The air around Gerhard grew cold, seeming to freeze the soul and suck it in. The ambient Warp energies of the Maelstrom that saturated the fortress instantly ceased to exist in his presence. Daemonic whispers were silenced, sorcerous flames guttered out. Even the Harlequins, accustomed to the strangeness of the galaxy, turned deeply depressed and kept an awkward berth from the walking psychic void.
Gerhard reminded them of the Solitairs, who weren't the same as human blanks, but felt similar, as they didn't own their souls. But Gerhard was a different beast altogether. And while his presence was anathema to the denizens of the Warp, and was akin to a black hole, it was like a reverse beacon.
The only one who was keeping his composure, thanks to the Terminator suit Gerhard had created, was Lencillus. He had locked in as he realised the danger they were in at the moment.
The Blackstone Fortress was tearing itself apart from all sides, its ancient corridors transformed into a messy, chaotic four-way meat grinder.
The invading Khornate hordes, which consisted of frothing Khorne Berzerkers and red-scaled Bloodletters, were roaring and hacking a brutal, bloody path through the defending Red Corsairs.
To counter the bloodlusted, or rather bloodcrazed, invaders, the fortress had been flooded by Kairos Fateweaver's own sorcerous menagerie. Giggling Pink and angry Blue Horrors rushed over heavy machinery and barricades, while Flamers of Tzeentch hurled indiscriminate blasts of Warp-fire into the melee and attempted to destroy their enemies of an opposing Chaos side.
Above the bloody infantry clash, Tzeentchian Sorcerers and Screamers screeched, lashing out with staves of chaos magic that turned the battlefield into a nightmare of mutating energy.
The Harlequins shot forward in their lethal dance, moving through the corridors with incredible speed.
The first time the Red Corsairs realised that yet another enemy had arrived was when a whirlwind attack from behind struck. Perfectly spread on the battlefield and lethal, the Eldar struck with the murderous grace they were feared for.
Rapier blades pierced through Chaos Astartes' chest plates in sprays of blood. Monofilament needles slithered through the chinks in their victims' corrupted power armour, liquefying organs in milliseconds. Point-blank hails of shuriken and fusion energies punched through Red Corsairs and sent traitor corpses to the floor in mists of blood.
Through this shifting madness, Lencillus moved so fast that it looked like a golden flash.
He wore the Allarus Pattern Terminator Armour which Gerhard had created and improved for him, a masterwork of auramite that provided its wearer with an exceptional range of movement, unencumbered and even enhanced speed, augmented strength, and the base survivability to walk unharmed through the blast of a macro-cannon shell.
Thanks to the Allarus being of legendary grade, it granted Lencillus a whopping +80 STR, +100 VIT and +30 DEX. And those were just the simple stats without the resistances against Warp corruption and Gerhard's blank nature.
To the Daemons, he was part of the apocalypse.
His Guardian Spear flashed through the air at impossible speeds, cutting apart both Tzeentchian and Khornish daemons in seconds. His Adrathic Destructor disintegrated the more powerful of them and those who were farther away.
He was doing an incredible job at supporting Gerhard.
And Gerhard?
A Tzeentchian Sorcerer, a Herald of Tzeentch, flanked by waves of Blue Horrors and a powerful Exalted Flamer, felt his cursed presence, or rather lack thereof, immediately. For a sorcerer like him and one who followed Tzeentch, he was just about the worst thing there was.
"CURSE YOU, ABOMINATION!!" he roared.
He lifted his staff as he floated in the air, shouting an incantation and shot forth massive warp flames towards Gerhard. The flames engulfed the Doom Slayer in Warp-fire and...
Nothing happened.
Gerhard's [Blank] aura poofed the magic out of existence before it could even affect him.
Gerhard turned his head towards him.
The sorcerer stared at his dead staff in dumbfounded existential horror for a fraction of a second. The giggling horrors around suddenly went silent, their connection to the Warp violently severed.
'Rip and Tear'
Gerhard dismantled the horde of demons and Chaos Marines with unstoppable momentum and brutality. He closed the distance with terrifying speed, slamming into the Herald of Tzeentch like a freight train.
"WAA--!"
He grabbed the traitor by the horns of his helmet, pulled his head down, and drove a heavily armoured knee upward.
BAAMM!!
The ceramite helmet shattered like glass, taking the traitor's skull with it in an explosion of gore and corrupted blood.
