VROOM, VROOM, VROOM!
The roaring chainswords, their teeth spinning at thousands of revolutions per minute, were wielded with mechanical precision by the Scyllax-class Guardian-automata. The weapons slashed hard and repeatedly at the five-meter-high sheep-headed beasts, attacking without hesitation or fear.
Every single strike they delivered landed with tremendous accuracy against the massive bodies of the demon puppets. The targeting was perfect, the execution flawless, exactly as their programming demanded.
The chainswords' adamantine teeth forcefully embedded themselves into the opponents' bodies, chewing through whatever they contacted. Each bite tore off long strips of black flesh that came away in ragged chunks, some pieces still steaming as they fell.
However, despite the horrific damage being inflicted, the two giant sheep-headed beasts seemed completely unaware of any harm being done to them. They showed no pain response, no defensive reactions, no attempt to protect damaged areas.
The demons simply allowed the besieging Breacher guards to continue using the chainswords gripped in their mechanical tentacles to tear at the black flesh covering their huge frames. The constructs didn't even bother to stop the attacks.
They operated just like tireless machines themselves, utterly mechanical in their movements. They repeatedly waved their huge black claws with devastating force, smashing aside or completely blasting away the surrounding Scyllax-class Guardian-automata one after another.
Each swipe of those talons sent multi-ton combat servitors flying through the air, armor crumpled, systems sparking. The demons possessed terrible strength that made them incredibly dangerous in close quarters.
At the same time, the lasguns mounted on reconnaissance drones hovering above the melee also opened fire. They sprayed out multiple streaks of hot red laser beams in coordinated volleys, concentrating fire on high-value targets.
The extremely precise shots, guided by advanced targeting algorithms, penetrated the heads and massive bodies of the sheep-headed beasts one after another. Each beam carved through demon flesh, leaving smoking holes that should have been fatal.
At this moment, observing the accumulated damage, the two giant sheep-headed beasts finally began to slow down noticeably. They appeared to be on the verge of total collapse, their movements becoming sluggish as critical damage mounted.
Those sections of black flesh that had been completely melted by sustained laser fire or torn off and scattered by chainsword teeth lay strewn across the floor.
But then something impossible happened.
The severed chunks gradually transformed, their consistency changing. They turned into puddles of thick, dark, profoundly strange liquid that pooled and flowed with unnatural purpose.
The corrupted substance quickly began regrouping, flowing like mercury across the floor. It moved toward the huge demonic skeletons that were on the verge of being broken down completely, as though magnetized.
The liquid flesh crawled back up skeletal frames, rebuilding, regenerating, reforming into solid tissue.
In the blink of an eye, taking only seconds to complete the transformation, the two giant sheep-headed beasts that had fully recovered their mass and structural integrity were once again waving their black claws aggressively.
They stood completely restored, firmly planted in the circle formed by surrounding Scyllax-class Guardian-automata and automatic reconnaissance drones. It was as though the last several minutes of sustained combat had never occurred.
What proved even more terrifying, more tactically problematic, was that the black flesh covering the huge bodies of the sheep-headed beasts had fundamentally changed its properties.
The tissue seemed no longer capable of being torn and embedded by the sharp, spinning saw teeth of the chainswords. The weapons that had been effective moments before now simply bounced off or skidded across the surface without penetrating.
Even the repeated bombardment of searing lasers, which had previously carved deep wounds, now only managed to make the black flesh slightly red and heated. The beams could no longer penetrate or melt the tissue at all.
The demons had adapted. They'd developed immunity to both physical and energy attacks within minutes of exposure.
This was a nightmare scenario, an enemy that learned and evolved in real-time.
At this precise moment, accompanied by a loud roar as the ground shook beneath tremendous weight and floor debris scattered in all directions, something changed.
Nolan, driving his tall Terminator armor with practiced control, crashed back down onto the first floor. The impact of his landing created a small crater in the already damaged flooring.
Through his enhanced targeting eyepiece, which provided multiple spectrum analysis and threat assessment, he stared at the tactical situation developing before him.
He observed the combat servitors completely surrounding the position, and more critically, studied the sheep-headed beasts that had just demonstrated they now possessed dual immunity to both physical and energy-based attack methods.
His tactical mind processed the problem, running through options and assessing probabilities.
"The more varied our means of attack and the longer we allow this engagement to continue, the more disadvantageous the situation becomes for us tactically..." Nolan muttered to himself, his voice filtered through the helmet's vox-system. "They're adapting. We need to end this before they become completely invulnerable."
Click, click, click!
A slight sound of mechanical joints rotating and servos engaging emerged from the Terminator armor's power pack.
