphere.

The Holy War Army of the Legion of Word Bearers has established a massive stronghold here.

The Manifesto is the most orthodox religious madman.

Instead of rushing to attack heavily fortified positions, they were keen on setting up elaborate rituals on the battlefield.

Dozens of dark apostles led tens of thousands of cultists to build a huge altar of white bones in the center of the ruins.

They captured the remaining non-combatants on the battlefield, slit their throats, and let the blood flow along the eight-pointed star pattern.

A massive sacrifice.

The Word Bearers attempt to use these desperate souls to directly summon a bloodthirsty legion of high-ranking demons.

The Dark Apostle Kalash stood atop the highest point of the altar, holding aloft the blood-stained Book of Truth.

Below, 30,000 black-robed believers knelt on the ground, chanting the invocation prayer in unison with his gestures.

Subspace energy converged above the altar.

The air was thick with the stench of sulfur and rotting entrails.

The barriers of reality began to thin, and the faint sound of demonic claws scratching at glass could be heard.

Kalash was very satisfied.

The ceremony went exceptionally smoothly.

The chanting of the believers was perfect.

It's as perfect as a machine repeating itself.

and many more.

machine?

Kalash frowned slightly.

The Dark Apostle's intuition told him that something was amiss.

Chaos is essentially disorder and lack of order.

How could so many believers chant in perfect unison, even down to their breathing frequency?

He lowered his head, his gaze sweeping over the dark mass of believers.

Listen carefully.

Then he noticed that on the left flank of the formation, the chanting of two hundred “devout believers” was filled with dark scriptures, but without any fanatical fluctuations.

Too steady. Too accurate. Too much like someone completing work targets.

Kalash's pupils constricted sharply.

He finally realized that some of the believers in the grand ceremony he had prepared for days were not followers of Chaos at all.

That was Lawson's Lurker Chapter.

They knelt there, pretending to chant scriptures.

"Stop!"

Kalash pointed at the left flank and roared.

"Kill them!"

late.

The infiltrators tore off their black robes, revealing the heavy armor underneath.

At the very center of the Altar of the Word Bearers, the portal of the Stasis Field suddenly burst open.

Emerging from the portal were four living saints, their golden wings unfurled and suspended in mid-air.

They were engulfed in pure imperial golden flames.

The moment the golden light touched the corrupting energy of the subspace, it emitted a loud, explosive sound, like oil being poured on a raging fire.

Vera raised her holy sword, pointing it directly at the altar of bones below.

"In the name of the emperor."

"Purify impurities."

Four thick, golden pillars of fire descended from the sky, pouring into the forming subspace rift.

The demon that had just tried to squeeze out of the rift was burned to nothing the moment it came into contact with the Emperor's Golden Flame, before it even had a chance to scream.

Golden flames spread to the altar of bones.

The seemingly indestructible magic array patterns were instantly melted away.

Kalash held the Book of Truth, attempting to resist the golden flames with dark magic.

The shield cracked like paper.

Golden flames ignited his power armor, burning through his flesh and searing his very soul.

Kalash finally let out a scream.

Vera looked at him.

"Your scripture has many typos."

Kalash was in so much pain that he almost lost his voice.

These words, however, made him even more devastated.

Below, the Lurker assassins had drawn their weapons and were wreaking havoc on the True Cultists and Word Bearers Space Marines who were caught in the chaos.

The summoning ritual meticulously prepared by the Word Bearers turned into a self-destructive farce.

……

Arctic ice sheet.

The Thousand Sons Legion's revenge campaign is unfolding in an extremely cautious manner.

After paying a heavy price of dozens of high-ranking wizards being instantly killed by Lawson's "bar-revealing" attack, the Thousand Sons Legion learned one thing.

Don't show your face.

Do not display a highlight bar.

Do not place your own spiritual coordinates before Lawson.

The Thousand Sons Mystic Master Amon, who led the team this time, did not land on the ground.

He remained aboard the Silver Tower warship, which was docked at the edge of the galaxy.

Thousands of Red Letter warriors landed on the Agrippina Icefield.

These Space Marines, clad in blue-gold power armor, had no flesh inside, only a handful of ashes.

Dust-covered puppet.

Soulless.

No pain sensation.

Completely controlled by a wizard who is far away.

Amon's tactics are clear:

Do not easily expose psionic fluctuations on the battlefield.

Using warp runes to control this soulless puppet army, they advanced step by step into the Agrippina air defense positions.

He wanted to use these fearless, dust-covered bodies to deplete Lawson's ammunition from a safe distance, probing the strength of the defenses.

As long as Lawson cannot find the spellcaster's coordinates, he cannot teleport to behead the target.

On the icy plains, the Thunder Death Squad's explosive bombs shattered several Red Letter Warriors.

The power armor cracked.

There was no blood inside, only a cloud of blue dust.

Soon, the dust gathered again under the spell's pull.

These unkillable puppets brought conventional positional warfare to a stalemate.

Inside the main control room.

Lawson watched the battle unfold on the screen.

"Hiding behind and playing with a remote-controlled toy?"

He tapped on the handrail.