There was a loud bang.
The figure on the Storm Crow gunboat hit the ground like a meteor, stirring up a cloud of dust.
Only then did Ustad see clearly that the person who came was wearing the power armor of their battle group and had a face that was unruly and full of mockery.
Savita.
He remembered the man's name, but Soshyan never told them his true origins.
There are many speculations in the war group, and without exception, everyone believes that he must be a veteran who has lived for a long, long time - it can be guessed from the fact that he knows Thor.
But what Ustad didn't expect was that the support came from one person.
With the appearance of Sevatar, a strange change occurred on the battlefield.
The demons howled one after another, retreated from the parapet, and gathered in the direction from which they came.
"Your master has failed."
Sevatar walked to the burning ruins of Chimera, pulled out the halberd, took off the helmet on it, and put it on his head.
"It's your turn."
The demons let out even more shrill roars, and then exploded one after another in front of everyone's surprised eyes.
But that doesn't mean they were wiped out.
On the contrary, a strong wind rose from the ground and swept the materials spilled by the demons into it, quickly forming a terrifying storm.
This storm was extremely crazy.
All the cultists seemed to have been summoned by something, turning and running towards the expanding storm, crying out the name of the Prince of Darkness.
From the edge of the storm more than 800 meters away, Savita stared at the exploding subspace energy vortex and recognized the source of Valedo's turmoil.
It seemed receptive to his understanding, as if the destruction it was causing was for his benefit and, above all, to mock him.
This storm had appeared in Sevetar's vision.
Now it is here, in a specific place in the physical world, waiting for him.
It is not huge, with a maximum width of no more than a thousand meters, but its range of influence is huge.
It is the destroyer of hope, the trumpet of menace, the promise of madness.
This storm has not yet completely broken through the real world, but the disaster will soon come.
It has a name.
chanter.
"No……"
Ustad looked at the storm and muttered to himself.
"The energy of this thing..."
The vortex was raging outside the Ministry of Justice fortress, covering the entire west.
And it's not static either.
The storm rolled in one direction and another.
The spiral arms of energy collided, sending a huge coronal arc towards the sky.
This chaos captivates the eye and shocks the mind, shaped by nightmares of war and frenzied thoughts.
Although it is not tangible, it can split the air stone.
Although it is colorless, it is so dazzling and dark.
This is the nature of subspace, contradictions and paradoxes.
Sevatar glanced at the storm, looked away, and glanced back again, trying to gauge its power.
"Yago, if we let it develop, it will swallow the whole world."
Anita's statement echoed in his thoughts.
"I'll fix it."
Sevatar responded mentally, then took a step forward.
On the edge of the storm lay scattered corpses and weapons.
And reality has begun to distort.
The laser rifle and the arm were fused together, and the head was elongated like a pale snake. The three Chimeras became one, with messy legs and feet growing out - the front of the leading vehicle became a gaping hole. Its big mouth, and the monster is trying to devour its buttocks.
As the storm expanded, more monsters were born.
Despite its fury, despite the screams and roars of the cultists within it, the vortex itself was silent.
Some of the voices were still essentially human, consumed by the fury of madness and hatred; others were altered, their timbres completely deviant, as if the screaming creatures had teeth in their throats and mouths on their tongues.
Together they create a psychic chorus.
Here, the purpose of fighting is lost, and all that remains is the thirst for destruction.
Alex staggered to the edge of the parapet, his eyes staring at the vortex.
"This...how do we defeat it?"
"Look away, Commissar."
A kind-hearted astral knight gave him a kind reminder, and his appearance here was also a task given by Soshyan before he left.
Do your best to keep Yarick as safe as possible.
"This place is beyond redemption, you can't get stuck in it."
"I see."
Yarick showed a bitter face, and he noticed that the gazes of many soldiers had been deeply sucked into the vortex, including their souls.
There should be very few people here who can leave alive - in fact, he had already had a premonition.
"Soldiers, provide fire cover for Sevatar."
Suddenly, Thor's voice entered the Astral Knight's communication channel.
He was hovering over the fortress in his Stormraven.
Under his orders, the Astral Knights quickly reached an agreement with the Soul Drinkers who stayed behind, and the two sides re-formed a front line, with bolters pointed at Storm.
Then their weapons unleashed a burst of bolter fire into the storm.
If they were shooting at the material storm, the battle would be over in just a few minutes.
Sevatar did hear new screams as bullets fired into the twitching, searing shadows, but this was only the opening attack, the space in the storm was erratic and untrustworthy, and the bullets themselves were easily altered.
The real attack still has to fall on himself.
The Prince of Crows moved forward slowly, gathering strength.
First he must know his enemy, and for this his defenses must be strong.
Less than ninety meters from the edge of the storm, he felt he was ready.
The material world receded at the edge of Sevatar's perception. He reached out to the storm, and the storm reached out to him, eager to share its secrets, eager for him to join its carnival.
He raised his walls of will, preparing himself against the blasts of Chaos.
Sevatar watched, prepared to fight, figured out the enemy, and prepared a counterattack.
There was power and promise in the Warp, and he was harnessing that power, but in this storm he knew there was no promise.
There is nothing here but destruction, and therefore it must be destroyed.
The Space Marines' barrage of fire cleared the way for him, the bolters bringing violent reality into the nightmare, doing enough damage in the storm to open rifts.
Sevatar's consciousness was aware of the crack, and he followed it, grasping at the weak points in the storm, seeking to pry them open further.
The storm swept towards him with secrets and whispers, but he closed his mind to those whispers, choosing only the secrets he needed to respond to.
It also bypassed him and attacked those mortals.
Sevatar was aware at the edge of his attention that the pain of those fragile mortals was like burning blisters, they were struggling but despair was a chink in their armor.
He must defeat the storm before the foolish Astra Militarum become a second threat.
As he went deeper, he began to see the outline of the vortex.
As the whirlwind of fury battered him, he searched for its roots, and each time he found the tortured soul of a human being.
He understood how the storm had formed.