[Herald of Tzeentch defeated]
[+200,000 EXP]
To the Herald's right, the Exalted Flamer reared back, trying to spew a massive magical inferno from its tubular, toothy maw. Gerhard pivoted, grabbed the daemon by its upper and lower mandibles, and ripped its entire torso open like a cheap bag of chips, exposing its fleshy and hot core to the suffocating void of his blank aura.
It died instantly.
[Exalted Flamer defeated]
[+380,000 EXP]
A massive Khorne Berzerker, lost to the Butcher's Nails, fired up by the gore and blood, let out a roaring, blood-crazed hymn. He lunged from the peripheral fighting and swung his chainaxe at Gerhard's neck.
Contrary to what anyone else would have done, Gerhard didn't even dodge or block with his weapon. He caught the Berzerker's wrist in his left hand, the metal of his suit groaning but holding firm.
With a twist, he snapped the traitor's arm backwards, tearing the chainaxe from his grip. In the same fluid motion, Gerhard grabbed and buried the revving weapon directly into the Berzerker's chest, ripping upward through the breastplate, the twin hearts, and out through the collarbone.
[Khorne Berzerker defeated]
[+260,000 EXP]
It was a symphony of ultraviolence, which would have worked for the Khorne Berserkers and Bloodletters, but was a stark contrast to the magical warfare from the followers of Tzeentch. And yet, he was hated and targeted by both groups.
He moved from target to target, never breaking stride, entirely immune to the Warp-fuckery of the battlefield.
When hundreds of Pink Horrors lunged at him, Gerhard crushed their skulls with a backhand. Normally, the daemon would have magically split into two Blue Horrors upon death, but within Gerhard's [Blank] skill active, the creature simply ceased to exist, evaporating as sludge.
[Pink Horror defeated]
[+120,000 EXP]
[Pink Horror defeated]
[+120,000 EXP]
[Pink Horror defeated]
[+120,000 EXP]
[Pink Horror defeated]
[+120,000 EXP]
...
A Red Corsair levelled a plasma gun at his chest. Gerhard took out his chainsaw and cut straight through the weapon, shattering the glowing coils, before driving his chainsaw directly through the Chaos Space Marine's visor, cutting his head in half.
[Chaos Space Marine defeated]
[+230,000 EXP]
A surviving Khornate Bloodletter tried to manifest from the pooling blood on the floor. Gerhard's void forced it to materialise as a weakened, physical husk. Gerhard grabbed it by the upper and lower jaws and ripped its head entirely in half.
[Bloodletter defeated]
[+130,000 EXP]
Gerhard used his wrist-mounted Doomblade and cut through several Pink Horrors as they rushed at him. His presence was like the worst poison to them. An existential dread materialised when he was around, and the stronger he became, the more pronounced this effect became.
To such sensitive amboniatioins like demons and Chaos Sorcerers, he was worse than the Anathema himself, the Emperor of Mankind. Too bad for them that he was not looking to stop growing stronger any time soon.
Gerhard suddenly had his shotgun in his left hand, which he pointed at a Chaos Terminator and reached for one of the Boneswords with his right.
BOOOOMM--!!
The shells ripped apart half of the Terminator's body. He moved through the corridor at incredible speeds for his weight and slashed the Terminator apart with two quick slashes of his Bonesword.
[Chaos Terminator defeated]
[+500,000 EXP]
The Energy Drain worked automatically when Gerhard used the Bonesword, adding HP if he needed it or converting to MP otherwise.
Gerhard dodged beneath a large volley of bolter fire. Having a deja vu, he grabbed the lifeless Terminator and used him as cover to move forward and attack the next one.
He swung the Bonesword through the air, colliding with a massive power axe and deflecting it aside just as the Chaos Marine's energy was absorbed.
He couldn't attack further, as more attacks came from his side. He threw the Terminator's corpse to the side, blocking dozens of bolter shells, which exploded and sent him flying in the opposite direction.
Using this, Gerhard crashed into the group of Chaos Marines and turned around his own axis, swinging the Bonesword through the air and splitting heads and bodies as he went by.
The Gamer system showed the death and EXP he gained as he went on.
With a roar, the Bonesword was plunged deep into a Terminator's torso, disembowelling the traitor and sending guts and blood splattering everywhere, creating a gruesome scene.