One of the heavy servo-mechanical arms located behind the power backpack responded instantly to Nolan's neural interface control. The limb swung around smoothly, bringing its weapon to bear on target.
The Gauss blaster mounted at the end of the servo-arm activated with a distinctive sound, power building in exotic systems stolen from Necron technology.
A series of extremely terrifying green beams of light erupted from the depths of the weapon's muzzle like luminous arrows. The atomizing rays crossed the intervening distance almost instantaneously.
After flying through the air trailing particles of disintegrated atmosphere, the beams struck directly into the massive bodies of the sheep-headed beasts with unerring accuracy.
At this moment, the black flesh of the sheep-headed beasts that had proven highly resistant to chainswords and completely immune to standard lasguns faced something entirely different.
The demonic tissue, which had adapted so effectively to conventional weaponry, was almost instantly and easily penetrated by the green beams of atomizing energy. The Gauss blaster didn't cut or burn. It simply unmade matter at the molecular level.
The huge demon bodies didn't even have time to begin adapting to this fundamentally new attack method, couldn't develop countermeasures against physics-breaking technology.
Their very atoms began escaping into the air, unraveling from solid matter into dissociated particles. Green motes of light drifted upward like ghostly fireflies as the demons literally ceased to exist.
Swish, swish, swish!
Seeing that the Gauss blaster had achieved absolutely amazing battlefield results where conventional weapons had failed completely, Nolan made his tactical decision.
He immediately controlled the servo-robotic arm through his neural link and pulled the weapon's trigger mechanism all the way to maximum output. He unleashed the full devastating potential of Necron technology.
The bright green beams of atomizing light completely enveloped the huge bodies of the two giant sheep-headed beasts like a goddess scattering luminous flowers across the battlefield. The concentrated fire was overwhelming, inescapable.
There was no defense. No adaptation possible. No regeneration that could counter fundamental atomic dissolution.
After just a few brief moments of sustained fire, the tactical situation had completely reversed.
The two giant sheep-headed beasts collapsed heavily to the ground in their death throes. All that remained of their previously five-meter-high bodies were four huge legs and feet shaped like sheep's hooves, the extremities having somehow resisted dissolution slightly longer than the rest.
Everything else, all the rest of their body parts and mass, had been transformed into green atoms that kept escaping upward. The particles completely dissipated into the surrounding air, spreading and diffusing until nothing recognizable remained.
Shortly thereafter, even the remaining huge legs and feet received attention. The limbs were systematically torn into countless small fragments by the chainswords wielded by the victorious Breacher guards, the servitors taking satisfaction in destroying every trace.
The pieces were scattered evenly across the surrounding floor, ensuring no possibility of regeneration.
Click, click, click!
Nolan, moving within his Terminator armor with the satisfaction of solved tactical problem, retracted the servo-robotic arm that controlled the Gauss blaster. The weapon powered down, its deadly work concluded.
He slightly shook his huge armored palm, the one wearing the dark green power fist, and prepared to step forward to conduct a detailed inspection of the remains.
But the anxious voice of Wong calling from above reached his audio receptors, cutting through his focus on immediate tactical concerns.
"Mr. Nolan! Those sheep-headed monsters you just destroyed are black magic summons belonging to the white-haired old man!" Wong's voice carried urgency bordering on panic. "They're bound constructs, which means their master must still be here!"
Wong continued his warning rapidly.
"If he didn't choose to escape immediately after his servants were destroyed, then the enemy's ultimate goal must be reaching the magical node hidden deep in the underground space beneath the Sanctum! That's the only thing here worth the risk!"
"Once someone with sufficient knowledge destroys the node at that location, there will be catastrophic flaws and dangerous loopholes torn in the magical defense system that currently covers the entire Earth! The barriers will weaken everywhere!"
Hearing this series of urgent words tumbling from Wong's mouth, Nolan, who stood encased in his diamond-shaped helmet, quickly transmitted new orders through his command network.
He directed the Scyllax-class Guardian-automata and automatic reconnaissance drones of the Intelligent Control Corps to begin exploring forward, attempting to locate the exact position where the giant sheep-headed beasts had first appeared.
That would mark the path deeper into the Sanctum.
At the same time, he also looked upward toward Wong, who was running down the stairs with surprising speed for someone recently recovered from near-fatal injuries. The sorcerer's urgency overrode concerns about his physical state.
Behind Wong came David, the Man of Iron carefully holding the unconscious Strange between his metal arms. The surgeon's condition remained critical but stable.
Nolan gestured for Wong to approach and show him the way to the magical node's location beneath the Supreme Sanctum. Time was critical, and he needed a guide through the mystical defenses.
At the same time, he also specifically instructed David through private channel to send the injured surgeon back to the underground base immediately for proper medical treatment.
