The potency of chaotic sorcery within the Warp was staggering. Unlike the material universe, governed by the rigid dictates of physics, the Immaterium was a roiling ocean of raw potential. Here, the array of azure runes, a massive, intricate sigil-gate, drank deeply from the omnipresent tides of Chaos, weaving miracles that defied all natural law.
The strain on the Void Sword's shielding grew critical. Passive endurance, however, had never been the way of the Iron Men.
The gargantuan Void Sword surged, its thrusters burning with cold precision as it pivoted to face the oncoming deluge of energy. Behind the titanic bulk of the flagship, the cruisers of the White Scars and Space Wolves took refuge within the projected aegis of the Titan-class shields, unleashing a blind, synchronized volley. Their auspexes were reduced to useless static by the chaotic interference, leaving them entirely reliant on the real-time tactical data-link provided by the flagship.
Even with the Void Sword's superior sensor suites, the chaotic sorcery hampered their precision. Yet, the massive blue sigil-gate was an unmissable beacon of heresy.
Countless lance-beams from the Imperial fleet lanced out like a rain of burning needles, converging on the pulsating array. Macro-cannon broadsides shattered the void with staccato flashes of light. Massive barrages of torpedoes were unleashed, disappearing into the dark, only for a string of detonations to erupt meters away from the target.
The chaotic energy swirling around the gate formed a protective membrane, a freakish barrier that drank the firepower of the Imperial fleet. Unlike the material universe, where a daemon's form could be destabilized, here, a daemon, if not contained within the influence of a Geller Field, was a near-infinite reservoir of power.
Kairos Fateweaver, as a Greater Daemon of Tzeentch, was an entity of immense standing. He was a manifestation of the Changer of Ways' own power, and had he not served a dark god, he possessed the potential to ascend to godhood in his own right. As it stood, he was an arch-sorcerer, wading through the tides of the Aether with a limitless reservoir of power.
As the two-headed daemon-bird raised his staff, the torrent of energy shrieked, growing in volume and intensity.
The Void Sword locked its trajectory. At the prow, a terrifying arc of electricity danced across the massive weapon housing.
Crack!
A beam of utter darkness, thousands of kilometers in diameter, tore through the twisted Warp. It was a sight that defied sanity.
The Void Sword had been retrofitted with a triple-layered energy core. Its standard Doomsday weapon, the Oblivion Cannon, was designated as the Soul Annihilator when fueled by psychic energy. However, after Axion integrated the technology for Ectoplasmic Dissociation, this experimental weapon had been modified yet again, adding a "Nullification Mode."
This pure, hyper-active destructive energy surged from the prow. Upon contact with the chaotic torrent, the daemon's energy began to unravel instantly. The black beam obliterated the blue psychic shielding protecting the gate, then struck the chaotic stream head-on.
The chaotic tide collapsed. The dissociation beam, acting with the momentum of an unstoppable force of nature, tore through the energy storm. With a flash, the oppressive, suffocating pressure of the chaotic stream was swallowed into a void of nothingness. The beam punched through the center of the massive sigil-gate, shattering the entire construct into countless sparks of blue light that dissolved into the void.
A grotesque, otherworldly shriek seemed to echo through the very fabric of reality.
Kairos stared in disbelief at his chaos artifact. His beloved staff had been decimated. The black beam had grazed past his head, and Kairos had instinctively attempted to utilize the power of time to reverse the attack. To his horror, he discovered that the beam itself was saturated with temporal energies, rendering his manipulation utterly futile.
Though the beam hadn't struck his physical form, its periphery had successfully vaporized roughly one-third of his Staff of Tomorrow, an artifact blessed by Tzeentch himself.
Kairos let out a harsh, discordant screech, his four eyes fixed upon the ruined stump of the staff remaining in his grip.
As the space carved out by the black beam became a true energy vacuum, the surrounding Warp currents rushed in with uncontrollable ferocity. The chaotic sorcery, already weakened by the damage to the gate, was instantly torn apart and dispersed.
Kairos's gargantuan, ego-inflated form, now starkly exposed in the Warp, and the traitorous Thousand Sons fleet behind him were suddenly thrust into the sensors of the Imperial forces.
Axion matched the iconography, the Ouroboros ring, on the enemy hulls instantaneously.
"Hostiles identified: Thousand Sons traitors and the daemon known as the Fateweaver."
On the Imperial ships, the White Scars and Space Wolves recognized their ancient foes immediately. The dual-headed avian form of Kairos was unmistakable. Only Jaghatai and the thousands of veterans from the Great Crusade lacked intimate knowledge of this specific entity.
Just as the fleet adjusted its weapon arrays for a killing blow, Kairos whipped up a massive surge of Warp-tide. He vanished into the depths of the Immaterium, taking the Thousand Sons fleet with him.
The moment the target vanished, a second black beam lanced through the space they had occupied seconds before.
Axion observed the retreat with a calculated coldness. The Doomsday weapon's temporal-locking module had been milliseconds away from cementing the fate of the Thousand Sons fleet and the daemon itself. Had the target been visible from the onset, the initial strike would have utterly obliterated the chaos armada and the daemon's physical manifestation.
Axion did not know that the attack had brushed against the threads of the future. As a favorite of the Changer of Ways, Kairos was naturally privy to the visions of his own demise. In that singular instant, he had perceived hundreds of diverging destinies. In the vast majority, he stood against the Iron Men and met a true death, not a mere shattering of his form, but a total dissolution of his essence. In others, he was left as a broken, powerless husk, cast aside by Tzeentch as a failure.
He had not hesitated. He triggered the ritual to veil his presence and fled into the dark heart of the Warp, abandoning the confused Thousand Sons to their fate.
Seeing their patron flee, the Thousand Sons fleet immediately broke formation and scattered. They had to inform Magnus of the Red: the mission was a failure. Beyond the daemon's brief intervention to retrieve Perturabo, they had achieved absolutely nothing.