Gerhard aimed his shotgun to the left, where new enemies had emerged, and pulled the trigger several times, watching as the massive Terminators exploded from within.
He left the corridor painted in mixed blood and gore, a path of mangled, glory-killed corpses leading directly to the outer blast doors of the detention block.
In another location, one of the traitors bellowed in pain as a Harlequin sank her rapier straight into his knee joint. Using her momentum, she cartwheeled around his massive frame and kicked his heavy bolter right out of his grip.
She finished the combo with a fluid backflip, her heel catching the Chaos Marine perfectly under the chin and sending him crashing flat onto his back.
As the Harlequin leapt away into the shadows, the dazed Red Corsair scrambled for his sidearm. But before he could reach it, he stopped dead.
A robed figure in old, ornate power armour was standing over him. The traitor had no idea who Cypher was; the Fallen Angel was one of the galaxy's most closely guarded secrets and was hunted by the Dark Angels Chapter. But the traitor absolutely understood the threat of the massive pistol currently hovering inches from his face.
Cypher didn't say a word. He just stared down from the shadows of his cowl.
The Corsair glared back, his yellow eyes burning with hatred. With a tiny flick of his wrist, Cypher motioned with one of his guns toward the glowing cells, where Guilliman and the loyalists were being kept.
The message was unmistakable.
Letting out a low, bitter growl, the Chaos Marine slowly reached into a pouch on his belt. He pulled out a heavy, rune-carved amulet, the magical key needed to drop the cell barriers.
Cypher offered a small nod of thanks. Then he brought his heavy boot down, crushing the traitor's skull. The Red Corsair spasmed once before going completely still.
Holstering his pistol, the Fallen Angel snatched the magic key from the dead man's hand. As he straightened up, he found himself staring directly into the hypnotic, shifting mask of Sylandri Veilwalker.
The Eldar Shadowseer was the true mastermind behind this entire operation. She was the one who had guided Guilliman when he was lost in the Warp, recruited Cypher for this exact mission, convinced Belisarius Cawl to abandon his forge on Mars, and collected Gerhard, knowing they needed him for what was to come.
Veilwalker gave Cypher a sarcastic, theatrical bow before pointing her staff toward the massive cell in the distance. Cypher gave a curt nod, turned on his heel, and stepped toward it to finish the job.
Through the dancing Chaos flames, Guilliman watched the robed figure approach. The Primarch didn't recognise the cowled Space Marine, but of course he immediately recognised the colours of his Legion.
"You are Roboute Guilliman," said Cypher as he stopped outside the Primarch's cell.
"And you are one of the Lion's sons," replied Guilliman. "You keep questionable company, Dark Angel. Who are you, and why are you here?"
"I can free you," the hooded figure replied, completely ignoring the Primarch's questions.
Realising he wasn't going to get a straight answer, proving that he truly was a son of the Lion, Guilliman frowned.
"Can," he rumbled. "Not will. What do you want in return?"
"You will take me to Terra," replied Cypher. "To the Throne."
The sorcerous flames crackled. The distant, muffled sounds of the fortress tearing itself apart and pained screams of utter terror echoed in the background as Guilliman's silence stretched out. Even bound in crystal chains, the Primarch radiated immense power, his heavy glare thunderous. But the Dark Angel didn't flinch, standing as still as a granite statue.
Guilliman strained against his magical bonds one last time. They didn't budge.
"It seems that my choices are to rot here, or accede to your demand," said the Primarch slowly. "The former would be to fail in my duty, so I suppose it will have to be the latter..."
One corner of the stranger's mouth twitched up into a small, bitter smile.
"Or that's what I would say, if I didn't know there was a third option," Guilliman said.
"What--?"
BOOOOM--!!
The wall exploded as the mangled and bloody remains of a Khorne Berserker crashed through it. Heavy footsteps followed, and Cypher, using his long, long years of experience, immediately aimed his weapons at the opening.
Veilwalker, on the other hand, grinned beneath her mask, feeling very well who was coming.
"Oi! Are you going to sit there all day, Roboute?"
Gerhard stepped through the hole in the wall.
"It's good to see you, Gerhard. I see you've been busy," Guilliman allowed himself a very uncharacteristic jab.
Gerhard looked at Cypher and the key in his hand and then slashed the security mechanisms on the wall with the Bonesword, finally freeing the Primarch and the rest of the loyalists.
"Let's go."