"And David, remember to bring back the war scythe and the C'tan phase sword when you return," Nolan added, his tone carrying slight embarrassment. "I forgot to equip them because of time constraints during initial deployment. I'll need them for what's coming."
The next moment, David, acknowledging the orders with a flash of blue light, entered the circular breach point in the floor. The Man of Iron descended carefully while still carrying Strange protectively in his arms.
Nolan, moving within his Terminator armor, positioned himself directly in front of Wong. The sorcerer looked small next to the massive plate, but his knowledge made him invaluable.
Soon after, with Wong providing navigation and Nolan providing overwhelming force, the two moved deeper. A large number of Breacher guards and automatic drones surrounded them in protective formation, maintaining tactical security as they advanced.
They quickly entered the underground depths of the Supreme Sanctum, descending through passages that grew progressively more ancient and mystically significant.
Eventually they emerged into a long corridor where the surrounding space seemed to be constantly changing and turning, reality itself unstable. The architecture was impossible, defensive, designed to confuse and trap intruders.
The pale, emotionally strained Wong immediately saw something that made his breath catch. His gaze fell upon the miserable remains of guardian sorcerer Daniel, the corpse lying where it had fallen in final defense.
Pain flashed across Wong's features, grief threatening to overwhelm tactical necessity. His friend, his colleague, dead and discarded.
But he forced himself to suppress the sorrow, knowing he had no time to properly honor the fallen or dispel his emotional turmoil. The mission demanded focus.
He could only grit his teeth against the grief and begin using complex hand gestures, movements that were simultaneously mathematical and mystical. He gradually condensed spell runes that emitted soft orange light, the symbols hanging in the air around him.
And with the careful manifestation of more and more spell runes, each one precisely formed and positioned, the space surrounding them that had been constantly changing seemed to respond. The defensive mechanisms recognized a proper dispelling technique.
The transformations became more active rather than less, reality rippling more violently. Even the positions of the walls and ceiling began rotating and twisting repeatedly, the corridor trying to resist being pinned down.
Wong maintained concentration despite the disorienting visual chaos, his hands moving in the precise patterns required. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the effort and from his still-weakened condition.
He continued casting with absolute focus until, after a few dozen tense seconds of sustained effort, a faint underground passage finally reappeared before them. The defensive illusions parted reluctantly.
At this moment, Wong, with a tremendous amount of sweat now drenching his forehead and staining his robes, finally breathed a deep sigh of relief. The spell work had been exhausting, pushing him to his limits.
He smiled bitterly as he turned to address Nolan, his expression mixing accomplishment with resignation.
"These powerful protective spells and defensive enchantments were originally carefully designed and implemented to protect the magical node and defend against enemy intrusion," Wong explained, his voice carrying disappointment. "But now it seems they have not played much of a meaningful role at all. The barriers failed completely. Maybe this Great Shadow Demon worshipper who calls himself Faust is far more powerful than any of us imagined or prepared for..."
"Faust?" Nolan's response came sharply, his attention suddenly focusing with laser intensity. "Is he an elderly man wearing a monocle in front of one eye and dressed in an immaculate white suit?"
Nolan, still wearing his diamond-shaped helmet that concealed his reactions, suddenly turned his enhanced sight downward. He looked directly at Wong standing beside him and asked with deceptive softness, though tension threaded through the words.
"Hmm?" Wong seemed slightly stunned by the specific description, caught off-guard by Nolan's apparent knowledge. "Mr. Nolan, have you heard of him before Or have you actually met this man in person?"
Curiosity and concern mixed in his tone as he couldn't help but look up toward the position of Nolan's targeting eyepiece, trying to read body language despite the armor.
However, Nolan simply shook his diamond-shaped helmet in a brief negative gesture. He spoke in a carefully controlled low voice.
"We've met once before, actually. It was during..."
At this precise moment, before Nolan could finish completing his explanation or provide context for that previous encounter, his combat systems screamed warning.
The four servo-mechanical arms positioned behind the Terminator armor's power backpack were immediately swiveled around by him with incredible speed. The weapons came to bear on a new target, multiple systems acquiring lock simultaneously.
In an instant, reality became violence.
Green atomizing beams and extremely hot melta blasts were released in a coordinated barrage. The roar of explosive grenade rounds and the sharp crack of red burning lasers joined the devastating symphony.
All four weapons continued pouring out a terrifying firestorm of overlapping fire into a corner position not far away, concentrating overwhelming force on a single point.
The corridor lit up with weapons discharge, heat and light and kinetic energy converging.
Then, cutting through the sound of battle, a voice emerged from that targeted corner. The tone was cultured, amused, completely unruffled by the assault.
"Tsk, tsk. Young people are always so irritable, so quick to violence..."