Sarah was suspended in mid-air above the smoking ruins that had once been the Imperial base. Her exposed brain-organ pulsated with a sluggish, heavy rhythm, struggling to knit back together the psychic energy she had depleted during the devastating Psychic Scream.
Suddenly, a rare spark of genuine fear flickered in her cold, multifaceted eyes. Her body tensed instinctively, shifting into a defensive posture. Since her latest evolution, her perception of danger had expanded into the metaphysical; she could sense threats before they materialized in the physical realm.
Just now, in her Warp-vision, she had felt a terrifying, vast gaze sweep across the hatchery. It was not the echo of her own psychic storm, nor was it an aura possessed by any mortal being. It was an existence as cold and boundless as the galactic void—a presence so immense it inspired a primal, soul-deep despair. It was like a black sun hanging in the Immaterium.
A mere glance from that "sun" had triggered a death-warning in her genetic instincts. Though the gaze vanished as quickly as it had appeared, something impossible remained in its wake.
The bald Astartes, who should have been a broken corpse, began to rise.
Sarah's analytical mind rapidly scanned Cassius's physiology. Both of his hearts were failing; his three lungs were largely necrotic from acid and psychic ablation. He had lost nearly seventy percent of his blood. The power-servos of his Iron Knight Terminator plate were fused and silent, meaning he was supporting the massive weight of the tactical dreadnought armor through sheer, impossible muscular force.
By every biological metric, he was a dead man. Yet, he stood.
The ruined armor swayed as he straightened his back. A pale, golden light began to leak from the cracks in his plate, coalescing into a shimmering film around him. The aura was majestic, radiating a vengeful fury that felt older and purer than the warrior himself. He had returned from the threshold of the afterlife, fueled by the absolute conviction of the Emperor's most faithful.
Sarah could not comprehend this. To her, life was a series of chemical reactions and biological functions. When the threshold of damage was crossed, the machine stopped. Why was this human still functioning? Why did this new energy suppress her own psychic fluctuations?
She didn't have time to solve the riddle. If he was standing, she would simply kill him again. Raynor's instructions were absolute: leave no survivors, especially the "Angels."
Sarah let out a piercing shriek, her brain-organ throbbing with a violent purple hue. She condensed her remaining psychic energy into a singular, focused lance. With a crack that tore the air apart, the beam blasted toward Cassius. It was a strike powerful enough to bore through a mountain.
But as the beam approached, the shattered Iron Halo behind Cassius's head suddenly ignited. It didn't just glow; it burned like a miniature star. The dark purple beam did not obliterate him. Instead, it hit an invisible barrier and hissed, evaporating like snow thrown into a furnace.
Cassius didn't flinch. His sightless, glowing eyes remained fixed on Sarah. He began to walk.
Each step was heavy and deliberate, crushing the charred fungal carpet and leaving deep, glowing footprints in the muck. The golden light trailed behind him like an afterimage of a ghost. Sarah's unease turned into panic. She could feel his momentum—his "weight" in the Warp—increasing with every stride.
Desperate, she leveled the bio-plasma cannon on her left forelimb. An ominous green light flared.
BOOM!
A scorching bolt of plasma, capable of melting a tank's glacis plate, roared toward Cassius. But the Astartes' movement was... wrong. It defied the physics of his massive suit. The golden light surged, and his figure shifted several meters in a blur that looked like short-range teleportation. The plasma bolt whistled past his shoulder, detonating harmlessly against the wall behind him.
A second later, Cassius was beneath her.
Sarah frantically deployed her psychic shroud, but Cassius walked through the purple field as if it were a common fog. Sarah felt a searing heat as he drew near, her very cells screaming at the proximity of that golden light. She lashed out with her tearing claws, intending to shred him.
Cassius was faster. His fist, wreathed in golden flames, slammed into Sarah's chest.
The blow was not merely physical. It carried the burning weight of the Emperor's Judgement. The golden fire instantly spread across Sarah's body, igniting her reactive armor and the flesh beneath. Her shell, which had withstood melta-fire, cracked and blackened like charred paper.
She let out a howl of pure, unadulterated agony—pain that transcended the physical and scorched her very consciousness. Her massive body was sent tumbling backward, crashing into the sporangia-covered walls.
Before she could struggle to her feet, Cassius was there again. Another blow landed in her midsection. The golden flames invaded her internal organs, incinerating her genetic tissue from the inside out. Sarah was launched through a row of support pillars, kicking up a cloud of toxic dust as she skidded across the floor.
As she tried to steady herself, Cassius appeared behind her. He gripped his Thunder Hammer—damaged and sparking—with both gauntlets. Using the weapon like a heavy mace, he swung with the force of a falling star, hitting Sarah's flank.
With a sickening CRACK, Sarah was sent flying across the hatchery like a broken toy. She slammed into a distant metal support structure, which buckled and collapsed, burying her under tons of twisted steel and debris.
Sarah shrieked in terror. Her body was a ruin; her skull-plates were fractured, and her brain-organ was clouded with psychic static. The golden flames clung to her like leeches, relentlessly eroding her nervous system. Despair, a concept she had never truly understood, began to drown her mind.
She struggled to crawl from the wreckage, her broken form trembling. Her murky eyes fixed on Cassius as he strode toward her, his silhouette framed by a halo of holy fire. For the first time in her existence, she was the prey.